paranoid me

That I’m a bona fide certifiable paranoid is no secret anymore. But__ how deep it runs, not so many people are aware about. Not even if one is living in and about my immediate neighbourhood like let’s say under one roof. Apparently I can I conceal (without trying and with success) the truth inside a package of seemingly perfect, logical, sensible and sane blunt straight forward reasoning wrapped in a fluffy cloud of neat and clean appearance coupled with nonchalant devil-may-care attitude.

The source of my paranoia is –what-else- people of course! I cannot stand them close to me. Not even their voices heard from over the fence. They disturb my Zen! I cannot even sit in my gazebos or be in the garden if they are in theirs. If I heard them talking, I feel like I’m eavesdropping and it makes me uncomfortable. I want to build a fort-like sort of fence around my property but of course it is not allowed by building society for several of obvious (to them) and not obvious (to me) reasons.

A glimpse of their countenance seen through the gaps between fences, plantings, trellis pergolas or whatever is enough to send me running inside in sheer panic, afraid they might perhaps want to strike a conversation with me about mundane (what else?) things and I absolutely have no desire to do that.

I want to be able to walk in my garden in all quiet and tranquility. So, what I do? I garden when they are asleep!   I erected fences, planted 500 tulips, divided perennials and sown annuals in the middle of the night till early in the morning.

I potted around my plot in the pouring rain (which is quite enjoyable) knowing they will never dare to come out in that sort of weather.

I peep through open doorways and windows before going outside making sure that no one but no one is out there waiting for me. That way, I will not be forced to say hello and thousand other little unimportant things like the weather and God knows what.

I averted my face and pretend I’m preoccupied with something (reading mails, answering phone calls, etc.) whenever I am forced to endure letting myself be seen in public. I run to my car as fast as I could and slam the door before anyone can get a chance to stop me on my track.

I avoid mail man, delivery people, kids selling waffles… anyone who could divert my attention away from isolation and solitude.

The funny thing is: everyone thinks I’m sociable, good conversationalist, life of the party etc. kind of person. My children, in-laws friends and co-workers included. The reason probably is I believe in the saying that if you do anything, anything at all; forced or not you have to give it your best or otherwise you might as well forget about it.

So, whenever I am “forced” to socialize, I don’t do small talk (I show genuine interest because I really am interested. People interest me a great deal, as long as they are not crowding my style) say only things that matters and see to it that a conversation is at least leading to somewhere substantial and not just another polite inquiries about nothing important in particular. People say I am a good listener. And true, I really listen. I find that one can learn a lot by merely listening.  It seems I inspired trust from most  people without being aware how I do it. They often tell me their woes and secrets which is at times quite taxing. 

Do they know how heavy a burden of too many told secrets and to keep it safely tuck away under lock and key? Psychologically, it could be quite trying. Especially if you have some issues of your own. But yeah, people are born selfish and careless when it comes to others. Their problems are the worst kind and their troubles are the only ones that matters. Surprise, surprise.

But enough about that or otherwise we are in for a very long blog and I hear/read that most doesn’t like lengthy ones which I am not even sure if they have a right to determine what someone could or could not pen because everybody has choices (to read or not to read) anyway.

Anyway, where am I?

Ah, I’m about to say that forget scientific explanations (for once) medical terms and clinical mumbo jumbo; I am saying this as another ordinary person without falling back on my academic knowledge on the subject: I think being weird/psycho/eccentric/crazy/loony/cuckoo or whatever___ sits in the blood; or genes/DNA or whatever it is that’s responsible for carrying some certain traits through generation. I believe this condition is hereditary. I saw it from relatives, siblings, and offspring through the years. It manifests one way or the other. Some have it more pronounce and others can hide the symptoms better (like me) 🙂

But it is there, lurking just above the surface or sitting in the deepest chamber of their souls (mind) waiting for some environmental trigger to jump start their genetic make up.

There is no cure for it. It sits in someone’s core (or not) forming the real basis of ones personalit(y)ies. With me, I can manage; as long as I don’t spend too much time out there or don’t get too close to someone…

 

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14 thoughts on “paranoid me”

  1. Could it be because you are in an intellectually higher realm than they? Love the photo. Goes great with the words of truth in your post. Thank you for sharing this with us. Paranoia is a very terrible thing to have (I know from experience).

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    1. About your first sentence, I don’t know how to respond to it because I never( and will never) put myself higher than anyone intellectually or otherwise. Perhaps the most I could say about “us” “paranoid” is we’re different. I have no idea how much since everyone has own perception of things. I am only basing my conclusion out of experience.

      I wonder how you are dealing with it or if there is some improvement, did/do you have counseling, took/taking medication, how about family reaction? moral support, friends? jobs? social life? my answer to all of my inquiries is no.

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      1. My answer to your questions are Yes. Medications: anti-depressants, anxiety meds. Reason: Chemical Imbalance. Family: For many years I felt shamed. Not anymore. They have learned more and have more understanding. Therapy? Yes. Many years. Job? Yes, worked many years and retired/disability. Friends? Yes and no. Some people understand and other people don’t.

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      2. first of all, thank you for answering truthfully. I always curious how others deal with their handicaps in the hope of learning something useful. There are lots of information floating around but i rather hear it right from the source.

        I think lucky are the ones who have people backing them up no matter what. illnesses which are not physically visible are often misunderstood and frown upon. sometimes i want to trade places with those ignorant people but then again, not.

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      3. I completely understand. When I first started having nervous breakdowns my family thought I was putting on an act and treated me with repulsion. I was shunned and shamed. Then they learned about my illness and are more understanding now. But it sure was hard to recover with them treating me the way they were.

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      4. my family (and most people in my country) only understand one problem = money problem. like i said before, my first and only visit to a psychiatrist ended up in fiasco when he told me that i have a luxury problem when most of my sort are struggling with where the next meal is going to come from.

        friends, is almost non-existent because i find/feel that i have nothing in common with most people. betrayal by others is already hard to accept let alone from your own flesh and blood.

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      5. Wow, I can hear you about friends! I have experienced the same thing (about trust) with friends and family! I don’t know where you live. I thought you lived in the US. That’s really too bad that “psychiatrist” feels this way – he isn’t very good. Find another one that is really and truly a psychiatrist.

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      6. I live in Europe. Belgium to be exact. I came here 27 years ago but I still consider Philippines as my home country. The psychiatrist is real alright albeit prejudice and he’s a European. I don’t know if I’m going to repeat the visit to any specialist. At our age I am not sure if it matters anymore who and what we are. I learned to live with it and I have not so much trouble with being me. It is the people I am having difficulties with. But since we are part of this society whether we like it or not…

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      7. Belgium must be a very beautiful place to live. I have never been there. I understand your feelings about people. I too have been hurt by so many people that it is difficult to trust but there really are some people that are worth trusting. I have a problem with self-esteem which makes it difficult for me to be around some people especially crowds. I hope you can find at least one or two good friends that are trustworthy and will enrich your life.

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      8. Belgium is a beautiful historical place being the battleground of Europe, but also a very expensive place to live. the current tax is about 70 percent and they just upgraded energy cost by 30 percent and so forth and so on you know… cost of living…

        I agree with you about some people worth trusting. I have met few who restored my faith in humanity that’s why I have not given up yet. I have very few trusted friends and they are there through thick and thin. they understand that I have no need of socializing in frequent basis and they don’t bother me a lot.

        About self-esteem… mine is almost non-existent. you have seen couple of my pictures and though there is nothing wrong with me physically, if anyone ask me, I would say I look like Pumba (the wild pig in Lion king) I rather crawl under the ground when entering a room full of people. The problem is: you would not see it in me. Everyone thinks I am Miss Confidence herself. Don’t ask me how I do it because I am not aware I look self-assured even walking in the streets, people say.

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      9. That is good that you can “act” confidence. They say, “fake it until you make it.” 🙂 Sort of on the same subject; one class member had a quote on their picture for solitude, something like this, “If you are lonely when you are alone then you are in very bad company.” LOL! I can relate to that quote because I enjoy my solitude most of the time. I must be in good company. Haha

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      10. I don’t act and I don’t fake. I thought I am shy and aloof. apparently people don’t see it.

        Anyway, I agree with you on solitude. In my “about me” page, I wrote that I am most happy when I am alone.

        I am probably paranoid, lunatic, manic depress etc. but there is nobody I rather be.

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      11. No worries, I got it. I appreciate the conversation we’re having. I am not so much onion skinned or something. One thing I learned from life is to put things in proper perspective.

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