Real Paranoia

I suppose "paranoia" is the right word for it, although the proper
definition might be agoraphobia - that is my crippling fear of the
outside world, and the demons that inhabit it. Fear of leaving the
house, the only place where I feel reasonably safe and comfortable,
knowing that the people who surround me are my family and friends,
rather than the evil beings that roam the streets looking for people
like me. Perhaps you find that somewhat crazy, and difficult to agree
with? Most people do, and I must therefore call myself paranoid. But I
know, in the depths of my soul, that I'm right.

It is often said that the best way to conquer a fear is to face up to
it; to realise that it is nothing but your mind playing tricks on you.
I disagree. Consider a person who is afflicted with vertigo, and who
avoids heights at any cost. In my humble opinion, anything which
changes that person into a mountaineer, or bunjee jumper, is liable to
end up harming the person, rather than helping them. Similarly a fear
of spiders is totally rational, and those who do not have this fear are
the ones who have something wrong with them. However, my fear is
ruining my life, and I really have tried to face up to it. God, how
I've tried.

A few days ago, I decided to go to a small shop near my house to
purchase some cigarettes, as I was running low. Alas, I need to smoke
the foul weed to keep hold of my sanity when I'm forced to leave the
house, as I was on this particular occasion. The thought of going to
the shop itself did not bother me; rather it was the fear of the way I
knew I would feel once I left the safety of my home. I was resolved to
face my fear, though, and a short walk on a bright Sunday afternoon
could hardly be termed dangerous.

As I left the house and took the few steps required to reach the
pavement, I saw movement in the corner of my left eye, and froze. What
hideous demon was approaching with such lumbering gait? What possible
intent could it have other than to suck my very lifeblood from my
throbbing veins? I urged my muscles to move, to start me running back
inside the house, but they would not comply. I was paralysed by my
fear, and could do nothing but listen as the monster approached.

After what seemed like an hour, the ghastly being lumbered past me. My
thundering heart beat stopped, and I managed to rotate my eyes to look
upon the thing. When I realised that it was merely an old woman, my
heart began to beat again, and I breathed for the first time in
minutes. You may mock me, but at that moment I was more relieved than I
ever thought possible.

Suddenly, the unthinkable happened. The old crone ceased her relentless
lurching, and turned her scaly hide to face my direction once more.
Now, as I sit here in my comfortable chair inside my house, I could
quite easily believe that she had merely wished to ask the time of day,
or to exchange pleasantries. But then, outside, I was certain that she
was some kind of monster that meant to kill me. This time, my muscles
responded, and I turned towards my house and ran. Once I had reached
the door, I began fumbling for my keys, ever watching the "woman" who
still stood by my gate.

She took a step forward, and I dropped my door keys in sheer terror.
When I had picked them up again, I saw that her mouth was open, and she
was speaking some words my brain could not make sense of. I realised at
that instant that she was certainly a foul witch, and she was at that
moment casting a spell on my person. As my key finally turned in the
door, I heard her yell,

"You will be damned forever in HELL!" followed by a cackling laugh,
which continued even after I had slammed the door and fallen, panting,
to the ground. I lay there for hours, willing myself to stand up and
forget about the incident. When I finally did manage it, all I could do
was sit in my innermost room and smoke cigarette after cigarette with
trembling fingers.

I have not left the house since, and my brother was kind enough to
bring me some cigarettes, once he had persuaded me to open the door for
him. I have more or less recovered from the incident now, and I have
begun to think that it was, perhaps, not a witch that I so nearly fell
prey to that day. Although I was certain at the time, I have come to
think that she had actually suggested that I ring the BELL, due to my
lack of coordination with my keys. That is, in fact, probably the
case.

So, the old woman really was just an old woman, and not an evil witch,
or other spawn of Satan. Will I try going out tomorrow? Possibly. Of
course, she could have been placed merely to lull me into a false sense
of security, and even now the hordes of darkness are gathering outside
my door... waiting.