I’m so paranoid of somethings.

Fire is one of them.

When I was a kid my brother and I literally were playing with matches and almost started a forest fire behind my parents house.

Well, we did start a forest fire, but we were able to put it out in a timely manner before it got too big.

It left a circular, charred shape of about 15-20 ft across.

We had to hook all of the hoses together from the well pump to get it to reach it and had a couple of buckets we were using and everything out there.

A few months later my Mom’s friend was over with her kids and they wanted to go for a walk back in the woods.

My brother left me to deal with my Mom and the obviously burned area.

I ended up bawling before we even went outside and broke down telling my Mom about the fire.

I honestly can’t remember if we got in trouble for it or not.

Probably did.

But it was over and done so there wasn’t much to punish.

And I felt like shit having to tell her but she would’ve noticed immediately and had massive amounts of questions.

Part of me thinks my guilt laced breakdown was enough punishment for my parents.

My Dad always jokes that he thought Joel (my brother) and I were playing so well together that day in the woods.

Ha!

He had no idea we almost burned down the country block.

Lately I’ve been having really bad anxiety of my apartment catching on fire with Bruce (my dog) trapped inside.

I turn off anything that could make a spark before I leave him alone.

Lights.

Fans.

Everything but the air conditioning and television.

I know it’s mildly irrational but for some reason I have this terrible feeling that he’s going to be trapped in here as it burns to the ground.

And it honestly scares the shit out of me.

Nothing happened recently to start this thought and anxiety up.

It just kinda has been happening for the last few months.

I hate it too.

I’ll almost have a panic attack as I drive away from him but I can’t bring him with me everytime I go somewhere.

Even though he’s my emotional support animal.

He’s not welcome everywhere.

Especially if I have a physical doctor’s appointment or something.

He comes with me to all mental health stuff.

Group and therapy.

Anything at my psych NP’s office too.

He comes with me on most errands unless it’s the middle of summer and I can’t leave him in the car if I have to go inside somewhere.

And it’s full blown anxiety over this.

And I don’t know how to stop it.

It’s like my anxiety morphs from one thing to another.

I work on one aspect in therapy, so another one pops up suddenly and I have to work on that one.

I don’t know how to bury this one.

I don’t know how to curb it.

The second I get over the hill from my apartments I can breathe again because I can see that my building is not on fire.

It’s like a wave of relief swoops over me.

I don’t give a fuck about my things burning up.

I only care about Bruce being stuck in there.

Well, I’d care about my stuff burning up if it did, but you know what I mean.

I care more about him than my stuff.

I’ve been trying to shake it, but I can’t.

I’ve also been thinking about how I haven’t seen any turtles crossing the road lately, and today, I had to get out and put a turtle on the other side of the street where it’s safer because it was crossing the street.

So I can’t help but think that the fire is going to happen, it’s just a matter of time.

And that honestly scares the shit out of me.

I know it’s probably not going to happen.

But it might.

And if I lose my dog to a fire that I’m (or anyone is) responsible for I’m going to fucking lose it.

I don’t know what I’ll do.

It all scares me.

I’ve been using my EMDR tools and TouchPoints on this.

When it gets bad, I have to.

There’s nothing else I can do that helps me calm down.

I haven’t had a lot of delusions lately besides my standard ones.

So I think this new-ish obsession is on the border of being delusional.

I’m due for a psychotic episode and that’s not a fun or encouraging thing to be waiting around for.

It’s the opposite of a good time.

And it’s not like I’m waiting around for it.

I’m just hyper aware that I haven’t had one in a solid month or so now.

Granted, the daily Paliperidone is doing a much, much better job for me than the injection was.

But there’s still this hesitation to labeling myself as in recovery.

But people in recovery can’t help when their episodes pop up either.

And today, I’m just trying to curb my fire anxiety.

– Keren