We've already established that I do completely ridiculous things when I'm paranoid.
I'm getting ready to do a crap ton of work on my house and I'm already mildly freaking out about several things.
The idea of making all the decisions that will need to be made
The chaotic state my house will be in when everything starts rolling
Whether I'll be able to keep my temper in check when I get overwhelmed and frustrated
But none of those things compares to what hit me this morning.
The paranoia. Moving forward doesn't feel safe, even though I know it will be fine.
I called to schedule an appointment to have my trees topped (which is not a euphemism). I immediately started thinking about these guys that would know where I live and would most likely be able to figure out which room is mine or at the very least a good entrance point.
I also called and left a message for the same guy that work on my seesters house to do the work during the renovation that roomie refuses to do (the big jerk, kidding!). So far he has done a great job, I've met him several times and the guy that works with him as well. He hasn't murdered them so it seems that all would be ok.
But it still just makes me so anxious. This idea of people coming into my house and learning the layout, having a key/access to come in and out.
Frankly I blame Dateline NBC and all their "single girl is stalked and murdered by a delivery person" specials.
I know it's more than that. As I unpack these steamer trucks of experiences and memories and asking an impartial party to get involved I'm learning just how pervasive and entwined this fear and paranoia is, how deeply it runs. So I'm working on it and through it because I realize that unless I want to be this crazy recluse that has 28 locks on every door and never leaves her house I have to figure out how to be functionally paranoid...as opposed to the paralyzing paranoid I am right now.