PARANOIA

So, I have this paranoia problem. I have had it for as long as I can remember. Once when I was about six and staying at my grandparents I got a little piece of popcorn kernel stuck in my throat. I was sure that the popcorn kernel was slowly suffocating me. I was so frustrated that no one would believe me when I explained that I was dying a slow and agonizing death. Miraculously the popcorn kernel removed itself and I felt better the next day.

I have thought about seeing a psychologist for my little disorder but I'm sure he or she would just tell me to project the blame on something my parent's did horribly wrong during my childhood. And really the only thing I can think of that might have contributed to my issue was allowing me to watch a "G" rated Dudley Moore movie about a little girl who died from Leukemia. I am still sure every suspicious bruise is a tell-tale sign of the dreaded disease. I could tell a million stories about having heart attacks, (kinda like Fred Sanford) as a kid, they occurred on the play ground at least once a week. My friends thought I was genuinely disturbed.

Anyway, you would think that this paranoia problem would have subsided a little during adulthood, but no, I am still afraid to eat hot dogs alone because of the common knowledge that hot dogs are the number one choking hazard in small children. And of course now I not only have myself to be paranoid about I have my kids too. TV shows like House, 24, and websites like WebMD haven't helped either. They have just created a more sophisticated paranoia problem. One day while Scott was at work he accidentally called me on his cell phone. I knew it was him because of our caller ID and I could faintly recognize his voice in the background. I was convinced he was trying to send me some secret message. What was I supposed to get out of this coded correspondence? What did he need me to do? Just before I decided to call the FBI and the National Guard and explain to them my belief that my husband had been abducted by a Mexican Drug Cartel while working near the Mexico/Arizona border, he came home. Thank goodness that would have been embarrassing.

The thing is I am finding people don't take me seriously anymore, like my doctor when Nash was born. I kept telling him that I couldn't breathe. His excuse was that if I was talking I was obviously breathing. Well, I wasn't buying that bag of bologna. Apparently I was one of those rare people who could talk even though they were not able to breathe. I won that battle, they gave me an oxygen mask. In an effort to be taken seriously, my goal in writing tonight is to describe the advantages of having paranoia.

First, I honestly believe that people who are paranoid have advanced intelligence. Trust, me anyone who can create the catastrophic scenarios I can create in my mind, is off the charts creative. We are talking beyond genius!

Second, as a mother I can imagine every possible dangerous situation my children can get into. Of course, this knowledge doesn't always enable me to prevent these incidents from occurring, but I think it helps sometimes. In fact, I am sure if it wasn't for a mother's paranoid delusions a lot more kids would die. I mean, men could never think of this horrible stuff.

Finally, if you are ever in a sticky situation, you want to be with me, because I go into every setting and think of the worst possible thing that could happen and what my escape strategy would be. Do you do that? No, I didn't think so, but aren't you glad someone does.

I hope I have convinced you all of the value of a paranoid person in your life. If you lack this tremendous quality, cling to someone like me who possesses enough paranoia for all to share. I can assure you it will be very beneficial.