I had a schizophrenic moment today. Yesterday, I put in new air filters. Today, I wondered if I put them in the right airflow direction, thinking that I didn’t and that I was breathing polluted air. Today, I thought because I had to jam them in that they are set to high and will catch on fire. I called Scottie for reassurance that all was well. I am somewhat reassured.

Paranoid, obsessive thinking is like gravel against the eardrum with a cockroach tucked in making a bed for himself. It is like a scratch on a CD of Green Day replaying the same “Fuck” while my car is stuck in the middle of a car wash, the thick ropey things surrounding all four sides so I can’t see out. It is thinking over and over again that one of my cats is going to get stuck outside in a hailstorm. My cats are indoor cats and I live in Arizona.

Most of the time I am free from obsessive thinking, so when it is happening it is five times as worse as it could be because it is so unfamiliar. Thank God when it slides out the side of my mouth and disappears in the  ether.

Paranoia is paralyzing. To date, I have been able to leave my house and enter the world for sometime. I don’t take entering the world for granted. I feel I am blessed every time I do. There are so-so days. And there are the glorious days. So-so when I swim through the tasks I have, leaving a tray of bubbles to pop behind me. Glorious are the days when the love I have for people and the love they have for me consistently causes small, silent eruptions; a Gerber Daisy pushed form the earth, tulips pushed from the earth.

Maybe you have noticed in some of my blogs I throw a word in that doesn’t quite make sense but the word sounds right. I think sound drives writing 25% of the time. With that, I’ll spring up, comforted by the fact that my bed is unmade and I can roll right in, covers up to my chin.