For the last few years, I've been having a lot of issues with paranoia.
I swear I hear people walking around my apartment while I'm in my bed and no one else is awake. It sounds like they're in my living room and I have to go check. Or it sounds like someone is messing with the doorknob, and I creep up to the door only to find no one is there. Or it sounds like someone has dropped something, or the cupboards are opened. The apartment building we live in has thin walls and I think the layouts are mirrored, so our neighbor's kitchen is against our kitchen, but I have to check. Otherwise I just lie there, my heart racing, convinced someone has broken into my apartment. This happens on a nightly basis and I'm having trouble sleeping.
I convinced Boyfriend to rent a second-story apartment just so I wouldn't have to deal with the windows and the back door, because there's no physical way to get to them. But when the trees rattle and scratch against the windows, I have to look through the blinds and make sure that, I don't know, Spiderman isn't trying to break into my apartment. Those branches are way too thin for anyone over forty pounds to climb on them, but I still have to look.
But the big thing is my stuff.
When I can't find things, I am so sure that someone else has touched them. Or moved them. Deliberately. It feels deliberate. The thing is: I'm usually the one who moved them and forgot all about it. I don't like it when other people touch my things, unless I've given them permission. Boyfriend and I share the bedroom, but no one else is allowed to go in there. Ever. And no one dares to touch my purse under any circumstance. Even Boyfriend has to have explicit instructions, otherwise he won't go near it.
Boyfriend and I are currently in the middle of an argument because I couldn't find my skirt this morning. I eventually found it stuck in the back of the closet, hidden out of sight. Since Boyfriend does all the laundry, I spent half the morning tearing the bedroom apart for this one damn piece of clothing, absolutely convinced that he's done this to me on purpose.
Except he never does things like this. He's sweet, mindful, respectful, and he never f*cks with me. No pranks, no practical jokes, no passive-aggressiveness, nothing. So it would be out of character for him to deliberately hide my things from me.
But I can't get it out of my head that he's responsible for this. That, somehow, I've offended him and this is him getting back at me. I am so convinced of this, and he's just completely baffled by my accusations, and now I feel like we're just going around in circles, unable to compromise or let it go. The feeling of betrayal is so huge that I can't focus on my work right now. I feel overwhelmed. I can't even attempt to concentrate on this.
All I can think is: why would he do this to me? When I'm, like, 90% sure he had nothing to do with it and doesn't have any idea what's going on right now.
I don't know what to do about this. I've been considering going back to therapy, but we're in the middle of a big insurance switch, so I'm putting it off until I know it's somebody I can continue to see once the insurance matter is settled.
I feel really crazy and paranoid right now, and this is a persistent feeling that has been going on for the last few years.
I swear I hear people walking around my apartment while I'm in my bed and no one else is awake. It sounds like they're in my living room and I have to go check. Or it sounds like someone is messing with the doorknob, and I creep up to the door only to find no one is there. Or it sounds like someone has dropped something, or the cupboards are opened. The apartment building we live in has thin walls and I think the layouts are mirrored, so our neighbor's kitchen is against our kitchen, but I have to check. Otherwise I just lie there, my heart racing, convinced someone has broken into my apartment. This happens on a nightly basis and I'm having trouble sleeping.
I convinced Boyfriend to rent a second-story apartment just so I wouldn't have to deal with the windows and the back door, because there's no physical way to get to them. But when the trees rattle and scratch against the windows, I have to look through the blinds and make sure that, I don't know, Spiderman isn't trying to break into my apartment. Those branches are way too thin for anyone over forty pounds to climb on them, but I still have to look.
But the big thing is my stuff.
When I can't find things, I am so sure that someone else has touched them. Or moved them. Deliberately. It feels deliberate. The thing is: I'm usually the one who moved them and forgot all about it. I don't like it when other people touch my things, unless I've given them permission. Boyfriend and I share the bedroom, but no one else is allowed to go in there. Ever. And no one dares to touch my purse under any circumstance. Even Boyfriend has to have explicit instructions, otherwise he won't go near it.
Boyfriend and I are currently in the middle of an argument because I couldn't find my skirt this morning. I eventually found it stuck in the back of the closet, hidden out of sight. Since Boyfriend does all the laundry, I spent half the morning tearing the bedroom apart for this one damn piece of clothing, absolutely convinced that he's done this to me on purpose.
Except he never does things like this. He's sweet, mindful, respectful, and he never f*cks with me. No pranks, no practical jokes, no passive-aggressiveness, nothing. So it would be out of character for him to deliberately hide my things from me.
But I can't get it out of my head that he's responsible for this. That, somehow, I've offended him and this is him getting back at me. I am so convinced of this, and he's just completely baffled by my accusations, and now I feel like we're just going around in circles, unable to compromise or let it go. The feeling of betrayal is so huge that I can't focus on my work right now. I feel overwhelmed. I can't even attempt to concentrate on this.
All I can think is: why would he do this to me? When I'm, like, 90% sure he had nothing to do with it and doesn't have any idea what's going on right now.
I don't know what to do about this. I've been considering going back to therapy, but we're in the middle of a big insurance switch, so I'm putting it off until I know it's somebody I can continue to see once the insurance matter is settled.
I feel really crazy and paranoid right now, and this is a persistent feeling that has been going on for the last few years.