Paranoia Devours My Life

For most of my adult life I've experienced a very intense, persistent sense of persecution. Before this year, I understood that there was something horribly wrong with me, and that it had to do with sex. I thought that other people could somehow know more about what was wrong with me than I could myself. At my worst, I was nearly delusional: I used to have nightmares about Nazis coming to get me and my family turning me over to the Nazis. Sometimes it felt like everything, animate and inanimate, overflowed with hate. Sometimes I still feel it, the hate coming from all direction--from the universe itself.

I felt judged. Horribly, horribly judged. It's like that feeling you get when a security guard or police officer eyes you with suspicion, except it's constant, and it comes from absolutely everything and everyone.

As silly as it seems now, I was terrified of gay people. Basically, I pretended like they didn't exist. I've never, knowingly, said one word to a gay person until this year. I always understood, thankfully, that this fear was an irrational one. However, my emotions were so strong that I just couldn't handle them. So I avoided them altogether, and I'm so thankful that I never hurt any gay person. Except for myself.

These days the paranoia is less profound, but still distressing. It's a lot easier to hide when you know what it is you're hiding. I've wrapped myself in layer upon layer of clever deceit. I'm especially proud of all my sacrificial secrets: my writing, my obsession with 80's music, 'My Little Pony' lol. There's even a level of interpersonal intrigue. So, if I'm hypothetically 'outed' at some point, I can place the blame on personal enemies trying to slight me, and so on and so forth. Although it seems excessive, these contingencies have given me confidence to pursue a kind of online double life, and at least now I can talk about these things and begin to heal on an emotional level.

Most of the time, I'm alright. Sometimes, I'm feeling very, very alone in the universe, and unable even to conceive of all the good parts of human life. I am only able to shrink away from the pain that stabs at me in this dark, loveless place. I live my life between two horrible choices: be myself, and hurt the people around me more than I can bear, or conform, and hurt myself more than I can bear. Because either choice is unbearable, I choose not to decide. I wish that the people I love could know, like I do, that I would never, ever do anything to shame them or hurt them. (Mother: I would throw myself off a bridge before I could hear you say you think I'm disgusting.)

This used to be immensely depressing for me, but I'm lot happier now than I was then. Now I can close my eyes and imagine what it's like to be free (can any of you describe that feeling?). I can write about things I dared not even think, and I find out if I'm really as alone as I feel. Now I feel like even though I can't live the life I'm supposed to, I can still be the person I'm supposed to be. I can be a better person--maybe even a good one. Maybe I could even be the sort of person who actually talks to gay people, and says nice, supportive things to them.

I hope this wasn't too off-topic and depressive. I sort of have this personal "closet industrial complex" that makes me quite self absorbed at times. Whenever I finally do work my way out of it to make some gesture to the outside world, I tend to ramble on and on because the window of opportunity is so small for me that I've just got to say what I can when I can.

Anyway: Has anyone else here experienced this kind of extreme paranoia? Not just worrying about being found out, but also this pervasive sense of extreme persecution? It seems like there could be a tendency for this one aspect of life to creep over into all other aspects. If so, how do you manage?