I
set forward this minor treatise on: What is paranoia
and how does it function? I have insights, but they remain blurry;
however, we may find something of interest on this voyage.
I was suspended in studies,
wandering through thoughts, when it became apparent. Paranoia is unchartered
consciousness. It is there with its inhabitant, with or without conscious
entertainment. For example, a person is at a restaurant, mingling with friends,
and a little tipsy. As this person goes to their car, he gets this eerie
feeling. He looks around, but no one is present. But as he gets closer to the
car, this eerie feeling is intensifying. He rushes. Once in the car, his heart
is pounding, but still, no one is around. This is triggered from, and by, an
interior reservoir: those scary movies, those few stories, or this chaotic
media. But we are speaking to paranoia, a mental element, that may or may not
be a stitched and prominent inhabitant.
A woman is suffering. She has a
disorder—where she wrestles to maintain a clear horizon. One day while doing
her chores, a bolt of energy hits her in the hip. Be it the energy, or her
perception, she is immediately, and unrealistically, paranoid. She closes the
curtains, locks the doors, and runs frantically through the house, checking all
the rooms and windows. A few minutes later, she regains touch with reality. She
notices her behavior, and begins to shed tears. This dungeon is horrid—a
constant reminder of the disorder. But again, this reservoir is there, it is
both active and inactive, and like anything else, familiarity, or repetition,
hebetates affectation.
But
what is it? Where does it come from? What is its functionality? and this little
treatise is not about to exhaust these questions.
We could speculate until we feel
good; however, we are not going to become intimate with paranoia unless we ask
those gripped by its vices.
Allegedly, paranoia is a mental
illness—present in people with mental illnesses, or using a drug, or suffering
from deep trauma. But it is this author’s argument that increments of paranoia
live in each person, as a source geared towards survival. We, indeed, have
heard of something like this—as found in human anger. But paranoia is an
energy, triggered by unfocused thoughts, or eerie behaviors found in others—or the
perception of a given situation that does not seem to fit a given expectation.
But what if one were to tap into this reservoir, as to entertain this energy,
if done so daily, or weekly, would not this person become better equipped? Moreover,
if I sit in silence and generate a vibration and sit through it until it
dissipates, would I not recognize this exact feeling when it strikes again?
Indeed, an argument is forming: When paranoia strikes, instead of fleeing it
or trying to efface it, by desperation, just pause in safety, if possible, and
feel it until it loses its power. We get an image of how paranoia
functions. It taps into spheres in the brain, especially, where perception is
challenged by delusion. That is to say, each person has a notion of how his or
her world should function; when this image is challenged, one is struck by
paranoia. It becomes obvious that there are various levels of paranoia. Some
people are experiencing higher levels than those people that we say are normal.
But for moderate levels of paranoia, one might be able to tackle it head on.
Indeed,
so little has been said. But a point or two has been made.
