Saw this on Pinterest. Had to reblog. Read to find out why. <source>
Anyone want to take a wild guess which one I am?
<I’ll wait until you decide to stop laughing at me.>
Yes, sadly/ridiculously…I literally have crawled around on the ground like a ninja, looking through the window quietly, worried that there is a masked murderer knocking on my front door.
<Seriously? How many more times am I going to be interrupted by your laughter?!>
I struggle at times with an incredibly vivid imagination. I don’t have any valid reason to google things like “home panic room,” or to sneak around my own home like I’m trying to keep from setting off a complex laser security system. And yet, I still have freak out moments in the middle of perfectly innocent, normal situations.
Against my better judgement, I’m going to share some of those moments here…there are too many to share them all. Please, for the love of all that is green and good, try to keep your laughter to yourself.
– In my MW apartment, which was this super old house split into 4 apartments (think shabby chic, with an emphasis on the shabby part) I slept with a blow-horn by my bed, the tv on, and only after a thorough sweep of all closets. My dad wouldn’t let me have a bat to protect myself against intruders (he’s from the line of thinking that it would have been taken from me and used against me), so that explains the need for the blow-horn. In case of an emergency, I was supposed to press the button on that baby, and my knight in shining armor would be….my 75 year old neighbor. Womp, womp, womp. This neighbor did have a pretty rockin’ gun arsenal, but looking back I’m not sure if that would have been a good thing or a bad thing. He was on oxygen for pete’s sake.
Anyway, one night shortly after moving in I had just fallen asleep when *BAM*CRASH*FREAKIN’ LOUD NOISE*!!! I sit straight up in bed, heart pounding, mind racing. It truly sounded like someone had busted down my front door. After cursing the fact that I was a single girl in a new town working a grown-up job with NO-PROSPECTS-OF-A-HUSBAND-THIS-WASN’T-PART-OF-MY-5-YEAR-PLAN, I resigned myself to the fact that I was going to have to go find the source of the noise. Armed with my blowhorn and a flashlight, I walked through the house like a 007 agent, except I flipped on every darn light in the place.
And yet, I was not able to target the cause of the noise. All doors remained intact and locked, all furniture standing upright, no windows busted out. So, I went to bed (with all the lights still on), and spent the rest of the night tossing and turning. The next morning I did another sweep…but still no answers. I stayed completely freaked out all day, thinking of my plan of attack for bedtime, planning on writing goodbye notes for my family so they would know how much I loved them. It was only before bedtime the next night when I realized that one of the shelves, which had previously been holding a variety of wooden/glass objects, was no longer on the wall. It had fallen behind a chair…and in doing so had completely freaked me out.
– For a while Chris and I got really into watching all of those thriller-murder mystery shows on tv. Sometimes it seems like that’s all you can find on tv anyway. However, there came a point when I had to go completely cold turkey and give them up…because the lines between reality and tv were blurring for me.
Case in point: Chris has a large knife that was given to him. He would refer to it as his “home defense,” but I didn’t like how it was just laid carelessly around his apartment. This is important to know because, for a period of time, I decided that Chris was probably going to kill me. Again, this was completely, IN NO WAY, based in fact or reality. It was just that in most of those murder-mystery shows the boyfriend ends up being the guilty one.
So, in my perfectly INSANE line of thinking, I decided that the knife was enemy #1. Everytime I went over to his apartment I would wait until he stepped out of the room, and then I would dash around and find the knife, then stash it under a pile of clothes or boxes or trash or whatever else I could find in his bachelor-pad to cover it with.
I mean seriously?! What was I thinking?!
Chris eventually caught on, talked me down from my fear, put his knife away, and we switched to “The Office” and a Japanese game-show.
– Flash forward to married life, nice house/nice neighborhood, husband gone to school for the night. I pull up to the house and see an unfamiliar car parked in front of our mailbox. Hum. Immediately my brain goes into overload…where is the driver of that car? Were there passengers? Are they in my house? Are they casing the property?
I MEAN, EXACTLY HOW MANY OF OUR THINGS WILL THEY BE ABLE TO FIT INTO THEIR RED FORD FOCUS? WHAT KIND OF CRIMINALS DRIVE A RED FORD FOCUS ANYWAY?! AM I DEALING WITH AMATEUR CRIMINALS HERE?!
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see a couple of Mormon missionaries sitting with my neighbor on her porch drinking iced tea.
You would have thought that when I realized it was just the Mormon’s that I would have chilled out, but no. Instead I started worrying about whether or not they would try to come knocking on my door, and I spent the next 30 minutes spying on them through the blinds in my bedroom. <No, I am not comparing the Mormon missionaries to serial killers. I was just home alone and am not good at telling people no/don’t like confrontation.>
Eventually the missionaries got in their Focus and drove away…maybe they saw me peeking at them through my blinds and were more scared of me than I was of them. 😛
– And now for my most recent panic moment.
As you guys will probably remember, Chris and I have spent the last year visiting various churches in the area. As a result, we’ve had visitors from many of these churches trying to stop by to drop off homemade goodies, information about the church, to invite us, etc.
One afternoon I was taking a nap on the couch, completely relaxed…when suddenly, the doorbell rang. To most people, the doorbell ringing would be nothing…but I’m not most people. Remember that whole 1% thing? Anyway, the doorbell rings and I start looking for my best exit route/sneaking toward the door/looking throught the peephole and praying that whoever was on the other side wouldn’t shoot me in the eye. Then, to add to my nervousness, I hear/see the doorknob jiggle a little…OH MMMM GEEE! I look out just in time to see an unknown man walking away and getting into his unknown vehicle and driving away toward an unknown destination.
While I watch him drive away, I start wondering what he left hanging on the doorknob, and decide there is only one possible thing it could be. A bomb. That’s right. A bomb in a small box or bag, just waiting to blow me up.
There is still one small part of me clinging to sanity, and that piece of my brain tells me to stop being silly and just open the door to see what it is. *Deep breath*quick prayer*and…oh. How anticlimatic.
It ended up being a welcome bag from FBC with pamphlets and a free coffee mug. How nice of them.
And how stupid of me.
So there you go. I think it’s time to stop before A) you get even more ideas about how to totally freak me out, or B) you totally lose ALL respect for me. I know it’s irrational, I know it’s silly….and it is something that I’m working on.
It is in that spirit that I’d like to share a couple of Pinterest jewels of wisdom (check them out below). If I can help even just 1 person overcome some of their worries and fears then it will all be worth it. (Doesn’t it seem kind of self-inflating when people say things like that?)
No, but really. Fear and worry are not from the Lord, and we just don’t need either of them in our lives people!
KEEP CALM & DON’T FREAK OUT EVERYTIME THE DOORBELL RINGS!