I've This Creeping Suspicion

We all have our routine or familiar scripts for going to bed each night. I brush my teeth, remove my contacts, and if on a "school night," I make sure to set out my clothes and prepare my lunch for the next day.

But what about the mental routines? Those nagging thoughts? The worries that come to mind as if they are on some kind of whisper campaign? Softly.

On most nights, as I slip into bed, I wonder what would happen if a car lost control and crashed into my house. I imagine how it would likely happen. Where the car would make its impact. I figure it will come from the street corner, right into my front bedroom. I'd be safe, but the crash would be deafening. I'd shoot up in bed with startled fear, teeth clenched so hard my teeth feel like they could break. Thankfully I wear my bite guard religiously.

I've woken up before in a panic, because of a loud noise. Once I felt like I was experiencing an earthquake. No one else had felt it. And on all those occasions, I saw flashes of red against the muted tones of night. Hallucinations, I'm sure.

And what does it all mean? Unconscious fodder my next therapy session, no doubt. Perhaps it is my phantom hitchhiker revealing himself. He knows as sleep nears, he can spring to life. Perhaps because my mind is clearer. No distractions from the world.

If fear in animals is linked to learning, then where did I learn this fear response? When I was in kindergarten, I remember a story about a garbage truck that rolled from a parking lot down a hill into someone's house. I can't remember if someone died from it or not. I cannot separate the reality from how I worked it over in my head.

Then of course, there's my fear of tornadoes. All things I can't control. So is that what it's about? Or is just my overactive imagination? And if that's the case, do I have such loss of control fears because of my overactive imagination? Without all that, could I come up with half the yarn I spin on this blog?

And therefore, is part of my head just one big mess of creativity and neuroses, mashed together like mounds of Play-Doh, inseparable?

So there you have it. The logical conclusions to the emotional cocktail party mingling inside of me. Think of it what you will. I know I do.