And there's another reason I have to fight this paranoia: I feel it leads to that "othering" NIMBYism that's toxic to society. And yeah, that's REALLY BAD. Don't do that, Thomas. But I can't brush off the fact that there are dangerous people out there. And it'll take time, again, to calm down.

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It's kind of why I don't really warm up to slasher movies. I can't stand not feeling safe in my own home. I think over time I'll be numb to Psycho Guy (or maybe he'll die) but it'll take a LOT to make this feel like a wonderful warm cozy home now. And I just... hate that.

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I come and go out of here as needed, but I also feel like a prisoner, like there'll be one time I go out and Norman Bates will be there with his wig and his knife ready for me. And I'm so, so, so damn sick of that. I feel like this feeling is unique to me, and still I can't shake it.

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I feel like most of my life there have been situations where something seemed to pose a threat in a place where I should feel safe, and I was forced to come up with alternate routes out of the need for sheer survival. Crazy Upstairs Guy has done that to me again, and I can't rationalize that.

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And it had a weird effect on me because I've lived a lot of my life that way, since the first grade when there lived a group of abusive hillbilly yokels down the street that would beat us up if we passed their house. Back then, we had to circumvent it in any way possible.

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