I must be quick, I can feel him coming.
There are many kinds of what we call ‘fear’. Blatant terror, for one. That’s when you’re suddenly chased by somepony in a hockey mask carrying a hatchet. That’s pretty scary when it happens, but you get over it really quickly. Then there’s gory horror. That’s the sort of irky feeling you get when somepony’s intestines spill out onto the floor, or their left eye suddenly explodes. It’s sickly, sure, and it gives you the creeps, but the effect doesn’t last long.
Not like paranoia.
That feeling that there’s something there. You know there’s something there. You can feel it, you’re sure you can see it, hear it. It’s the creaking just on the other side of the door, or the whistling of the wind through an open window. Those shapes you can see in your wardrobe when you forget to close the door at night, or the creature that chases you up the stairs when you turn the light off. Paranoia plays on all of our senses. We know there’s something there. We just can’t place it. It gives us enough, just enough, so that we are forced to use our own thoughts to explain it.
And you’ll deliberately try to come up with the worst thing possible. If you feel something brush your shoulder, then it’s the cloak of the knife wielding maniac behind you. If you hear a dog bark outside your window, then it’s the eight legged, faceless pony that’s slowly climbing the walls of your house. You can hear the wind whistling, or is that the faceless pony crying out to you? You can hear a tree branch tap the window, or is that the faceless pony? You feel something tickle your ear, likely just a reflex, or is that the knife wielding pony? Your throat’s suddenly dry. You can taste fear, or more you can taste something acrid and bitter. Is that the knife wielding pony? You’re too scared to look over your shoulder, but you want to see it for yourself. We have, as part of our own genetic coding, a strong desire for certainty.
We’re curious by nature. Often that enables us to make choices that otherwise wouldn’t be open to us. Other times it can work against us. Paranoia plays on your curiosity. It sends your body into turmoil. You must know what it is; you have to put your mind at ease. But what you may find, you may not like. You’re scared. Scared to open the door and see what’s creaking the floorboards, scared to lift the curtains to see what’s tapping at the window. That’s paranoia, and it’s very powerful.
Paranoia can break a pony. Too scared to sleep; what if it gets in through the window? Too scared to leave the house; what if he’s just on the other side of the door? Too scared, even, to talk to somepony; what if the knife pony doesn’t like it? What then? It can slowly chip away at a pony. Paranoia is like a poison with no antidote. You can’t ‘cure’ paranoia. It’s not a sickness in the conventional sense. It is a sickness of the mind, and it is a particularly scary sickness of the mind, mostly for those who are forced to endure it, but also for those forced to help those who endure it, despite the number of times they are beaten down or pushed away.
Paranoia can do things to a pony.
***
He’s here. Where is he? I can feel him. He’s there, just outside my vision, brushing against my shoulder, whistling in my ear. Where are you?
I’ve had my fair share of trouble. My life hasn’t been easy, but noponys’ is. But mine was just that little bit harder. See, everypony has control over their own mind. Their mind is encased, in a sense, in what could be likened to a large wall. This wall is what keeps him… it?.. out. Some are stronger than others. Like, some can have large concreate barricades, whilst others may have a small wooden picket fence. Even then, that’s usually enough to keep… whatever he is… out. You can built up your wall, through mental stimulation and learning. Get regular sleep, keep fit and healthy, be creative and mentally active and your wall will be strong. He won’t get in.
But whilst you can build it up, he can break it down. He usually can’t break it down very fast, though. I can feel you, where are you? He does it over a long time. Maybe even over the course of your entire life. He chips away, slowly. At first, it’s difficult for him, because your wall is strong. But all he has to do is find a crack, a fissure, and then he can get his leverage. He can then begin to talk to you. Not like, talk to you, but influence you. He can give you orders, convince you of falsehoods or persuade you into deceit. But, of course, those are just his games. He will try and keep you awake. He will try and stop you eating, exercising, learning. If he can do that, then the crack in your wall will widen. It will get slowly larger. Where previously he could fit a pebble, now he can fit a stone.
Now is when he becomes dangerous, and now is when you need to take caution. Now, he has even more control over you. He will come and go, but he’ll always be there. He’s here now, but I can’t find him. Where are you? Now, you will begin to get paranoid, anxious, and superstitious. You’ll think twice about getting up to use the toilet at night. You won’t take that shortcut home anymore. Again, this is him trying to widen the gap, trying to get himself in. Some of you may already be experiencing this. If so, then ignore him. You can beat him, but you have to try really hard. You have to ignore those little worries that pop into your head and you have to keep yourself healthy. Trust me, it can be done.
Is that you?
Where once he could fit a stone, now he can fit a rock. If he can wear you down further, he becomes very active and very dangerous. You’ll feel things. You’ll feel him tickle you behind the ear, or scratch the inside of your leg. You’ll feel somepony tap you on the shoulder when you’re alone in bed. That’s him. He can touch you, but you can’t touch him. Strange, really. You’ll hear things. He’ll begin to follow you more closely, whispering softly into your ear, planting even more fears into your head. He can trick you too. He can make things appear that aren’t really there, he can fool your eyes, hoodwink your senses. At this stage, you can’t trust anything you see or hear. It is imperative that you do not fight back at this stage. If you can beat him you can’t beat him then you can begin to slowly recover and rebuild you wall. Keep him out let him in.
But if he can bring your wall down further, then you are beyond saving. Fighting him at this stage is futile. He has, for all intents and purposes, won. He will be able to touch you, and it will feel like somepony is there. He can make you see things that aren’t real, but that you can touch, hear, and smell. I can feel him. He can talk to you, and you’ll hear him clearer than if he were sitting right there next to you. Don’t bother covering your ears. He can speak straight into your mind. He can also get inside you. He can twist himself around your skeleton, or seep into your muscles and brain, taking control of your body. He can make you do things you have no control over. He has bested you by this stage, and there is now no hope of salvation. He has won and he will always, always win in time.
He’s everywhere even there, in your room, as you read this. He’s always chipping away at your wall can you feel that?. You have to fight him you can’t fight me. Don’t listen to what he’s telling you, they are all lies but what was that outside?. All lies can you feel me doing that?. Don’t look. It’ll only make him angry I’m always here. Fight him, and keep your wall strong did you hear that?.
It’s just him trying to control you I’m trying to help you for his own malicious purposes don’t listen to him. I don’t know why he does it something’s outside the door. He just seems to enjoy messing with ponies as you read, it’s slipping past you, just outside your field of vision. He got me, in time is it behind you?. Just remember the most important things it’s hiding somewhere.
Don’t look I’m always here.
Don’t listen can you hear it breathing?.
Fight back can you feel it?.
It’s right next to you.
Can you see it?
I’m always watching you.
