Insomnia, and Paranioa.

Well, Its 3:30am and I'm wide awake. that sucks. at this hour you start thinking all kinds of crazy things. There is just something weird about being awake when everyone else on your side of the world is asleep. Being awake and alone in a dark house is a little scary too, I don't know why, I mean bad guys could just as easily get you when you asleep. I think its because when your awake and alone in the dark there is nothing else to do but think about what could happen, and that leads to paranoia.
When I was around four years old my dad told me that when you passed a falling rock sign you had to look out for a rogue Indian named Falling Rock. Apparently Falling Rock jumps on your car and hacks through the roof with his tomahawk. He also has an expressed interest in young children. After all they taste better. This is the entrance into my life of what is a family trait passed down from my mother, irrational fears.
The faster you go, I thought, the less chance you had of Falling Rock landing on your car. If only we weren’t stuck behind these Texans, we could floor it and not have a problem
“Yea Right dad.” I would say, “There is no such thing as an Indian named Falling Rock.” all the while I was looking out my window, just in case.
“That’s exactly what our other son said.” My father alleged “and look what happened to him.”
“What happened?” I said wide eyed
“Well, He’s not here is he?”
“Yea right, you never had another son, besides how could falling rock be In so many places at the same time.” I would say, still not so sure of myself. The rest of the trip would be spent wishing we weren’t stuck behind Texans so falling rock could not get us.
I come from a family of over believers, a clan of the easily duped. My mother almost exclusively watches shows on TV that are only there to scare people and she buys right into it. If she heard it on 20/20 it has to be true. If some reporter with a square jaw and a concerned look on his face stated that toilets are the leading cause of death amongst paraplegics, she would neurotically worry about it and eventually buy all new “safe” toilets for the whole house. When asked what she was so worried about, after all no one in the family was a paraplegic, she would shrug and say “what if I got in some horrible car accident? At least the bathrooms would be ready for me” or “what if a Paraplegic came over to the house? I don’t want his blood on my hands, besides I heard it on 20/20”
Unfortunately these fears were hereditary and I grew up in fear of just about anything. Not fears like monsters under my bed (although the chupacabra, I’m sure, was always outside my window just waiting for me to open it) I would take the stairs because what if my laces got stuck in the escalator and I was sucked under? I didn’t eat tuna for fear of killing dolphins; Botulism forced me to not eat canned vegetables; I was afraid I was going to get amnesia so I would write down things like that names of my pets and instructions on how to put on underwear, just in case; I was afraid that I would follow the wrong dad home from the fair and the new family would make me do their dishes for the rest of my life. “it’s a good thing this little guy followed us home” they would say. And for what? It doesn't do any good to worry, you will end up wasting your life if you do.