How to survive paranoia: Living life when death is imminent

People often make fun of me for disliking elevators. And escalators. And sharp objects. And strangers. Alleys, airplanes, trains, roller coasters, semi trucks. The list of things that I live in (slight) fear of seems to be never ending and constantly growing. The people that are around to make fun of that list seems to grow right along with it.

Dani, why won't you take the elevator? What do you mean you don't take escalators? 

For me it isn't a hard choice to make. The elevator mechanism is going to collapse and everyone inside will plummet to their death. The escalator is going to implode upon itself and everyone will be sucked into the gears -- to their death. The knife, or whatever sharp object it is, is going to cut into me. The stranger in the alley might actually pull out a gun or a knife. The airplane is going to plummet to the earth below, the train is going to be derailed, the roller coaster is going to stall or fall apart, the semi truck is going to explode, flinging sharp metal pieces all around.

I live in a world of illogical fears, where I focus on all of these stupid little details that might occur. By might we're talking about 1%. However: I'm not afraid to admit that because I have it (mostly) under control.  How? When I'm afraid of every little thing that moves -- or doesn't?

I surround myself with people that laugh at my stupid fears. The people that tell me I'm a fucking idiot for being afraid of derailed trains. When you focus, like I do, on these stupid little details -- these minute, impossible, intangible, idiotic things, it's easy to miss the big picture. Walking around with a magnifying glass burning a hole in my life is not how I want to live.

I've been forcing myself to take chances on things. Last night I climbed out a window and up a steep slope to stand on the roof of a two story house. Was I terrified? You bet your fucking ass I was. Any minute I was going to slip, someone was going to fall, the roof was going to collapse inwards. Was that in the back of my mind? Holy shit it was. But I forced myself to push it to the back. I looked up at the stars and out at the city, realized how small that moment on the roof was. I forced myself to ignore the fact that I was standing on an old roof and I forced myself to realize that I was standing in one of the greatest cities I've ever known with someone of the greatest people in my life to date.

I thought about that moment and what it would mean for my future, what it would mean for the relationships that I have with the people in my life. I looked at the big picture.

That's how I've been surviving. I look at the massive picture instead of every small thing that could go horribly wrong. I focus on the people I'm spending my time with and where I'm spending my time. I focus on the memories that I'm creating and the relationships that I'm building.

And mostly, ladies and gentlemen, I take the fucking stairs.