My friend told me about his bed bug infestation. They would cascade in from the cracks in the wall and amass on the floor. My friend would see one hop on to his desk, disappear, and he would have to leave his apartment for a day out of fear. Where there is one there are millions. He and his roommates would sleep with the lights on. They would wake up preemptively if they slept at all. Their dreams were filled with itches and their nightmares were of tossing and turning. Some of the time they would wake up and find nothing at all. No bites and no bugs. They'd think they were free. But a day or two of relief would pass and there they'd be, waiting menacingly on the pillow for a neck to bite into.

They packed up all their clothes and put them in plastic bags and froze them. They unfroze their clothes and laid them out to bake in the sun on asphalt. They sent all their stuff to storage. They slept as often as they could at their girlfriends'. They hated going home and slept in the library. They slept without blankets, sheets, pillows or clothes. There was a constant state of paranoia and they would itch even when there was nothing to itch. They called the exterminator but if one survives they all survive, and they all did survive, and at this point it was going on a month and a half of this. Bags grew under their eyes and each of them only had two pairs of clothes, they would wash one each day. Their schoolwork failed and they began a calculated drinking regime to escape from the constant worry.

Eventually they bought new wardrobes and exited from their lease agreement two months before its end. My friend still has nightmares of being in that apartment naked and covered in black dotted bed bugs.

My friend told me this story and I don't think I've ever shuddered more. I itched for a full week and must have experienced nightmare transference.

Paranoia is like an itch. When you think about it it only gets worse. And even if you're scratching no itch you can still scratch right through the skin. But is there an evolutionary basis for its existence? The paranoid watchguard in the small nomadic group is going to be the one to catch sight of the tiger and let loose the warning call.

I have another friend who got an STD. He went to the doctor and got it treated and the doctor gave him the go ahead "you're all clear." But my friend didn't think he was all clear, not because there was an physical indication of lingering symptoms, but just because he had this uncanny feeling. He went back to another doctor and found his fears justified, there were still scant traces of the virus.

Managing Anxiety is important. But it's also something we shouldn't negate. If my friends in their apartment with the bugs weren't overly conscious their lives would have been further ruined. If my friend hadn't gone back for a second opinion he may have gone and infected other partners.

Paranoia is a disease, but is it a sometimes necessary one?