I Had To Secretly Throw Out Every Knife In My Home. It Took Years To Understand What Was Happening To Me.

The author feels content today.

A stranger at a party was telling me a story about his bike getting stolen, but all I could think about was the knife on the table behind him in my friend’s kitchen, where they’d been cutting limes for beers. It had been left on the cutting board and it terrified me. Even as a friend nudged me to pay attention, I couldn’t get past the potential weapon lurking over his shoulder.

Recently, I had developed an intense phobia of knives completely out of nowhere.