I did something when I was a child that even today brings tears to my eyes when I think about it:
I had a Polaroid camera. I got out of bed in the middle of the night, gathered my very favorite toys, including an airplane that my dad and I had made of wood, and three of my favorite stuffed animals.
I snuck down the hall to the bathroom and close the door. I turned on the light and each in turn, I set my toys on the toilet lid and took a photo of each one. If never occured to me until later in life why I did this. I kept it a secret from my parents for years.
I also had a recurring dream of losing my parents... well, not so much losing them as them leaving me. They were often leaving in a rocket ship with me at the base of it, not understanding, tears flowing...
The apocalyptic ones didn't really start until after I quit attending (or rather was forced to quit) meetings. That was an entirely new level of horror... waking nightmares, visions of fireballs raining from the sky. The earth opening beneath our feet...
God, I can't stay in this place. It's terribly depressing...