I've tried everything else so I guess I'll try this site. I've been reviewing it a lot and you all seem to be mindful and understanding. So Maybe you can help me in my current situation.
I don't really know how to describe what is happening to me. I know it's bad but at the same time its the safest I have ever felt in my whole life. We've just bought this amazing old house, the type that you think about when reading Victorian literature. Yet from the moment I crossed the threshold, things have been getting strange. So much for our fresh start.
The first sign was on the first night, I was lay in bed surrounded by boxes and got a strange sensation on my ear, like somebody was whispering to me but I couldn't hear anything. This continued for a few nights and I always put it down to my need to have the window open while I sleep.
As the days continued instead of exploring the wonderful village around the house or the forest nearby as I had planned. I found myself compelled to spend my days exploring the house alone, soon enough I knew the house like the back of my hand, I knew which floorboards creaked and which windows were likely to get stuck. Yet even though I knew so much about this house, I could not muster the power to leave it for long periods of time. Even the two minute walk to shop became a terrible thing to face, I was only happy in this strange house.
The first time I saw him or more realistically it. I found myself almost crying with the fear. Just a dull black shadow standing there watching me as I clung to my dirty clothes. It took me a week to dare go back into the cellar, I had to beg my brother to take my dirty clothes to the washing machine.
The shadow never left though, I'd see it in the corner of my eye or as I lay in bed. Just watching. It never made any move to harm me so soon I became almost attached to the shadow as I was to the house. At the time, I didn't realize I was becoming more reclusive. My family noticed, I've always been very outgoing so now that I find most comfort sat alone in an empty room of the house is worrying to them.
I'm a writer by nature, so I spend hours over a desk with a pen in hand or in front of a screen. But recently I've felt somebody reading every word I conjure up, even now as I type this I can feel the eyes watching and if I look through the corner of my eye to the reflection in the screen I can see it looming over me.
Normally I wouldn't write about any of this, I mean it's like my comfort blanket these days. Something that's always there when everything else is gone. But it's affecting my life now, I've become very short tempered with my family who I adore and find myself unable to speak to new people anymore. It's taken over my life, yet I'm unable to drag myself away from the strange comfort it gives my wounded soul. I'm nothing more than a puppet on a string and it's the puppet master. When I'm not near it I'm limp and useless, yet when I am I act strange.
Can anybody help? Has anybody felt anything similar? And why am I so attached to something that may be from my mind alone? Please help.