Got everything fixed, so I can update from home again.
My precious child and me ate popcorn and watched a movie on television. In fact, it was The Exorcist. She didn't like it. Said it should've been scarier.
Anyway, I promised to take her out to get ice cream tomorrow.
Who knew being a father was so much fun? (Though it'd be easier if I wasn't afraid I might just up and choke her at any given moment.)
She's started wanting me to put her hair into braids. How cute. (But what if I yank her hair hard enough to rip it out and she bleeds?)
I've already tucked her in and read her a bedtime story--Rumplestiltskin. Only, in this version, Rumplestiltskin succeeds in taking the baby. She insisted on that ending. Oh, he also eats the baby at the end. She thought that was the funniest thing. :)
Me going along with that so easily was...disheartening.
I wish I wasn't so worried all the time. Poor thing needs a father who isn't distracted by irrational fears.
Monday, April 30, 2012
I'm ready to kill
That little witch cut my phone line and smashed my cell phone! I'm having to access the Internet from the library.
How am going to make an appointment now?
Then again, if this is from a supernatural entity like the Plague Doctor, perhaps no one can help.
My throat is sore and I've been itching all over. My insides are roiling and I want to die!
More than just from this sickness. Even when my head is clear and I'm fully aware of what she is, my intrusive thoughts have been acting up, and I've been sweating a lot out of terror. I'm on the verge of tears.
How am going to make an appointment now?
Then again, if this is from a supernatural entity like the Plague Doctor, perhaps no one can help.
My throat is sore and I've been itching all over. My insides are roiling and I want to die!
More than just from this sickness. Even when my head is clear and I'm fully aware of what she is, my intrusive thoughts have been acting up, and I've been sweating a lot out of terror. I'm on the verge of tears.
A brighter day
I'm feeling better today.
I'm not sure if it was a dream, but last night I thought I woke up and saw shadows moving on the walls. The Dog barked for awhile and I think that scared them away.
Thinking back to my time at Shady Lawn has got me worrying that they might have injected me with something without my knowledge.
I think I should see a doctor. I'll be more careful this time, though.
I'm not sure if it was a dream, but last night I thought I woke up and saw shadows moving on the walls. The Dog barked for awhile and I think that scared them away.
Thinking back to my time at Shady Lawn has got me worrying that they might have injected me with something without my knowledge.
I think I should see a doctor. I'll be more careful this time, though.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Ugh
I ahve started coughing up blood. I think I'm sick with something. I feel terrible.
The Child acted all sweet and innocent all day. I hate her.
This is a short post because I;m going to lie down now,
The Child acted all sweet and innocent all day. I hate her.
This is a short post because I;m going to lie down now,
Saturday, April 28, 2012
What She Wants
So me and the Child went to an amusement park today called Funfunfun! (Yeah, lame, I know.)
We were having the time of our lives until I hit my head during one of those rides where you spin around really fast. I felt like I was going to lose my lunch. Anyway, that bump brought me out of my stupor.
My head clear, I demanded the Child explain to me what she wanted.
"Well, Mr. Wells (or should I say Niven?), I was intrigued by you. You know why?"
I didn't answer.
"Here's why: we're the same, you and me. I'm without a name; you're without a name, in a way. I become the focus of people's lives to the point where all they have is me; you were all your parents had. I betray them and leave, breaking their hearts, and they lose the will to live without me. They lose their purpose in life. You betrayed your parents, too, by abandoning them.
"Basically, you're my little experiment: I want to know what happens to someone when I do to them the same thing that they did to others. WHat happens when I target someone like me? It will be fun. It will be fascinating."
"Not sure how that will work out," I said. "I've been having intrusive thought problems again. Assuming you've read my blog you're well aware. What if I just up and decided to hurt you on purpose, while I'm still lucid? Not accidental thoughts, but intentional ones. No anxiety. What if I pull you out of the restraints and hurl you off this thing? What if I smashed your head into the side? I could, you know. I'm willing to go to a mental institution if it means the end of you, so long as that maniac Beakman doesn't work there," I said bitterly. Then added, "I've decided that my purpose in life is to destroy you, and the others like you. You won't take that from me. I won't let you."
She laughed. Not like a child laughs, but like an old woman, but still with a child's voice.
"Good luck with that. You will have succumbed to me soon enough."
Finally the ride stopped and we got off.
"I'm going home," I said.
Not surprisingly, she followed me.
Some kids we passed as we exited the park pointed and made jokes about how hideous the Child was. They stopped when they saw my look of anger, though it was not aimed at them. I made a sign to encourage them to continue.
This brat needs as many people as possible against her. She's an infernal, impish trap.
She's still here with me now. I wish she would leave me alone.
We were having the time of our lives until I hit my head during one of those rides where you spin around really fast. I felt like I was going to lose my lunch. Anyway, that bump brought me out of my stupor.
My head clear, I demanded the Child explain to me what she wanted.
"Well, Mr. Wells (or should I say Niven?), I was intrigued by you. You know why?"
I didn't answer.
"Here's why: we're the same, you and me. I'm without a name; you're without a name, in a way. I become the focus of people's lives to the point where all they have is me; you were all your parents had. I betray them and leave, breaking their hearts, and they lose the will to live without me. They lose their purpose in life. You betrayed your parents, too, by abandoning them.
"Basically, you're my little experiment: I want to know what happens to someone when I do to them the same thing that they did to others. WHat happens when I target someone like me? It will be fun. It will be fascinating."
"Not sure how that will work out," I said. "I've been having intrusive thought problems again. Assuming you've read my blog you're well aware. What if I just up and decided to hurt you on purpose, while I'm still lucid? Not accidental thoughts, but intentional ones. No anxiety. What if I pull you out of the restraints and hurl you off this thing? What if I smashed your head into the side? I could, you know. I'm willing to go to a mental institution if it means the end of you, so long as that maniac Beakman doesn't work there," I said bitterly. Then added, "I've decided that my purpose in life is to destroy you, and the others like you. You won't take that from me. I won't let you."
She laughed. Not like a child laughs, but like an old woman, but still with a child's voice.
"Good luck with that. You will have succumbed to me soon enough."
Finally the ride stopped and we got off.
"I'm going home," I said.
Not surprisingly, she followed me.
Some kids we passed as we exited the park pointed and made jokes about how hideous the Child was. They stopped when they saw my look of anger, though it was not aimed at them. I made a sign to encourage them to continue.
This brat needs as many people as possible against her. She's an infernal, impish trap.
She's still here with me now. I wish she would leave me alone.
A Fun Day
Today I awoke with that lovely child's dog at the foot of my bed. He enjoyed a tummy rub.
His eyes looked red for a second, though. I don't know if something's wrong with him, but it looked kinda cool, I guess.
Anyway, I woke up my little precious daughter and told her I would take her to an amusement park today. She was so excited! Her eyes lit up like a match!
So today should be a really fun day for the both of us! (As long as the thoughts aren't too bad. I already thought of smothering her with a pillow instead of waking her up. I know I would never do that, especially to a child. Damn OCD!)
Stay tuned for updates!
His eyes looked red for a second, though. I don't know if something's wrong with him, but it looked kinda cool, I guess.
Anyway, I woke up my little precious daughter and told her I would take her to an amusement park today. She was so excited! Her eyes lit up like a match!
So today should be a really fun day for the both of us! (As long as the thoughts aren't too bad. I already thought of smothering her with a pillow instead of waking her up. I know I would never do that, especially to a child. Damn OCD!)
Stay tuned for updates!
Friday, April 27, 2012
The Voice Returns
I tried to watch some TV today. That blasted Child just sat in the corner staring at me all day, smirking. She's even watching me now as I write this.
Today I saw her as being the ugly beast she is, but what of tomorrow?
The Voice spoke to me again.
It told me that I needed to have a set purpose, and to concentrate on that. That is apparently what she takes away, your sense of purpose. After, of course, destroying your life. With everything else gone, all you have is her.
As long as I hold onto my sense of purpose, I can remain strong against her. In fact, those were the final words of the Voice to me: "Stay strong."
Purpose. What purpose? What can be the purpose that I strive for and hold onto steadfastly against this demon?
I've got it: my purpose can be to destroy these things. (Even though they're already supposed to not exist.) I just have to figure out how.
I will stay strong. I will dusrtiurshiugohsiwj;elmfbjvgjzrhsd*gfhkrzjsdghhsghfjdk,jhfkwrkjthfkdjfghhi
erdysgfirhgy4lrflweiflrvblriblrblrevlirlksdnlseagd38yurthero87nsidjiufghs;eohvbldrihfwrtygh;onclkfg
vm efhhrf efh iryg hihrighiuergisufhoiuer89utp947ty735)))))))))))))))))))0
Today I saw her as being the ugly beast she is, but what of tomorrow?
The Voice spoke to me again.
It told me that I needed to have a set purpose, and to concentrate on that. That is apparently what she takes away, your sense of purpose. After, of course, destroying your life. With everything else gone, all you have is her.
As long as I hold onto my sense of purpose, I can remain strong against her. In fact, those were the final words of the Voice to me: "Stay strong."
Purpose. What purpose? What can be the purpose that I strive for and hold onto steadfastly against this demon?
I've got it: my purpose can be to destroy these things. (Even though they're already supposed to not exist.) I just have to figure out how.
I will stay strong. I will dusrtiurshiugohsiwj;elmfbjvgjzrhsd*gfhkrzjsdghhsghfjdk,jhfkwrkjthfkdjfghhi
erdysgfirhgy4lrflweiflrvblriblrblrevlirlksdnlseagd38yurthero87nsidjiufghs;eohvbldrihfwrtygh;onclkfg
vm efhhrf efh iryg hihrighiuergisufhoiuer89utp947ty735)))))))))))))))))))0
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Why!?!?!?
What the heck.
O_O
I woke up and found that stupid thing, the Unnamed Child, in my spare bedroom. How did she find me?
Looking at the last couple of posts I made yesterday, it appears that she has begun exerting her influence on me. (Not to mention the return of thought-related troubles. Never a good thing, even if it is toward this monster.)
Why me? What does she want?
It made sense for the Nightlanders to target me. But the Unnamed Child? I would've expected the Cold Boy or something, not the Unnamed Child.
I'm already alone. I have no one to be cut off from.
Why is she here?
Since I know about her and her MO, and since I know that she is supposed to be fictional (and perhaps me, too, but it sure doesn't feel like I'm fictional; then again, I suppose I wouldn't be able to tell), maybe I can resist her nefarious power.
O_O
I woke up and found that stupid thing, the Unnamed Child, in my spare bedroom. How did she find me?
Looking at the last couple of posts I made yesterday, it appears that she has begun exerting her influence on me. (Not to mention the return of thought-related troubles. Never a good thing, even if it is toward this monster.)
Why me? What does she want?
It made sense for the Nightlanders to target me. But the Unnamed Child? I would've expected the Cold Boy or something, not the Unnamed Child.
I'm already alone. I have no one to be cut off from.
Why is she here?
Since I know about her and her MO, and since I know that she is supposed to be fictional (and perhaps me, too, but it sure doesn't feel like I'm fictional; then again, I suppose I wouldn't be able to tell), maybe I can resist her nefarious power.
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
A Second Chance
Good news! That girl came to my house! (Though I don't know how she found it...)
She said she forgave me for pushing her, as long as I didn't do it again. I agreed, though I don't know if I can be certain of that, since I actively, intentionally hurt hurt her! I feel sick to my stomach.
She also said I should adopt her. I haven't had a child before, and this precious little girl is so sweet and doesn't have anywhere else to go, so I agreed to this also.
Did you know, she doesn't even have a name?
I don't know what I'll call her yet.
I just tucked her in a short time ago in the guest room. There's something bad, though. Aside from me acting out my fears. My intrusive thoughts in general are acting up more than they have been lately. I keep having ideas that I might harm her again, but worse. What if I kill her in her sleep via suffocation? Or what if she comes out in the middle of the night to get some water and I happen to be standing near the kitchen knives or something? It's tearing me up inside. I feel sick.
I just wanna cry. I feel so horrible. I just wanna die.
She said she forgave me for pushing her, as long as I didn't do it again. I agreed, though I don't know if I can be certain of that, since I actively, intentionally hurt hurt her! I feel sick to my stomach.
She also said I should adopt her. I haven't had a child before, and this precious little girl is so sweet and doesn't have anywhere else to go, so I agreed to this also.
Did you know, she doesn't even have a name?
I don't know what I'll call her yet.
I just tucked her in a short time ago in the guest room. There's something bad, though. Aside from me acting out my fears. My intrusive thoughts in general are acting up more than they have been lately. I keep having ideas that I might harm her again, but worse. What if I kill her in her sleep via suffocation? Or what if she comes out in the middle of the night to get some water and I happen to be standing near the kitchen knives or something? It's tearing me up inside. I feel sick.
I just wanna cry. I feel so horrible. I just wanna die.
I am a monster
I feel really bad. I hurt that beautiful little girl. I feel like a big jerk. The memory of her tears really tugs at my heart. Have my stressful thoughts been right all along!? I want to apologize. I just want to make her happy again.
Her
Something is starting to happen. I can feel it.
She showed up today.
I was taking a walk through the park when a large black labrador came at me. For obvious reasons, I was skittish, but the canine just stopped and sat in front of me, panting. Its eyes were normal.
As I relaxed, a little girl, about four or five, ran up to us.
"Oh, good!" she said. "My dog found you!"
When I looked at her, I saw her large, round eyes and curly brown hair. She was an adorable child.
Until I blinked.
When I opened my eyes again, her face didn't seem quite right.
I blinked again and she was a normal kid again.
Clearing my throat, I said, "This your dog?"
"Yep."
"What's his name?"
"He doesn't have a name. Like me."
I knew thenwho what this was--the Unnamed Child. I quickly walked away, leaving them behind.
I heard little footsteps race toward me.
"What's wrong, mister?"
I stopped in my tracks and turned. "I know what you are. Now get away from me and leave me alone!"
I continued, but she followed.
"I said stay away!" I shoved her to the ground, hard.
Tears appeared in her not-quite-right eyes and she started bawling at the top of her lungs.
Others came near, to see what the commotion was, but they hesitated at the sight of her. They apparently saw her as she really was.
I ran out of there as fast as I could and came home. I've looked out the window now and then to make sure she's not coming after me.
She showed up today.
I was taking a walk through the park when a large black labrador came at me. For obvious reasons, I was skittish, but the canine just stopped and sat in front of me, panting. Its eyes were normal.
As I relaxed, a little girl, about four or five, ran up to us.
"Oh, good!" she said. "My dog found you!"
When I looked at her, I saw her large, round eyes and curly brown hair. She was an adorable child.
Until I blinked.
When I opened my eyes again, her face didn't seem quite right.
I blinked again and she was a normal kid again.
Clearing my throat, I said, "This your dog?"
"Yep."
"What's his name?"
"He doesn't have a name. Like me."
I knew then
I heard little footsteps race toward me.
"What's wrong, mister?"
I stopped in my tracks and turned. "I know what you are. Now get away from me and leave me alone!"
I continued, but she followed.
"I said stay away!" I shoved her to the ground, hard.
Tears appeared in her not-quite-right eyes and she started bawling at the top of her lungs.
Others came near, to see what the commotion was, but they hesitated at the sight of her. They apparently saw her as she really was.
I ran out of there as fast as I could and came home. I've looked out the window now and then to make sure she's not coming after me.
Monday, April 23, 2012
...
I decided to do some more research on my recent experiences. It turns out there are other blogs. Lots of them. Nearly too many to ever wade through.
The clincher? They're all supposed to be fictional.
It turns out there's something called the Slender Man, who is a tall, faceless guy in a suit (sounds kind of silly, if you ask me), that someone made up on the Something Awful forums. People ran with the idea and began making all sorts of stories about him.
Some people got bored with this, thinking it was getting stale. So they made a spin-off "mythos" with other creatures. Other abominations.
I ended up going to the home page of that wiki, where it became clear all of this is fictional. These quotes make it obvious:
"The Fear Mythos is a spin-off of the Slender Man Mythos" How can real creatures be a "spin-off"? Then there's this: "If you wish to know more about the Fear Mythos or write for it, please visit the Fear Mythos forum."
"If you wish to write for it." These stories are made by writers.
That's when I found the Beginner's Guide to the Fear Mythos page, as well as the Blogs page, listing all the blogs.
Right there, listed under "Multi-Fear Blogs" was--Continuity Glue!!! It even has its own page, on which it says:
"Continuity Glue is a blog by The Nameless One (author). It follows an unnamed protagonist as he encounters Nightlanders and other Fears, which begins to drive him deeper into insanity."
According to the blasted Internet, my experiences, and possibly myself as well, don't exist.
This...just can't be.
You know what's even funnier? There's a character known as the Nameless One who is a servant to the Unnamed Child.
Insanity. Complete insanity.
The clincher? They're all supposed to be fictional.
It turns out there's something called the Slender Man, who is a tall, faceless guy in a suit (sounds kind of silly, if you ask me), that someone made up on the Something Awful forums. People ran with the idea and began making all sorts of stories about him.
Some people got bored with this, thinking it was getting stale. So they made a spin-off "mythos" with other creatures. Other abominations.
I ended up going to the home page of that wiki, where it became clear all of this is fictional. These quotes make it obvious:
"The Fear Mythos is a spin-off of the Slender Man Mythos" How can real creatures be a "spin-off"? Then there's this: "If you wish to know more about the Fear Mythos or write for it, please visit the Fear Mythos forum."
"If you wish to write for it." These stories are made by writers.
That's when I found the Beginner's Guide to the Fear Mythos page, as well as the Blogs page, listing all the blogs.
Right there, listed under "Multi-Fear Blogs" was--Continuity Glue!!! It even has its own page, on which it says:
"Continuity Glue is a blog by The Nameless One (author). It follows an unnamed protagonist as he encounters Nightlanders and other Fears, which begins to drive him deeper into insanity."
According to the blasted Internet, my experiences, and possibly myself as well, don't exist.
This...just can't be.
You know what's even funnier? There's a character known as the Nameless One who is a servant to the Unnamed Child.
Insanity. Complete insanity.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Nightmare
I had a dream last night.
I was walking through a terrible wasteland. Buildings were demolished. Dead bodies were strewn all over the place.
It was like the end of the world.
There was fire everywhere, and the sun was obscured by some sort of smog.
I went over to one body and turned it onto its back. I began to drag it toward some others. Once there was a sizable group of corpses, I began to put them in order.
I'm not sure how to describe it, but doing this seemed to greatly satisfy some hyper-sensitive OCD compulsion that was bothering me.
As I admired my handiwork, I heard a noise behind me. Turning, I saw that it was a teenager. She stared wide-eyed at the bodies at my feet.
"M-mom? Dad!?" She ran toward them, but stopped when she saw me.
"You are afraid, young one," I said. "Let me help you. Together we can bring order back to this world."
She backed away. "No!"
"But the Darkness would like to have you aboard. It took awhile for me, but I eventually saw the...uh...dark. That's all They wanted from me: cooperation. We can bring complete order to the world. If you're willing, more willing than I was, there will be no problem."
I advanced toward her, hand outstretched.
"Get away from me!" she screamed.
She turned to run, but I caught her. Placing my hands on either side of her head, I worked to rearrange her mind. But she was quite stubborn.
The change didn't go as planned. She convulsed and dropped to the pavement, dead.
As I walked back toward my macabre masterpiece, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a broken window.
My eye sockets were empty and black, save for a small point of light in each. And my skin--it was as though shadows were constantly contorting across it.
A black wave arose behind me and I greeted it cordially.
I was walking through a terrible wasteland. Buildings were demolished. Dead bodies were strewn all over the place.
It was like the end of the world.
There was fire everywhere, and the sun was obscured by some sort of smog.
I went over to one body and turned it onto its back. I began to drag it toward some others. Once there was a sizable group of corpses, I began to put them in order.
I'm not sure how to describe it, but doing this seemed to greatly satisfy some hyper-sensitive OCD compulsion that was bothering me.
As I admired my handiwork, I heard a noise behind me. Turning, I saw that it was a teenager. She stared wide-eyed at the bodies at my feet.
"M-mom? Dad!?" She ran toward them, but stopped when she saw me.
"You are afraid, young one," I said. "Let me help you. Together we can bring order back to this world."
She backed away. "No!"
"But the Darkness would like to have you aboard. It took awhile for me, but I eventually saw the...uh...dark. That's all They wanted from me: cooperation. We can bring complete order to the world. If you're willing, more willing than I was, there will be no problem."
I advanced toward her, hand outstretched.
"Get away from me!" she screamed.
She turned to run, but I caught her. Placing my hands on either side of her head, I worked to rearrange her mind. But she was quite stubborn.
The change didn't go as planned. She convulsed and dropped to the pavement, dead.
As I walked back toward my macabre masterpiece, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a broken window.
My eye sockets were empty and black, save for a small point of light in each. And my skin--it was as though shadows were constantly contorting across it.
A black wave arose behind me and I greeted it cordially.
Saturday, April 21, 2012
"Fears"
What in the name of all that is good and holy is going on?
I found a whole wiki about these things. I typed in the various things I've experienced and stuff on a search engine, like "Nightlander" (which term I got from Ontological), "Door", "City", "black dog", "man in bird mask", etc. It was on this last one that I found something of interest: the outfit of a medieval plague doctor. It looked just like that man I saw outside a while back. So I searched for "plague doctor". There was just stuff about the medieval plague doctors and costumes so people could dress up like them. Not much help.
Then I typed in "Dr. Beakman" and found a page on a wiki called "The Fear Mythos" mentioning Dr. Beakman and "the Plague Doctor" together. This looked somewhat promising, so I clicked on it. It turned out that this was indeed the Dr. Beakman who runs Shady Lawn. Apparently he's a Mad Doctor--a servant of the Plague Doctor. He apparently wouldn't let anyone leave because he loves performing various experiments.
I hope I didn't catch anything while there.
Anyway, these things are known as Fears. Nightlanders are the moving shadows plaguing me. The Doors lead to the Empty City, an ever-shifting eldritch location. The Black Dog hunts people down for some secret they keep hidden. I suppose my adventure as a boy may have made me feel guilty, knowing it was my fault, so I pretended it never happened. That could be why I'm a target there. The man who took my memories is known as the Blind Man. The Plague Doctor is all about spreading disease, which is why a single glance made my OCD skyrocket. The Convocation is made up of birds which can nest inside their servants. One such "Nest" is the man I found in the City. It is this "Nest" state which the Faceless Bastard was apparently referring to awhile back in his weird comment on "Here at Shady Lawn." In fact, his comment implies that he's...
Oh, dear God.
Many pages also lead to blogs, which I will read sometime.
There are many other Fears, it turns out, and I'm lucky not to have run into all of them. The ones I have are too much; I can't take it. Others include EAT (some watery thing), the Wooden Girl (who, it seems, controls people like puppets), the Cold Boy (who freezes people who are lonely; looks like I dodged a bullet there), the Unnamed Child (who ruins people's lives), and the Grotesque (who has something to do with dreams).
This all so insane. If so many have seen these creatures how come they're not common knowledge? Shouldn't the government be doing something about this? Instead, it's just confined to some blogs, it seems.
I found a whole wiki about these things. I typed in the various things I've experienced and stuff on a search engine, like "Nightlander" (which term I got from Ontological), "Door", "City", "black dog", "man in bird mask", etc. It was on this last one that I found something of interest: the outfit of a medieval plague doctor. It looked just like that man I saw outside a while back. So I searched for "plague doctor". There was just stuff about the medieval plague doctors and costumes so people could dress up like them. Not much help.
Then I typed in "Dr. Beakman" and found a page on a wiki called "The Fear Mythos" mentioning Dr. Beakman and "the Plague Doctor" together. This looked somewhat promising, so I clicked on it. It turned out that this was indeed the Dr. Beakman who runs Shady Lawn. Apparently he's a Mad Doctor--a servant of the Plague Doctor. He apparently wouldn't let anyone leave because he loves performing various experiments.
I hope I didn't catch anything while there.
Anyway, these things are known as Fears. Nightlanders are the moving shadows plaguing me. The Doors lead to the Empty City, an ever-shifting eldritch location. The Black Dog hunts people down for some secret they keep hidden. I suppose my adventure as a boy may have made me feel guilty, knowing it was my fault, so I pretended it never happened. That could be why I'm a target there. The man who took my memories is known as the Blind Man. The Plague Doctor is all about spreading disease, which is why a single glance made my OCD skyrocket. The Convocation is made up of birds which can nest inside their servants. One such "Nest" is the man I found in the City. It is this "Nest" state which the Faceless Bastard was apparently referring to awhile back in his weird comment on "Here at Shady Lawn." In fact, his comment implies that he's...
Oh, dear God.
Many pages also lead to blogs, which I will read sometime.
There are many other Fears, it turns out, and I'm lucky not to have run into all of them. The ones I have are too much; I can't take it. Others include EAT (some watery thing), the Wooden Girl (who, it seems, controls people like puppets), the Cold Boy (who freezes people who are lonely; looks like I dodged a bullet there), the Unnamed Child (who ruins people's lives), and the Grotesque (who has something to do with dreams).
This all so insane. If so many have seen these creatures how come they're not common knowledge? Shouldn't the government be doing something about this? Instead, it's just confined to some blogs, it seems.
Finished Ontological
I finally finished that blog I mentioned before, Ontological. It was interesting, and I could relate to some of the things that happened, but the way it ended...
The guy turned out to have been a "Nightlander" (living shadow) the whole time or something.
It was like one of those twist endings that are always in movies and Twilight Zone episodes, making me wonder if this story was actually fictional. However, the references to moving shadows, appearing Doors, and impossible cities makes me think it was at least partially based on reality.
I don't know.
I thought about what happened to me at Shady Lawn and during the escape. And the way I was so willing to sneak around the place to find an exit. That sounds like the old me, before I lost everything; before I lost my family, my courage, my childhood. I don't know what's happening to me, but I think it could be something good. Maybe.
The guy turned out to have been a "Nightlander" (living shadow) the whole time or something.
It was like one of those twist endings that are always in movies and Twilight Zone episodes, making me wonder if this story was actually fictional. However, the references to moving shadows, appearing Doors, and impossible cities makes me think it was at least partially based on reality.
I don't know.
I thought about what happened to me at Shady Lawn and during the escape. And the way I was so willing to sneak around the place to find an exit. That sounds like the old me, before I lost everything; before I lost my family, my courage, my childhood. I don't know what's happening to me, but I think it could be something good. Maybe.
Continuing the Story
That time stamp. What? It says my last post went up like two minutes after the previous one, even though my time in the electroshock room was at least 20 minutes, including the time it took to be brought in. And the City...I was in there for at least a day.
Time...what is time? It makes no sense now...
Anyway, after I entered the Door I found myself on top of a building. I nearly died by stepping off the edge by mistake. In fact, I did step off the edge. I just happened to suddenly find myself in a stagnant swimming pool in the backyard of a worn-down, abandoned house.
Spitting leaves from my mouth, I climbed out and looked around. No birds. No bugs. No people. Nothing. Nothing at all.
I decided to check out the house. It was boarded up, so I had a time of tearing some of them free from the back door. Inside were just piles of dust. No furniture. No signs at all that anyone had ever lived there. I slept awhile. Exhaustion makes you accept any bed you're offered.
When I awoke, the Voice returned. "Go back into the water. It's the only way you can ever find your way out."
I was puzzled, but this Voice had been right before, so I went outside and dived back in.
And I dived in. And I dived in. And I dived in. I thought I would be stuck like this forever. Was this some kind of purgatory?
At last I found myself running down a long street between two high buildings. When I reached the halfway point, I found myself face to face with someone I hadn't seen until I was almost upon him.
He stared me in the eyes, but seemed not to be addressing me. "The Bright Ones will not be pleased!" he cried. "The Bright Ones will NOT BE PLEASED!!!"
Then, before I could say anything, he took out a knife and drew it across his neck.
I winced. "No!" I wanted to shout, but it stuck in my throat.
His head flopped backward, the cut having been deep enough that he was almost decapitated. He fell backward to the ground, motionless. Curiously, there was no blood from the wound.
I felt sick to my stomach as his skin began to writhe in unnatural undulating movements. A beak poked out of the hole. Then some feathers. Soon, an entire bird, some kind of large crow, emerged, followed quickly by dozens of others.
I was frozen in shock. This unimaginable gathering of birds had just flown out of a dead man's body, like Pegasus from Medusa. As they flew, a dark cloud without rain moving over the city, they screeched so loud I had to plug my ears with my fingers as deep as they would go.
I had pushed too far in. My ears began to bleed. As I recovered my bearings and turned to finish the journey down this dismal road, I saw that it was now a dead end where before it had been open.
"Follow the birds," said a familiar voice. It was mine. I was standing there before me. But the other me had dirty, damaged clothes.
"Follow the birds," he (I) said again, this time more sternly. "Hurry!"
Trusting that myself was a worthy guide, I did as I was told and followed the birds. They had gone over one of the buildings, but there was a door that I was able to enter. I ran through the empty building to the other side, where a wall had been knocked down.
From there I was able to follow the screeching birds (fortunately they were far enough away that their shrieks did not cause pain, yet close enough to see) through the streets for awhile. I think I could see flashes of lightning from time to time. After what seemed like hours, and being close to losing sight of the winged monstrosities, I saw another Door. I opened it and stepped through.
I was in an elevator which seemed to be racing to the top of some skyscraper, the cables whining under the strain. Then, the elevator froze.
Before I knew what was happening, it began to plummet back down in a free fall. I knew then that I was going to die. However, in the free fall, I was weightless, like floating in space. A Door appeared in the middle of the ceiling, where the hatch would be. I reached upward and grabbed the knob. I turned it, opened it, and pushed myself through. As the Door closedbehind under me, I could hear the tremendous crash that I had barely escaped.
I found myself in the middle of a sidewalk, with the birds in sight again. I continued following them until a rather tall Door stood before me and the birds. I went through after them, but when I emerged I was in my bedroom again, the birds nowhere around.
After cleaning myself up and trying to process what had happened, I wrote down the previous post.
That electroshock doohickey was something else, though. My head's better now, but that feeling sure lasted awhile. I hope there's no permanent damage.
Time...what is time? It makes no sense now...
Anyway, after I entered the Door I found myself on top of a building. I nearly died by stepping off the edge by mistake. In fact, I did step off the edge. I just happened to suddenly find myself in a stagnant swimming pool in the backyard of a worn-down, abandoned house.
Spitting leaves from my mouth, I climbed out and looked around. No birds. No bugs. No people. Nothing. Nothing at all.
I decided to check out the house. It was boarded up, so I had a time of tearing some of them free from the back door. Inside were just piles of dust. No furniture. No signs at all that anyone had ever lived there. I slept awhile. Exhaustion makes you accept any bed you're offered.
When I awoke, the Voice returned. "Go back into the water. It's the only way you can ever find your way out."
I was puzzled, but this Voice had been right before, so I went outside and dived back in.
And I dived in. And I dived in. And I dived in. I thought I would be stuck like this forever. Was this some kind of purgatory?
At last I found myself running down a long street between two high buildings. When I reached the halfway point, I found myself face to face with someone I hadn't seen until I was almost upon him.
He stared me in the eyes, but seemed not to be addressing me. "The Bright Ones will not be pleased!" he cried. "The Bright Ones will NOT BE PLEASED!!!"
Then, before I could say anything, he took out a knife and drew it across his neck.
I winced. "No!" I wanted to shout, but it stuck in my throat.
His head flopped backward, the cut having been deep enough that he was almost decapitated. He fell backward to the ground, motionless. Curiously, there was no blood from the wound.
I felt sick to my stomach as his skin began to writhe in unnatural undulating movements. A beak poked out of the hole. Then some feathers. Soon, an entire bird, some kind of large crow, emerged, followed quickly by dozens of others.
I was frozen in shock. This unimaginable gathering of birds had just flown out of a dead man's body, like Pegasus from Medusa. As they flew, a dark cloud without rain moving over the city, they screeched so loud I had to plug my ears with my fingers as deep as they would go.
I had pushed too far in. My ears began to bleed. As I recovered my bearings and turned to finish the journey down this dismal road, I saw that it was now a dead end where before it had been open.
"Follow the birds," said a familiar voice. It was mine. I was standing there before me. But the other me had dirty, damaged clothes.
"Follow the birds," he (I) said again, this time more sternly. "Hurry!"
Trusting that myself was a worthy guide, I did as I was told and followed the birds. They had gone over one of the buildings, but there was a door that I was able to enter. I ran through the empty building to the other side, where a wall had been knocked down.
From there I was able to follow the screeching birds (fortunately they were far enough away that their shrieks did not cause pain, yet close enough to see) through the streets for awhile. I think I could see flashes of lightning from time to time. After what seemed like hours, and being close to losing sight of the winged monstrosities, I saw another Door. I opened it and stepped through.
I was in an elevator which seemed to be racing to the top of some skyscraper, the cables whining under the strain. Then, the elevator froze.
Before I knew what was happening, it began to plummet back down in a free fall. I knew then that I was going to die. However, in the free fall, I was weightless, like floating in space. A Door appeared in the middle of the ceiling, where the hatch would be. I reached upward and grabbed the knob. I turned it, opened it, and pushed myself through. As the Door closed
I found myself in the middle of a sidewalk, with the birds in sight again. I continued following them until a rather tall Door stood before me and the birds. I went through after them, but when I emerged I was in my bedroom again, the birds nowhere around.
After cleaning myself up and trying to process what had happened, I wrote down the previous post.
That electroshock doohickey was something else, though. My head's better now, but that feeling sure lasted awhile. I hope there's no permanent damage.
Friday, April 20, 2012
Incredible
Oh, my head...
Well, I'm free. Somehow.
Okay, I know how. I just can't believe it. Dr. Beakman didn't like the fact that I'd only been pretending to take my meds. And that I knew the things that he insisted weren't real indeed were. And the fact that I was trying to escape.
So, he and some assistants took me into a back room and strapped me onto a table. From there, they proceeded to put something on my head. They shoved something into my mouth and made me bite down on it. They then began giving me intense electroshock therapy.
It hurt worse than you could ever imagine. And there was nothing I could do. I knew this bastard was going to kill me.
Then the room went dark.
I heard some yelling and saw some swiftly moving specks of light. It was the Shadow People. They were apparently protecting me for some reason. I felt my wrists and ankles freed and my adrenaline was pumping. I tore the headgear off and ran. But a Door appeared in my path.
Stopping, I turned around.
I saw some flashing bands of light and the room returned to normal. The Shadows had failed--they were contained.
"Thank God for the Archive," said Beakman.
He and the others turned toward me.
"Your little friend is an agent of the Archive. He told us everything."
I ran to the door, but it was locked. I knew it was foolish. I knew I could be lost forever, like that family I read about before, but it was my only option. It was my only possible means of escape.
I went through the Door.
My headache is getting worse again. I'll continue this story later.
Well, I'm free. Somehow.
Okay, I know how. I just can't believe it. Dr. Beakman didn't like the fact that I'd only been pretending to take my meds. And that I knew the things that he insisted weren't real indeed were. And the fact that I was trying to escape.
So, he and some assistants took me into a back room and strapped me onto a table. From there, they proceeded to put something on my head. They shoved something into my mouth and made me bite down on it. They then began giving me intense electroshock therapy.
It hurt worse than you could ever imagine. And there was nothing I could do. I knew this bastard was going to kill me.
Then the room went dark.
I heard some yelling and saw some swiftly moving specks of light. It was the Shadow People. They were apparently protecting me for some reason. I felt my wrists and ankles freed and my adrenaline was pumping. I tore the headgear off and ran. But a Door appeared in my path.
Stopping, I turned around.
I saw some flashing bands of light and the room returned to normal. The Shadows had failed--they were contained.
"Thank God for the Archive," said Beakman.
He and the others turned toward me.
"Your little friend is an agent of the Archive. He told us everything."
I ran to the door, but it was locked. I knew it was foolish. I knew I could be lost forever, like that family I read about before, but it was my only option. It was my only possible means of escape.
I went through the Door.
My headache is getting worse again. I'll continue this story later.
Strange Post
Wow. I have no idea what they did to me there. It must have been some extra strong drugs or something. They've worn off now, though.
If I don't trust the doctor, I won't get better.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
If I don't trust the doctor, I won't get better.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
Dr. Beakman serves God. I will trust in him.
If I don't trust the doctor, I won't get better.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
A Discovery
I have a headache. My face is all scrunched up in confusion. I don't understand.
That new friend of mine showed me some drawings today. He's a pretty good artist.
To my surprise, the drawings looked just like the man and woman from that first dream about the dog I told you about. He says being one of the Gifted means that Grandfather took your childhood, but gave you the childhood memories of someone else.
He remembers the childhood of someone named Christopher (the same name as me) Niven, who was an only child. His parents loved him and spent as much time as possible with him. They spoiled him. He was the center of their lives.
Until the day he ran away. The boy ran because he wanted to see what the rest of the world was like. He was adventurous and curious and didn't think or care about how this affected his parents. He wandered around for some days or weeks (my friend says the memories have faded a bit) and was finally picked up by a police car. The boy had been in the woods the whole time.
He couldn't go back to his parents--they were dead. While looking for him, his mother had tripped and fallen, landing where a sharp branch was sticking up, impaling her eye and going into her brain. She died instantly.
The father was at home at the time, working to fix his chainsaw which could be used to clear a lot of the fallen trees and branches and brush and undergrowth to move through the woods more easily. However, there was an accident. Somehow the thing was turned on and bounced up, severing his left arm. By the time paramedics arrived and rushed him to the ER, he had lost too much blood.
That new friend of mine showed me some drawings today. He's a pretty good artist.
To my surprise, the drawings looked just like the man and woman from that first dream about the dog I told you about. He says being one of the Gifted means that Grandfather took your childhood, but gave you the childhood memories of someone else.
He remembers the childhood of someone named Christopher (the same name as me) Niven, who was an only child. His parents loved him and spent as much time as possible with him. They spoiled him. He was the center of their lives.
Until the day he ran away. The boy ran because he wanted to see what the rest of the world was like. He was adventurous and curious and didn't think or care about how this affected his parents. He wandered around for some days or weeks (my friend says the memories have faded a bit) and was finally picked up by a police car. The boy had been in the woods the whole time.
He couldn't go back to his parents--they were dead. While looking for him, his mother had tripped and fallen, landing where a sharp branch was sticking up, impaling her eye and going into her brain. She died instantly.
The father was at home at the time, working to fix his chainsaw which could be used to clear a lot of the fallen trees and branches and brush and undergrowth to move through the woods more easily. However, there was an accident. Somehow the thing was turned on and bounced up, severing his left arm. By the time paramedics arrived and rushed him to the ER, he had lost too much blood.
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Dr. Beakman Reads my Blog! :)
After my outburst in response to Faceless on the last post, Beakman said he was disappointed in me, and that I was regressing back into my delusions. I'm alright now, though. I've calmed down.
I was just so angry at him (me?) and didn't like being accused of something I didn't do. Unless I did it...
Dr. Beakman says it's better for me not to think about it. It's an obstacle that I need to get past if I'm to get better.
I think I might ignore future comments from my other personalities. It's probably not good for me to keep getting into arguments with myself.
I was just so angry at him (me?) and didn't like being accused of something I didn't do. Unless I did it...
Dr. Beakman says it's better for me not to think about it. It's an obstacle that I need to get past if I'm to get better.
I think I might ignore future comments from my other personalities. It's probably not good for me to keep getting into arguments with myself.
I'm confused
I have had no more problems with the things my mind conjured up, which is good, but today I was talking to someone in the recreation room and he said something that confuses me.
He told me he lost the memories of his childhood to a blind old man who asked him his name and wrote it in his book. That sounds eerily similar to my background. I never told him about that, though. In fact, today's the first day I met him.
He calls the man Grandfather for some reason and seems excited to have had his childhood ripped away from him. He says he's "Gifted" or something, whatever that means. Anyway, Grandfather sounds like that guy I met as a teenager, which bothers me. But if I don't trust the doctor, I won't get better. Must be some coincidence.
That "Faceless Bastard" commented again, saying he was indeed me. I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. He said some really bizarre things, too.
I don't know what to make of all this.
He told me he lost the memories of his childhood to a blind old man who asked him his name and wrote it in his book. That sounds eerily similar to my background. I never told him about that, though. In fact, today's the first day I met him.
He calls the man Grandfather for some reason and seems excited to have had his childhood ripped away from him. He says he's "Gifted" or something, whatever that means. Anyway, Grandfather sounds like that guy I met as a teenager, which bothers me. But if I don't trust the doctor, I won't get better. Must be some coincidence.
That "Faceless Bastard" commented again, saying he was indeed me. I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. He said some really bizarre things, too.
I don't know what to make of all this.
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Here at Shady Lawn
Sorry I haven't updated in a few days, but I've been getting adjusted to life here in Shady Lawn. Dr. Beakman said that after my first dose of medication I was already doing better. I haven't seen any silliness like moving shadows or doors by themselves anymore. That voice is gone, too.
Shady Lawn is the best thing that's happened to me in these last couple months.
I have had a few nightmares still, but if I don't trust the doctor I won't get better. I've made a lot of progress. Beakman says the nightmares will go away soon.
Oh, I almost forgot: Dr. Beakman also says that those commenters on the post "An Explanation" believed me so readily because they were really me under other names. I guess that makes sense, but I don't understand why I would try to undermine my own safety. Also, I apparently posted as one of them again on "Good News." I guess I was really messed up in the head.
Thank God for Dr. Beakman.
Shady Lawn is the best thing that's happened to me in these last couple months.
I have had a few nightmares still, but if I don't trust the doctor I won't get better. I've made a lot of progress. Beakman says the nightmares will go away soon.
Oh, I almost forgot: Dr. Beakman also says that those commenters on the post "An Explanation" believed me so readily because they were really me under other names. I guess that makes sense, but I don't understand why I would try to undermine my own safety. Also, I apparently posted as one of them again on "Good News." I guess I was really messed up in the head.
Thank God for Dr. Beakman.
Friday, April 13, 2012
Stupid Shadows
Stop posting on my blog!!!
This time their hidden text said, "Don't seek aid / it'll only ruin you / once contact is made / it's all over for you."
What is THAT supposed to mean? Perhaps my subconscious is telling me not to get help. I know there are unexplained things, but if I'm halucinating, my perception could easily be skewed. I think I've been imagining all these things. Maybe it's connected with my amnesia. Maybe something terrible happened then that's coming back to haunt me now, or maybe I've always had some mental problem and it caused the amnesia and now these apparent hallucinations.
They can't be real. They just can't be. Living shadows? Doors connected to nothing which lead to some abandoned city? Being watched by a man in a bird mask? Dreams of some horrible dog like Cujo? A Voice telling me how to cope? These aren't natural things!
And a commenter says I'm screwed, whatever that might be referring to. And good luck. Maybe he was wishing me luck on my recovery? Because I'm already screwed up. I don't know.
By the way, the case of my sister's murder has gone cold. There are no new leads. I hope the police don't read this blog, but if they do, I won't be surprised when they come for me.
Anyway, my appointment with Dr. Beakman at Shady Lawn is this afternoon at 3:00. I'll update you on how it goes.
This time their hidden text said, "Don't seek aid / it'll only ruin you / once contact is made / it's all over for you."
What is THAT supposed to mean? Perhaps my subconscious is telling me not to get help. I know there are unexplained things, but if I'm halucinating, my perception could easily be skewed. I think I've been imagining all these things. Maybe it's connected with my amnesia. Maybe something terrible happened then that's coming back to haunt me now, or maybe I've always had some mental problem and it caused the amnesia and now these apparent hallucinations.
They can't be real. They just can't be. Living shadows? Doors connected to nothing which lead to some abandoned city? Being watched by a man in a bird mask? Dreams of some horrible dog like Cujo? A Voice telling me how to cope? These aren't natural things!
And a commenter says I'm screwed, whatever that might be referring to. And good luck. Maybe he was wishing me luck on my recovery? Because I'm already screwed up. I don't know.
By the way, the case of my sister's murder has gone cold. There are no new leads. I hope the police don't read this blog, but if they do, I won't be surprised when they come for me.
Anyway, my appointment with Dr. Beakman at Shady Lawn is this afternoon at 3:00. I'll update you on how it goes.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Good News
I've finally found a psychiatrist willing to meet with me. A Dr. Beakman. He actually contacted me, since I never saw a listing for him in the phone book or online. Don't know how he knew I was trying to find a psychiatrist. Anyway, so things are looking up. I can find out once and for all if what I've been experiencing are hallucinations or not.
For some reason, though, he doesn't want to meet in an office, but some mental hospital. He e-mailed me directions to get there. This makes me worry, as I wonder if my problems are bad enough to warrant a stay in such an institution. Oh, well. I guess I'll find out tomorrow.
No more messages from that Voice in my head.
I'm still worried about my sister's death, though. I know I could never do such a thing, and the Voice said I didn't do it, yet it matched exactly one of my inadvertent thoughts. It's all too surreal.
For some reason, though, he doesn't want to meet in an office, but some mental hospital. He e-mailed me directions to get there. This makes me worry, as I wonder if my problems are bad enough to warrant a stay in such an institution. Oh, well. I guess I'll find out tomorrow.
No more messages from that Voice in my head.
I'm still worried about my sister's death, though. I know I could never do such a thing, and the Voice said I didn't do it, yet it matched exactly one of my inadvertent thoughts. It's all too surreal.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Bad News
I haven't been able to make an appointment today. None of the psychiatrists in the area are taking new patients at this time.
What do I do?
What do I do?
A Voice in my Head
I think I'll call a psychiatrist today.
A short time ago, my intrusive thoughts were getting the better of me again (the recent nightmares haven't helped); I was shaking and sweating. I nearly convinced myself I caused my sister's death, even though there is no evidence of it. I kept thinking I might hurt other people, like maybe my old boss and coworkers at the bookstore.
Then a Voice entered my mind.
"Stop worrying," it said. "There is no need to fear. You have done nothing wrong. The Shadows do not have your best interests in mind. They are trying to keep you afraid, under their control. They want you to do what they will. They want you to resist any changes; that's why they mete out such harsh punishments, like your sister's death. They want you to continue in your usual routine. Forever. Quitting work and disobeying their warnings to stay away from Doors warranted, in their minds, a powerful and effective discipline that would scare you back to normalcy. None of what they have striven for has worked; it has only made you change parts of your routine, such as the aforementioned leave of your job and longer bouts of depression and grieving. And Others are starting to show up.
"You must fight them at every turn. This is a war first and foremost for your mind. To start with, you need to relax. Concentrate on relaxing. Relax all the muscles in your body, one at a time. Whenever you become aware of a thought of a distressing sort entering your mind, blinking several times may distract your mind long enough until it passes. If this is not enough, do your best to clear your mind. Distract yourself. And whatever you do, don't hold your breath. Breathe steadily. Holding it in as a nervous reaction undermines everything else.
"Do not be afraid of these entities. They only exist because of people's fears. They are ancient, even more ancient than man, for even beasts have been afraid of some of the same things as man. And they will exist as long as there are creatures who feel fear. Without fear, They have nothing to work with, nothing to torment you with. You must become stronger.
"You can fight them. It certainly will not be easy, and you may yet see death, but being fearless is your only possible defense. Remember, I am here to help you."
I tried the techniques outlined by this voice, and they actually helped a great deal. I felt...overjoyed, even excited. A GOOD excitement for once.
I want to see a psychiatrist, though, because even though it helped, this Voice may be another hallucination. I want to know what a psychiatrist might have to say.
A short time ago, my intrusive thoughts were getting the better of me again (the recent nightmares haven't helped); I was shaking and sweating. I nearly convinced myself I caused my sister's death, even though there is no evidence of it. I kept thinking I might hurt other people, like maybe my old boss and coworkers at the bookstore.
Then a Voice entered my mind.
"Stop worrying," it said. "There is no need to fear. You have done nothing wrong. The Shadows do not have your best interests in mind. They are trying to keep you afraid, under their control. They want you to do what they will. They want you to resist any changes; that's why they mete out such harsh punishments, like your sister's death. They want you to continue in your usual routine. Forever. Quitting work and disobeying their warnings to stay away from Doors warranted, in their minds, a powerful and effective discipline that would scare you back to normalcy. None of what they have striven for has worked; it has only made you change parts of your routine, such as the aforementioned leave of your job and longer bouts of depression and grieving. And Others are starting to show up.
"You must fight them at every turn. This is a war first and foremost for your mind. To start with, you need to relax. Concentrate on relaxing. Relax all the muscles in your body, one at a time. Whenever you become aware of a thought of a distressing sort entering your mind, blinking several times may distract your mind long enough until it passes. If this is not enough, do your best to clear your mind. Distract yourself. And whatever you do, don't hold your breath. Breathe steadily. Holding it in as a nervous reaction undermines everything else.
"Do not be afraid of these entities. They only exist because of people's fears. They are ancient, even more ancient than man, for even beasts have been afraid of some of the same things as man. And they will exist as long as there are creatures who feel fear. Without fear, They have nothing to work with, nothing to torment you with. You must become stronger.
"You can fight them. It certainly will not be easy, and you may yet see death, but being fearless is your only possible defense. Remember, I am here to help you."
I tried the techniques outlined by this voice, and they actually helped a great deal. I felt...overjoyed, even excited. A GOOD excitement for once.
I want to see a psychiatrist, though, because even though it helped, this Voice may be another hallucination. I want to know what a psychiatrist might have to say.
Monday, April 9, 2012
need to get things off my chest
I still feel horrible about my sister's death. There isn't going to be a funeral until the investigation is done. In the meantime, I've decided to take my mind off things by getting some things off my chest. I haven't been entirely honest with you.
First of all, that dream I had. That black dog...was somehow familiar to me. I didn't say anything yesterday because it seemed like if I admitted to knowing that dog in some way, some negativity would come of it. Like you would become suspicious of me.
I don't know why.
Well, in addition to this, I was an orphan throughout my childhood. At least, I believe so. I can't remember anything before the age of 13, at which time I had recently been adopted from an orphanage. That's right, my sister wasn't really my sister and my surname isn't my real surname. I don't know my proper last name.
Part of the reason I chose the moniker "The Nameless One," I suppose.
One time at the local library a couple years later I saw an old man wearing sunglasses. He asked me to sign his book. I thought maybe he's mentally ill and having people sign his book is some sort of meaningful thing to him. Maybe he thought I was a celebrity. In any case, I signed that book. And that's when my amnesia began.
If that dog was part of my past, it must have been during my childhood, in one of the memories I don't have anymore.
If these things I've been seeing are real, what do they want with me? And if they're not...should I see a psychologist? What do you readers (if there are any) think?
I don't know what to do. And I have no one to lean on in this time of need.
I feel cold.
First of all, that dream I had. That black dog...was somehow familiar to me. I didn't say anything yesterday because it seemed like if I admitted to knowing that dog in some way, some negativity would come of it. Like you would become suspicious of me.
I don't know why.
Well, in addition to this, I was an orphan throughout my childhood. At least, I believe so. I can't remember anything before the age of 13, at which time I had recently been adopted from an orphanage. That's right, my sister wasn't really my sister and my surname isn't my real surname. I don't know my proper last name.
Part of the reason I chose the moniker "The Nameless One," I suppose.
One time at the local library a couple years later I saw an old man wearing sunglasses. He asked me to sign his book. I thought maybe he's mentally ill and having people sign his book is some sort of meaningful thing to him. Maybe he thought I was a celebrity. In any case, I signed that book. And that's when my amnesia began.
If that dog was part of my past, it must have been during my childhood, in one of the memories I don't have anymore.
If these things I've been seeing are real, what do they want with me? And if they're not...should I see a psychologist? What do you readers (if there are any) think?
I don't know what to do. And I have no one to lean on in this time of need.
I feel cold.
Sunday, April 8, 2012
nothing is helping
Read more Lovecraft. Alien geometries and incomprehensible cities eerily remind me of what I saw through that door. I hope Lovecraft wasn't actually on to anything. That would make things worse.
I saw the shadows again today. Don't know if that's a good thing. If I'm hallucinating, this terrifies me and means I probably committed the murder. If they are real, then either they committed the murder or manipulated me into doing so.
None of these scenarios is soothing to my psyche.
Earlier I took a nap and had a terrible dream.
In this dream, or rather, nightmare, horrible things happened. It was night. In a forest. Someone was running. From what, I didn't know. Then over the hill came a black smoky...thing. But as it came nearer, it was clear that it was a large dog. With red, glowing eyes.
It was chasing the woman, who was exhausted. She turned around, and was holding a sharp branch she must have found lying in the underbrush. As the canine from hell approached, she jabbed the thing as far as she could into its left eye.
After she got up and continued running, I saw it turn its gaze to me. Blood pouring like a faucet from the wound, it took a few steps toward me. When it got near enough, it raised a paw and moved it toward my face; I was frozen with fear.
Then to my utter shock and horror, it began...absorbing my left eye into its paw. I screamed at the unbearable pain. Moments later, I watched, still shaking and screaming, as the branch was pushed from the eye socket and a new eye appeared--my eye.
Blood soaked my face and I began to fall into a catatonic state.
That's when the scene changed. We were in a house, that infernal dog and me. Its eyes looked normal again (well, as normal as glowing red eyes can be), and my pain was gone. I reached up to feel, and my hand came away clean; my eye was back in place!
My joy was not to last, however.
I heard a buzzing motor, and I saw someone wielding a chainsaw. He came at the dog, who was undeterred. It didn't even blink. Then it leapt at the man. The whirring blade sliced through the dog's back right leg like it was butter. It flopped to the ground, unbalanced.
The man made several other cuts to the beast, then got out of there quick as he could. The thing lunged at me again, this time pressing its stump against my left arm.
It took my arm. It was there, where the back leg should have been. A left arm for a back right leg. A human arm on a dog. It used its replacement limb and dashed after the man. Last I saw of it, all its cuts had healed.
I just sat there, bleeding and in pain.
Awhile later, I heard some noises and I was no longer alone.
It was the dog. It came at me, looking rabid, its red eyes staring into my soul. It rushed forward, growling, teeth ready to take a big bite. Before it reached me, however, everything went black.
I woke up on the couch, in intense pain. I was soaked--in sweat and blood. My left eye and left arm were missing, I was bleeding everywhere, visions of that creature kept flashing in my mind. I screamed like I have never screamed in my life.
Then finally, mercifully, I awoke for real.
This dream does not help me feel better either.
I am completely nuts. And I'm dangerous. I should probably check into a mental hospital.
Some Easter this has turned out to be.
I saw the shadows again today. Don't know if that's a good thing. If I'm hallucinating, this terrifies me and means I probably committed the murder. If they are real, then either they committed the murder or manipulated me into doing so.
None of these scenarios is soothing to my psyche.
Earlier I took a nap and had a terrible dream.
In this dream, or rather, nightmare, horrible things happened. It was night. In a forest. Someone was running. From what, I didn't know. Then over the hill came a black smoky...thing. But as it came nearer, it was clear that it was a large dog. With red, glowing eyes.
It was chasing the woman, who was exhausted. She turned around, and was holding a sharp branch she must have found lying in the underbrush. As the canine from hell approached, she jabbed the thing as far as she could into its left eye.
After she got up and continued running, I saw it turn its gaze to me. Blood pouring like a faucet from the wound, it took a few steps toward me. When it got near enough, it raised a paw and moved it toward my face; I was frozen with fear.
Then to my utter shock and horror, it began...absorbing my left eye into its paw. I screamed at the unbearable pain. Moments later, I watched, still shaking and screaming, as the branch was pushed from the eye socket and a new eye appeared--my eye.
Blood soaked my face and I began to fall into a catatonic state.
That's when the scene changed. We were in a house, that infernal dog and me. Its eyes looked normal again (well, as normal as glowing red eyes can be), and my pain was gone. I reached up to feel, and my hand came away clean; my eye was back in place!
My joy was not to last, however.
I heard a buzzing motor, and I saw someone wielding a chainsaw. He came at the dog, who was undeterred. It didn't even blink. Then it leapt at the man. The whirring blade sliced through the dog's back right leg like it was butter. It flopped to the ground, unbalanced.
The man made several other cuts to the beast, then got out of there quick as he could. The thing lunged at me again, this time pressing its stump against my left arm.
It took my arm. It was there, where the back leg should have been. A left arm for a back right leg. A human arm on a dog. It used its replacement limb and dashed after the man. Last I saw of it, all its cuts had healed.
I just sat there, bleeding and in pain.
Awhile later, I heard some noises and I was no longer alone.
It was the dog. It came at me, looking rabid, its red eyes staring into my soul. It rushed forward, growling, teeth ready to take a big bite. Before it reached me, however, everything went black.
I woke up on the couch, in intense pain. I was soaked--in sweat and blood. My left eye and left arm were missing, I was bleeding everywhere, visions of that creature kept flashing in my mind. I screamed like I have never screamed in my life.
Then finally, mercifully, I awoke for real.
This dream does not help me feel better either.
I am completely nuts. And I'm dangerous. I should probably check into a mental hospital.
Some Easter this has turned out to be.
Friday, April 6, 2012
What now!?
Today nothing of note happened.
Except, I think I saw a man standing in my front yard, wearing a bird mask and a black overcoat.
After that I felt I had to wash my hands. More thoroughly than usual. More times than usual. I kept scrubbing and scrubbing for nearly an hour, harder, harder, harder!
My hands bled until they were completely covered and I started crying. It felt like I would never succeed in cleaning my hands.
Eventually I could take it no longer and fell to the floor, curled up in a ball.
I woke up a few minutes ago and bandaged my fingers and decided to write this down.
I think I'm starting to hallucinate again.
Except, I think I saw a man standing in my front yard, wearing a bird mask and a black overcoat.
After that I felt I had to wash my hands. More thoroughly than usual. More times than usual. I kept scrubbing and scrubbing for nearly an hour, harder, harder, harder!
My hands bled until they were completely covered and I started crying. It felt like I would never succeed in cleaning my hands.
Eventually I could take it no longer and fell to the floor, curled up in a ball.
I woke up a few minutes ago and bandaged my fingers and decided to write this down.
I think I'm starting to hallucinate again.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
So numb
I haven't gone to work at all this week. I've been depressed and scared.
I still haven't seen or heard from the shadows since it happened. There have been no more doors.
This makes me think it might have all been in my head. Did I do it? Was I hallucinating everything? Did I do everything I thought the shadows were doing? Was it all nothing?
At least I can plea insanity when they come for me.
I still haven't seen or heard from the shadows since it happened. There have been no more doors.
This makes me think it might have all been in my head. Did I do it? Was I hallucinating everything? Did I do everything I thought the shadows were doing? Was it all nothing?
At least I can plea insanity when they come for me.
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