Story 4
When I was a little girl, around 8 or 9, I started to hear knocking in my room at night. It would go on for hours nonstop until I fell asleep. This happened for weeks at a time, mostly during the summer. By the time the knocking had continued for about three weeks straight, I started whispering, “Hey, if you need help crossing over, that’s fine. Just let me go to sleep.”
I never told anyone because I knew there had to be a rational explanation; I just hadn’t figured it out yet. It could have been a raccoon, the house settling, or even a creepy person. The knocking became less frequent over the years, and I eventually decided not to care. It faded away entirely.
Flash forward a few years — I was 12 when I started having issues with anxiety. I received treatment, but nothing seemed to help. They eventually sent me for a full workup. It turned out there was no raccoon, no house noises, and no creepy pervert making the sound. I had schizophrenia. © not_a_mutant / Reddit
