Where Insomnia Turns Nightmare Turns Reality

I don't think I was supposed to call Shiloh.

I also don't think I should turn my lights off at night. Or try to sleep. Or sleep in my room.

Last night.

I was trying to fall asleep, as usual. Watching some weird-ass kid show on TV that looked years old, it was nightmare fuel enough. But then came the scraping noises. At first I thought they were ordinary. But they grew louder, emanating from the wall behind my head. Something was in the hall, or the closet. I turned off the TV and started listening harder. Was this something to fear? I felt like it. I tried to assure myself it was nothing. The wind blowing through and moving stuff around. It was too peaceful outside for that though.

So I sat paralyzed in bed at god knows what hour of the night, not sure what the sound was or where it was, seeing only the worst possible monsters coming to life in my head. Turning the TV off was a bad idea, too. No light, and now I was far too terrified to turn it back on. The scraping seemed to slow then. And then it stopped entirely.

I sat in the dark and silence thinking it was over. Dawn would come, and it would all be over.

Then the closet light went on. Thing is, it would have been far less scary if I had a closet light. Faulty wiring or wild animals or burglars can't turn on lights that don't exist. And flashlights don't logically light up purple. It was safe to say that this was unnatural, and also safe to say that holding back the bile that built up in my throat and darting out of my room and down the stairs was a logical course of action. I spent the rest of the night locked in the bathroom holding a plunger and a pair of scissors for self-defense.

I haven't ventured into my room yet. I also haven't told anybody -- would getting others sucked into this whole thing make it worse?

I'm checking the closet today. In daylight. I'm not living in fear forever, whatever might have been in there.

Enter the Insomniac

Nights and days blend together in one sleepless homogeneity.

I can't tell the border between sleep and waking anymore.

This is what it wants.

It wants me to dream.

In my dreams in the little hours of sleep I get, I hear one word whispered over and over again. And yet I can't ever remember it when I wake.

A word that, to me, sounds like fear.

No Leads

I'm thinking of asking my parents about this birthday party thing. Stuff is really getting out of hand. But I don't want to stir up anything, I'm going to try digging a bit deeper.

I've been on my guard more lately. Adele is back with my aunt and uncle - I can't have her around with all this insanity going on. I have a strong feeling that this is about me, and about David, and maybe about Simon, but either way it's not a good idea to get a little kid involved.

The insomnia has been worse too. Now, I know my screen name is "InsomniacPrince" and all, but I've never taken the title serious. I've never missed more than a whole night of sleep more than once in a week. Now there's full-fledged paranoia creeping up. And it causes the burning-eyed, dry-mouthed tiredness that all the coffee and pills in the world only makes worse. I ward off the shadows by reading and playing video games way more often than usual, but there's never any focus.

I don't know what I'm dealing with, but I also know I was foolish to think it was gone.

Another thing - I was reformatting my blog out of boredom and where the hell did this "source" tag come from? Last time I checked, it was called "madness." This means one of a few things.

-Forgetfulness or amnesia-like symptoms? Maybe I just forgot...? Insomnia might be the cause of that.
-Server error? What would give your entries a new tag?
-Hacker? Why would they just change an entry tag though? Wouldn't I get either spammed or, uh, riddled with operator symbols and AltERnATing CaPS NoNSEnsE EntrIES? Ahaha. /nervouslaugh
-Something else totally off the wall?

I don't know. Maybe if somebody out there could help me, one of my watchers? It'd be appreciated.

I'll be on my guard. Until next time, don't sleep without me.

That sounded weird.

oH GOD thE PaIN (psyche!)

Ahaha.

So it's been a while since I last blogged. I don't know, maybe. I'm too lazy to open a new tab and check when that last update was (please slap me for typing that). But I was just surprised to discover that Blogspot is no longer blocked at my school. I'd like to take this study hall procrastination session to tell you everything is going smoothly. The spring has begun, and I've had no problems with my personal bogeymen.

I also figure it's about time to explain what all of this paranoid (?) blogging means.

December. I was going through a bit of a tough phase. Bogged down with work and school and all, and to top it off I've got my paranoid niece to worry about. I lost contact with David, and took refuge in horror movies and the internet. I lived on Mountain Dew and black coffee. And that's when he appeared.

He being... well, I don't think it's necessary to say, knowing what my obsession was in October and November. I'm talking about the Slender Man, dummy.

But let's just say I was wrong. Too much creepypasta-writing and too little common sense led me to this delusion, the delusion that I was being followed by some faceless Eldrich horror. The paranoia didn't last long. Eventually, I dismissed it all as the stories getting to me. So naturally I stopped believing.

And what do you know. Slendy disappeared faster than I could whip out a twenty dollar bill.

And in his place came the terrible nightmares. I might post some of my dream logs later, for those with an inclination to psychoanalysis. But in short, let me just describe them as surreal and terrifying. I started jumping at shadows. Everything that scared me at night scared me in the day. My worst nightmares were real. At first they were Slender Man, then they became, I dunno. Ghosts. Voices from Hell. Candle Cove and Pokemon Black for a while. And I knew this was all mocking me.

So I decided to play mind games with whoever was watching me. My parents, being the awesome people they are, actually allowed me to go on a several week-long trip, taking a bit of school off to gather my thoughts and see the world. And in the process, I aimed my thoughts at turning my worst fears into real things. Tangible things. I read books on serial killers. I watched some gory, squick-filled movies. None of the abominations you can't touch. Only real things. If something can kill you, you can kill it. If it's human, it has the capability to die too.

I'd like to skip the next part for now, if you don't mind. Too much work to make up. But let me tell you - my demons can now fully be considered thwarted (for now?) and the triumphant victory goes to Jacob Owen, nothing else.

Once I manage to wade my way out of the mess I made by leaving school and work, I'm starting my online video series. "The Project." I hope to put my experiences to scientific work.

Until next time, goodbye.

Mr. Widemouth Says Hello

/irrelevant title

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What is the color yellow to a blind man's mind's eye? And light, and dark for that matter? If one was born without vision but can comprehend color, what does red look like when they hear it?

Black?

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I get weird when I'm tired. Philosophical.

In other news, Adele is still scared witless. She sleeps with her light on in the guest bedroom, and has put a blanket up over the window. The tree always scratches the windowpane on windy winter nights... alliteration not intended. I can see how the Freddy Krueger-esque dead tree limbs would scare the kid, though. It's my fault, I suppose, so I hope she's better soon.

(Also, inb4 somebody tries to pretend this blog is all just a Slender Man story because of my obsession with him earlier in November).

Speaking of such matters, I've replied to your comment and sent an e-mail your way, Shiloh.

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Happy December, everybody. I guess it's that time of year again... it started snowing in Chicago (how fitting), and there are Christmas lights everywhere.