When I was a little girl, I started to hear knocking in my room at night. It would go on for hours nonstop until I fell asleep.
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.” A couple years later,I received treatment for anxiety, 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.
