Are There Ghosts? Is It Me? Childhood House Experiences

Please note, I am not an expert on the paranormal and have no idea whether my experiences are connected/explainable, etc.

I hardly know where to begin with my experiences. I'll start by saying that just before I was born, my parents added an extension to the house so there were enough rooms for themselves, my brother and I. Contrary to most stories, my issues were formed in the new part of the house as opposed to the old one.

When I was very young, I was Christian (the only person in my family with religious beliefs). Certain family members teased me about it and as I grew up I became interested in science; although I am still a spiritual person, with more Buddhist beliefs than anything. The relevance of that differs depending on how everyone views my story, I am absolutely open to opinions and theories here.

The start of my experiences begins when I was young. After a couple of years, I moved out of the cot in my parents' room (old side) and into my own bedroom, situated on the new side of the house. From here, I always experienced traumatic dreams and since I've been old enough to theorize myself, I've kept a dream journal.

I was gifted a doll at birth which sat on the window ledge above my bed and it always scared me (she seemed to move, smile wider and once even giggle faintly- most probably the imagination of a young child scared of the dark, I am aware).

As well as this, with the new extension, there was the addition of a second bathroom. The downstairs bathroom is in the new side of the house and upstairs is in the old. For as long as I can remember, I have avoided using the downstairs bathroom even if it meant waiting for my mum to get out of the bath upstairs when I was desperate to use the toilet. Even today, I subconsciously choose the upstairs bathroom, preferring baths to showers (the shower being in the downstairs bathroom).

Although now I am older, I try to shrug off the feelings of unease that I always have, it doesn't make it much easier for me. When my brother moved out recently, I moved into his room (situated on the old side of the house) and my nightmares have ceased almost completely after having them nearly every night for years.

I feel that all the above is relevant background information so now for my experiences (chronological order from when I was youngest to now).

The first thing I remember experiencing beside the bad dreams was the doll stuff I mentioned above. At this point in my life, I hadn't ever seen any horror films or heard any creepy doll stories and all the women in my family adored dolls so I had no outside negative influence. However, I remember vividly what I said before. When I told my parents that I didn't like her, they told me to stop being silly etc etc. After a week or so of complaining, they agreed to put her in the loft.

Because of the extension, we have two lofts, the big one in the old part of the house and the smaller one in the new part. She was put in the small loft which was consequently above my bedroom. Be it childish anxiety or something paranormal, I used to hear scuttling above me at night after she was put there. Mouse traps never caught anything and there was no evidence of mouse faeces.

In my childhood bedroom, I was always extremely paranoid that I was being watched whether it was from my window, my wardrobe or other toys and dolls that I had in my room. Even to the point where after a bath I would prefer getting dried and dressed in the bathroom rather than being naked in my bedroom. This is at the ages of 5/6; to me it seems strange that a child this young would be worried about something like that (note: I have no history of abuse or trauma).

When I was seven, my parents split (again, not traumatic, there were no arguments just a mutual agreement) and I moved with my mum to a house not far from home whilst my dad stayed in the original house. In this new house, I was okay, I slept well and I have nothing of import to note whilst I was living here.

Then my mum and I moved up to Suffolk when I was nine, which is about an hour and a half away from our first house. It was an old country house with a massive garden right next to a farm. My bedroom had a little cupboard in it where the boiler was. It was not unusual for me to hear noises but they can be explained by the boiler and the house being so old.

Until I started having vivid dreams set in my bedroom about a man. I knew he wasn't alive and I don't know whether he was just a dream or maybe an entity trying to contact me through my unconscious state? He was not particularly evil or malicious but he did scare me a lot and I started losing sleep again. I still remember that his name was Robert, sometimes Rob and he was always complaining of back pains and cramp in his hands. His fingernails went just past the tips of his fingers and they were very dirty. He sometimes spoke, not directly to me but as if he was talking to himself or a pet. His presence in my dreams sometimes resulted in bed wetting and once (maybe co-incidental) a nose-bleed.

My feeling of paranoia started coming back at this house and I would always keep my curtains shut and I turned my little TV around so it wasn't facing my bed when I slept. Similarly, at night I would turn my free-standing mirror around so it couldn't 'watch' me sleep.

My nanny became ill so we decided to move back our original town where all the family were. Whilst we were finding a place to live, we stayed with my auntie in her large, old bungalow which used to be farmland. My mother, my aunt and I all have 'ghost stories' from that house. Again, they weren't malicious or threatening but still there.

Once, my mother went to sleep without setting an alarm for work but was sharply awoken at seven on the dot by a firm push on the shoulder. She originally thought it was either me or my aunt but we were both still sound asleep. My auntie recalls seeing a man a couple of times, once when she was in the kitchen and once outside in the garden. Both times he was just walking casually as though he himself lived there and was just wandering. I too saw a man, we assume the same one, at the end of the garden by the oak and conifer trees kneeling down. Both my aunt and I said that if we had been out somewhere, we would have assumed he was a normal alive person, he wasn't transparent or hovering or anything ghostly like that. But in her house and garden, he couldn't have been there unless he wasn't alive.

From there, my mum and I lived in a small flat where my only grievance was a painting of a woman at a piano which my mum bought at an auction. Nothing happened in articular but she always made me feel uneasy.

Then we moved into a flat with my grandad. There was nothing untoward there at all, I was perfectly happy. Then my mum moved in with her partner, I lived there for a while but didn't get on with her partner too well -SO- I moved back in with my dad, in the house that I was born in.

I am now 18 and mostly living in this house alone. My dad spends the majority of his time at work, or at his fiance's house about half an hour from us. I don't mind having the house to myself, it gives me some responsibility and also freedom. That doesn't mean that I'm not often spooked though.

The most recent events have been as so.

The downstairs bathroom (in the new part of the house, which is the part that has always creeped me out) has been home to some of my more terrifying experiences. Many times, I have been on the toilet or in the shower when the door has either opened or shut on me (sometimes more than once during my time there) which doesn't sound particularly terrifying but when you're completely alone and know there are no drafts, seeing something move by itself is awful. I have also seen what looks like handprints appear on the mirror, I am aware that they could have been caused by someone touching them beforehand but they are quite small and I (the only person living here with small enough hands) haven't ever touched the mirror completely like that.

More recently, there have been two times when I am home alone that I was almost convinced I was being burgled. I could hear noises downstairs that sounded like the opening of doors/pillows being thrown on the floor/scraping of sorts only to find that nothing had moved or been touched (my house is completely detached so it couldn't have been next door. We have a very bright outdoor sensor that detects people, foxes etc so it couldn't have been that). One of the times, I heard the downstairs bathroom open when I wasn't in there. I was alone in the house (is it any wonder I refrain from using it?).

Even more recently than that, my Grandad passed away and I adopted his cats and moved them into the house. The cats were so attached to him and moped like mad when they first moved in. There are two of them, Benedict (pure white fluffball) and Rammy (pure black fluffball), they're darling and I love them. Ben is medically mute and Rammy is so so shy that he never makes a noise unless ABSOLUTELY necessary. As they started to become more comfortable in the house, Rammy would start 'talking' a little more often and, like my grandad would, I would meow back at him to acknowledge him. It seemed to make him happy so I did, it was nice to have someone to talk to occasionally!

Now one time, I'm home alone as usual and the hall door opens. Rammy immediately runs down the stairs, meowing at the top of his lungs and runs straight through the door that opens. After a few seconds, he walked back out, still meowing a little and jumped up onto the sofa next to me (bear in mind he HATES being stroked so he never sits next to anyone or even really goes near you unless you're feeding him). By this point, Ben has also come downstairs and is sitting on the other sofa looking at the spot next to me with his head cocked inquisitively to one side as if someone was calling him. I stayed where I was and after about five minutes or so, Ben went into another room and Rammy went to the sofa that Ben was on previously looking at the spot next to me still. Rammy meowed and I meowed back at him as usual. Rammy followed me into the kitchen and meowed again. Before I had a chance to respond, I heard a crude 'MEOW' sort of noise, it wasn't Rammy because I was watching him and it couldn't have been Ben because he's mute. I theorize that it was my grandad coming to check on the kitties but I don't really know.

Sorry this has been so long but I thought it would be easier to say everything in one post rather than putting it up all separately. Let me know what you think, is my house haunted? Am I haunted? Is it all really explainable? Could my cats have seen my deceased Grandfather? What about the stuff when I was young? I have so many questions but I don't know enough about the paranormal to even begin answering them myself. Any comments would be greatly appreciated, I hope you can tell my sincerity I really haven't fabricated any of this.

Thank you!