The sick twisted freak

I was going to make a post informing you that I got my pills and that I'm feeling better. However, I'm suddenly feeling much MUCH worse. This is an e-mail that I got last night while I was sleeping.

From May 23, 2011

That black box? Yeah, that's my home address. That's where I fucking live. This bastard knows where I live. I'm looking into getting to a hotel for a while. Fortunately I'm moving in about 10 days. If I can, I'm going to spend the least time possible in my current house so that freak can't find me.

Who told him?