I lived with a similar vague sense of fear during the last six months of living with my exah too.
My exah wasn't violent. But he did have a history of mental illness. He managed to hide it very well by self-medicating with alcohol and drugs but there were a few times where he had a complete break with reality resulting in a trip to the psych ward.
They would keep him there a week or two, stabilize him, and release him. He wouldn't follow treatment recommendations, would revert to self-medicating, and on we would go until the next break from reality.
My exah was so good at hiding psychotic symptoms. He was really really good at hiding the drinking and drugs he resorted to for self-medicating. But over the last year or so, I could just sense that it was getting harder and harder for him to maintain.
He didn't do anything overtly hostile or agressive. He isolated and drank and slept. I knew I had to get him out of the house we share with our son but I had some legal hurdles to overcome before I could do it. It felt like a race against time...would I be able to get him out before the next psychotic break? I worried about it. There was always an undercurrent of fear.
Six months after I got him out, he had the worst psychotic break yet. He broke into a fire station and stole a rescue vehicle with a trailer and rescue boat attached. There was a massive manhunt for him. IT was very bizarre. I knew he struggled with reality but I NEVER thought he would do something as absured as that...never ever.
Looking back now, I know I am lucky that I managed to get him out of my house when I did. It really scares me to think about what could have happened if he had been living with our son and me when he had his latest break. I can't even let my mind go there.
What I'm trying to say in a round about way is that I knew something was brewing with my exah. If I had gone to others and expressed my concerns, I'm not sure they would have taken them seriously or fully appreciated what was going on. After all, how could they? They didn't live with him. They didn't know the ebb and flow of his addiction and mental illness. They were outiders looking in. Fortunately, I didn't look to anyone else to validate my feelings. I did what I thought was right and I stuck with it. And thank God that I did in lighth of what happened just six months later.
Don't discount your instincts. Listen to your gut. You know the situation better than anyone else.