"Do not participate in the unfruitful deeds of darkness, but instead even expose them" (Eph 5:11)
I hope that my story will warn good people of sings of danger on spiritual road which, as I’ve recently learned, is full of mines. I also hope and pray that it will assist those who are now oppressed by evil, and give them courage to resist it. Helpful feedback is welcomed.
I grew up in an atheistic environment of communists-controlled Eastern Europe. Old Testament was the first book I read when my family and I, at the age of sixteen, crossed the iron curtain. I was fascinated by everything religious, spiritual, mystical and metaphysical, and was on a quest for the Truth ever since.
The popular New Age idea -- one truth, paths are many --made sense to me. I studied the texts and attended lectures about ancient spiritual traditions, from Kabala to Buddhism. I believed that God, infinite in His wisdom and creativity, revealed Himself in different ways to different people living in different times.
Since I begun to practice yoga and meditation about three and a half years ago I started experiencing notable psycho-spiritual and physiological changes that could not be classified as developmental or pathological. They fit the some profiles described in some texts as the ‘Kundalini Awakening,’ and also ‘Shamanic Illness.’
The nature of my work as a physical therapist changed dramatically. Learning and utilizing more alternative techniques and developing intuition, I was becoming holistic healer.
In February of 2006 I moved across the continent to Santa Monica, an affluent municipality near Los Angeles. There, I was immediately embraced by a very gifted and creative community of people I was first introduced to by M., who I meet a few months earlier at the seminar.
I was attracted to my new Californian friends because of our common interest in spirituality, healing and creative arts. Some of my new friends were medical doctors, college professors, yoga teachers, performers and holistic healers. They were showing me extraordinary things in a spontaneous and fun way. They invited me to partake in some amusing practices which at that time seemed harmless and even spiritually enlightening.
Much time was spent at the ‘burners’, events modeled after the Burning Man, which is a modern hippie festival that takes place once a year in the desert of Nevada -- a huge carnival where anything and everything goes: dancing to trance music, sex, drugs and masquerade at night, bacon for breakfast, socializing, occult and New Age activities in the afternoon.
M. encouraged me to see a doctor who gave me a prescription for medical marijuana. It helped my joint pain and significantly deepened my spiritual practice, but came at a steep price. Month later, I’ve learned that such psychotropic substances can open people to demonic invasion. I was careful in my drug use that I do not become addicted, but I was ignorant in that the end result can be a spiritual bondage.
The stage was set.
The psycho-spiritual transformation I was experiencing was getting progressively more intense. My intuitive abilities and skills as a healer flourished, memory and analytical skills also improved. My physical strength and endurance doubled. I was feeling oneness with the world, loving everything and everyone. It seemed most people were falling in love with me too. All seemed beautiful and well. Maybe that’s what enlightenment is supposed to be like, I thought. I pondered on how to go forward in a responsible way with new powers I seemed to be developing. I trusted I would be shown the way when the time comes.
Things started to drastically shift in early Spring of 2007. When M. went on a month-long trip to Thailand, R., a man I meet a year earlier at a holistic health conference suddenly reappeared and was very eager to hang out with me.
It turned out that R. and M. were friends with some of the same people. This synchronicity encouraged me to open up and confide in R. right away. R. immediately wanted to hang out with me all the time. I appreciated his taking me to private parties where I was meeting interesting people. He, as some of my other new friends, asserted that we are brothers, after a very short time of meeting me.
His behavior was becoming progressively more strange. He started asking me a lot of peculiar questions about my past, questions having mostly to do with my moral conduct. For instance, he wanted to know if I’ve ever forced a kiss on a girl. The answer was an honest “of course not”. R. persisted: “maybe, just a little, ah?” He asked me things like if I ever laughed as a boy seeing another kid fall down. R. also asked me provocative hypothetical questions, even such as if I would throw a banana peal on the ground or urinate on the garden. He argued that that would be good for plans since as a healer I’d be sharing good energy. I thought he was surely kidding. I now believe he was looking for a ground, a moral weakness, on the basis of which evil spirit could come into my life.
I began having puzzling experiences of feeling some energetic essences come in and out of my body. On two occasions I actually saw several ghost-like creatures enter me from the mirror. One time this happened at the SI, a dance club in Hollywood. Within a few days, a similar incident happened in the hall of a condo building allegedly owned by R.’s family.
R. was progressively becoming more and more possessive and manipulative. A couple of days after the ghosts-in-the-mirror experience he told me he wanted a kind of friend that would jump out of the window if he asked him to. Around Easter, late evening, we had an argument when I told him I was tired and wanted to go home. R. insisted that I should stay with him. I then demanded that R. tell me about his real intentions with me, which I increasingly suspected were less than wholesome. His face transformed. It became utterly malevolent and repulsively lustful, glowing with unnatural blue color. It wasn’t just a lust of sexual attraction, though; R. looked like he wanted to devour me. I was energetically besieged. I got out of the car. R. followed me. As I was walking away I felt a large energetic essence enter me from behind. It felt disgusting and extremely invasive. R. was walking after me. I walked away faster. When we were a good distance apart from each other, I ran back, got inside of the car and drove away. R. tried to open my car’s door as I was already leaving the driveway.
When I questioned him about this incident on the following day, he denied it and acted surprised about the sour turn of our friendship.
Concurrently, I was more frequently experiencing telepathy with other members of the tribe to which I was introduced to. I soon began to hear voices even when I was home alone. At first, they seemed to have been coming from the outside of me. Eventually, they moved in. At one time or another, often depending on the metaphysical system I was contemplating, voices lead me to believe they were spirit guides, my soul, thought adjusters, even god/goddess. They seemed benevolent and fun. I started to feel them come in and out of me on a daily basis. Several times they’ve even playfully touched me in a sexual way. Only months later, I learned about the concept of succumbi, a sexual act with a demon. At the time, it felt nice and loving; the idea that I was dealing with evil did not even cross my mind.
During those days I could be a long distance away in an unfamiliar neighborhood and get back home easily without even paying attention to the directional signs on the road. Some invisible intelligence, as a ‘force’ in Star Wars, was directing my arms to make the right turns in smooth and confident way. It was very amusing, and several nights in a row, I went on what I called a ‘driving meditation.’ I felt likewise ‘possessed’ when I danced, my body parts moved so easily on their own. I could have resisted but allowing this was a very pleasant sensation. It was also in synchronicity with what other people were doing next to me. Sometimes this force guided me to approach certain people and talk to them, and also to objects and move them in particular ways. It was coming out very artistic and meaningful in serendipitous kind of way. My healing practice, too, became much more ‘intuitive’. It felt awesome. Little did I know at the time what, in a not-so-far-away future, will come of these ‘being in a flow’ practices.
I liked the company, and appreciated encouragement and assistance of my new spirit friends. I accepted them as agents of the tribe, which I suspected was divinely inspired organization, an incarnate army of heaven perhaps. I discounted my experience with R. as a test, a fraternal initiation, and looked forward to my full acceptance by the whole group followed by revelation of the mysteries of the past few months, including that about the spirits and also the real reasons behind R.’s odd behavior.
Verbal communication from the spirits was predominantly pleasant and appeared in distinctly human voices, of different tonality, age and gender. Frequently, legible sentences echoed through the pedestrian sounds, such as that of airplane in the sky, street noise, or water dripping. They had symbolic communication signals too. For example, when they agreed with my thoughts I heard birds singing, when they didn’t, I heard a flash of a toilet. “How clever,” I thought. When I was in a conversation with other people they ‘assisted’ me by giving me sings based on Neuro Linguistic Programming (i.e. itching specific parts of my body) to indicate their agreement or disagreement with the proposed ideas. Sometimes messages came in as inserted thoughts. I’ve learned to distinguish those from my own, though it’s often a difficult task.
In tandem, communication with other people became multilayered. One level consisted of communication of the minds. On another level, through words, body language and posture, I was talking with their spirit, or spirits, as it turned out. Most ordinary people did not know this and were impressed by and inquired about my ability to know things about them, specifically, what’s on their mind. Some people appeared to me as more ‘spiritual’ than others. In reality, those were more spiritually possessed or oppressed. Apparently, people belonging to the mysterious tribe, the initiated, had the ability to communicate with spirits too. This was one of the major ways we recognized each other. I was becoming increasingly more like them – in the flow, cool, smooth, spontaneous, sensitive – all the things I valued as gifts. I viewed them particularly meaningful for me as a healer.
Eventually, voices became bossier. They maintained that my ‘brothers’ wanted me to follow their instructions. I still thought the initiated to be amazing and spiritually evolved beings, which obviously possess superhuman abilities. I was grateful to them for befriending me, helping me with work, teaching me, and catalyzing my ‘spiritual growth’. Considering this process a divine intervention, with reverence, I paid attention and found a way to rationalize what was happening.
When voices cheered me on to be a ‘bull’, I supposed I was encouraged to be more assertive and outgoing – a good thing, I figured, considering I was chronically shy. I played that role for a couple of weeks, mostly at the music festivals and parties I was invited to by my ‘brothers’.
I avoided orgies, alcohol and other hedonistic aspects of these parties, and preferred dancing, music, and observing the theatrical drama spontaneously manifesting there. By watching people act out their subconscious urges without inhibition I was growing in my understanding of human psyche. With encouragement by both, the voices and the innitiated, I also observed myself exhibiting an increasingly boisterous personality, which was very much unlike my usual introspective self. Unfortunately only much later, I learned that evil forces like to trick people into doing things which seem spiritually innocent -- even beneficial – taking advantage of human curiosity and desire for advancement.
Alas, it made no difference that I wasn’t a Christian or that I did not know the specifics of what the Bible says – even an indirect involvement in, as it turns out, an occult, give spirits a legal ground for oppression. It also didn’t matter that I had absolutely no intention of serving Satan, in whom I did not even believe at that time.
It was at the ‘burners’, that I most often experienced a strange energetic exchange with other people, people I was led to by mysterious force. These people were obviously also aware of what was happening and many seemed to enjoy it. This was another way I could tell the initiated. I was puzzled by this and asked around but got no straight answer. My theory at that time was that this was a sort of Tantric exchange of information, spiritual gifts and healing energy.
I later learned what a mistake that was to participate, for those were spirits that were exchanged. These spirits, though, had the information and counterfeit gifts.
At one of these parties, by mysterious force, I was emphatically shown a drawing collage with a picture of a book that had ‘Life’ inscribed on it in Russian, my native language. Voices explained that they had my book of life.
Voices encouraged me to stop talking to my old friends and family, and spend more time by myself, at home, smoking pot and meditating. Allegedly, I was groomed for my spiritual awakening and serving a higher purpose, and therefore I was not to waste time on what was unessential at the moment. The idea was that I would later re-enter the world as my more fully realized self.
In reality, of course, voices masterfully exploited my isolation. A combination of yoga practice and drug use dismantled my spiritual boundaries and made my body-mind system susceptible to spirit infiltration. Spirits and my so-called ‘brothers’ played me like a lonely figure on a chess board. I was grossly unprepared to face time-honed schemes of evil.
Voices called me a beautiful man, a genius, most powerful man in the world, etc. With an amazing regularity, like a clock, whenever I saw and admired an attractive object, such as a house or a car, voices announced to me that I’ll have it all. They promised me eternity, and told me I could be anybody I wanted. I was growing suspicious of their sincerity. Possessions were not what I was after in life. I prayed that I be shown the truth.
Increasingly, it appeared that everything had a consciousness, not only living creatures but also inanimate objects. One moment circumstances seemed to confirm pantheistic monism, another, polytheism appeared evident. At times, it seemed I had a choice about my reality, at others it was imposed on me. I was receiving some very profound but often contradictory ideas about the nature of existence, God, and purpose of life. Voices cheerfully encouraged my ‘realizations.’ Those were perplexing days but I still trusted that it was part of a good process and that the ultimate truth will soon be revealed.
One day voices announced that I was god. I later understood a fuller significance of this. Considering oneself god is a big heresy, a sin which demons can use to condemn their victim when the time is right. Also, months later, my research revealed that many satanists regard themselves as gods. This is at the very root of the ‘original sin.’
At that time I knew very little about all this. I rationalized what I heard from my ‘guides’ by remembering the adage that there’s a spark of God in everyone. Voices insisted that I was the god. Conceptually I tried this idea for a size, and contemplated that perhaps as Buddhist teach, I am the consciousness which dreams up the existence into being. Ironically, the voices were responsible for my not getting any more invested in this idea, when they insisted that since I was god I should be an ‘asshole.’ This meant, for example, that I should rudely take whatever I wanted, not ask and not pay for it. Voices claimed that except for me, all creatures in this world were automatic mechanisms, marionettes with no free will, designed to react predictably to my thoughts and actions. Even if what they told me was true, I did not want to act badly towards anyone. When I refused to follow their ‘guidance’, one of the more deep-toned voices claimed that he my god. By then I’ve heard from the voices enough to know that they were lying. I wondered if I might have been tested by the real God, but I was growing in doubt that the divine has anything to do with what was happening. Systematically, spirits endorsed competitiveness, pride, and cynicism. Their advice seemed ridiculous, and utterly opposed my moral beliefs. Fortunately, for the most part, I had enough insight to hold back.
By April, it got so bad I could not carry on with my work as a physical therapist and a healer. I was more frequently coming late and on a couple of occasions did not show to work at all. Just before leaving the house, I’d often get surges of energy, spontaneous movements of body parts, or peculiar sweet-sulfur. I was embarrassed to show in public like this. Before long, the owner of the clinic where I worked called me and told me that I was fired. I was in agreement that I could not continue working like this. I hopped that this ordeal is a temporary trial and would soon come to an end, at which point I would resume my work.
In early May things started developing with a lightening speed. Another ‘burner’ festival, LIB, near Santa Barbara was taking place on my birthday weekend. My ‘brothers’ told me that for a present they cheeped in and bought me an admission ticket to the party (it’s over $100). Just before the weekend the voices convinced me that my friends arranged for an RV – a deluxe way to go to these festivals. I knew that M. was renting one out. So, still being naïve about the true nature of these people and the voices I did not even take a tent. I actually recalled Jesus saying ‘be like children’, so I was in the manner I understood it – I was trusting. I thought I’ll just give it one more chance.
On the way to the festival I was informed that the person who was supposed to give me the ticket was not coming. I had to pay. When I got there, I could not reach either of my ‘brothers’ by phone, though service was working. When I finally found them, they acted as if they did not know it was my birthday.
They gave me magic mushrooms; ‘party’ started. As it progressed, I became increasingly a center of attention. It was as if a cruel joke was played on me – instead of my being celebrated, I was made fun of in all kinds of ways. It wasn’t everyone at the festival, but it was a sizable group who was encircling me with vexes. My closer ‘brothers’ vanished. I was there alone with a couple of dozen of obviously initiated people, some of whom I saw before but there was no one I was closely friends with.
As the morning of the day after my birthday approached, I realize this was not foreplay to a celebration. After struggling for a few hours to get my car out, I left the festival grounds. I was upset to say the least. This marked the beginning of the torture that was to come. Later voices used my having angry thoughts when I was leaving the party as an excuse to torment me. They claimed I was at fault because I judged, even cursed them. Apparently, it was good enough ground to retaliate with months of daily insults.
Voices immediately proceeded to make fun of or berate me most of the time. When I was nice to people, for example, when I said “thank you,” they teased me in irritating tone ‘we fenk you, we fenk you’, thus also making fun of my accent. They mocked me by calling me a ‘teacher’ and a ‘shepherd’, and implied that my behavior is nauseating, when I attempted to encourage others to do good. They chanted ‘its bull shit, it’s all bull shit’ when I merely thought about anything loving or religious.
Voices pleaded for me to “concede”. One day I gave a homeless man who was panhandling on my street some change. As soon as I drove away he yelled at me “gotcha”. Voices shamed me: “you lost him”. These wired occurrences became more frequent. When they happened, voices would often accentuate my predicament, saying “Everyone is f@#&ing with you.”
It was getting more bizarre by the day. Voices told me I should have a homosexual relationship; they specifically told me to go to one of my ‘brothers’ and give him an oral sex. They said everybody was a “faggot” (not my word) and that I am too straight. They also told me that I was “too good”, “too righteous.” They claimed that thus I was dishonest with myself. Needless to say, I disagreed and did not comply.
Among absurd ideas they tried to get me to believe in was that I was already dead. One version of it was that I died in an accident some months ago and was now in my afterlife. They tried to get me confused in various other ways, with increasing intensity and vigor.
My priority in dealing with people has always been the good Hippocratic dictum – to help, or at least to do no harm. Since I did not like the way voices wanted me to relate to people and did not want to suffer the punishment for opposing them, I withdrew even more.
As I saw my professional and personal life crumble, I started giving increasingly less consideration to what voices said. I realized, no matter whose agents they were, clearly they were not my friends. There was now an unmistakable anger and hatred in their tone. My idea of spirit guides has always been that they are gentle and loving beings. It became clear to me that these voices were to no good.
I asked, whatever these things are, to leave me. This infuriated the voices. They retaliated with an awful shower of dreadful insults.
After my birthday fiasco I tried to get some answers from people who apparently initiated me into this, whatever it was. Most of them mocked me covertly, in an amazing synchronicity with the voices, and offered little help. A few seemed to sympathize with me, but offered little real help. One man hinted to me that these things were not my friends, which confirmed my own growing conviction. Another, also covertly, foretold that they would push my buttons. A passerby blabbered that I was too big and so they had to ‘fix it.’
I suspect this meant that I was getting close to finding the real truth, and wanted to use it to benefit the world, which did not sit well with the enemies of God.
Many initiated in my presence seemed to channel bizarre information supposedly about me and prophetic. Some of it was ominous.
A few people I never meet before freaked out the moment they saw my eyes. Some of them seemed to recognize something. What a twist of fate, just a few weeks earlier most people I meet had a look of love in their eyes upon meeting me. I now suspect that what people saw in me was a look of a demonized person. It was a look I sometimes saw in the initiated. Extremely dilated pupils -- making any-colored eyes seem black -- and a predatory sparkle.
One of many things that bewildered me then was that some initiated referred to me as ‘she’ when gossiping about me, standing next to me. I figured that they did this covertly so that they can later deny that conversation was about me. Maintaining secrecy was of paramount importance in this mysterious community. I was puzzled as to why I was so harshly and unfairly judged by people who hardly knew me. Months later I realized that they were probably referring to the main entity which infested me, a demonic spirit which eventually introduced herself as my bride, whose young female voice I was to hear very often from then on.
Voices explained that everyone was lying to me, that these people are bull-shitters, and that since I didn’t like their games and also because I was unattractive and too old, nobody wanted me, and that I should now “get the f@(k out.” Whenever I went outside, there was almost always somebody stocking or otherwise playing with my mind. When I was in my first-floor apartment in Santa Monica, I heard people congregating by my window laughing and making fun of me. As if this wasn’t enough, one day my car was stolen, and then found by a police a few days later allegedly parked on a metered spot.
I did not smoke marijuana since the birthday. I wanted to be sober in order to have the best chance of putting an end to the crisis. Incidentally, I was planning on quitting at my birthday anyway. This action did not help my relationship with the voices, nor stopped the stocking episodes.
Spirits claimed that I’m their “shell” and forbade all personal initiative. A few times they called me their “taxi”. As far as they were concerned, any action, even thought, was a transgression, punishable by a deluge of threats and insults. Sometimes, when I so much as hinted that I was suffering, they said: “Happy Birthday!” I guess they thought it was funny.
To escape the stocking, one time I went out camping in the mountains. Spirits’ assault at night was horrendous. Mixed in with insults, they kept telling me how stupid I was for coming there and also that I’m lying, allegedly because I didn’t like nature. I tried to reason with them, reminding that I’ve truly enjoyed this activity before, and would have enjoyed it now if it wasn’t for them. To this they emphatically exclaimed: “EXACTLY.”
In a desperate effort to escape the torture I went scuba diving into the depth of the sea. My tormentors were still making fun of me at seventy feet under the surface of Pacific Ocean.
In order to at least escape the mob of initiated, devastated, I moved out of my apartment. I spent the following couple of weeks driving around neighboring towns. Every place I went I was accompanied by howls of contrived and hideous laughter.
I thought perhaps I was kicked out from the area. Second week of July I left the country. I went nearly as far away from the epicenter of my persecution as was possible. In New Zealand my incarnate following tried to sustain a belief that everyone hates me, but harassment by people clearly stopped. In fact, I found people there very nice. My travel experience confirmed that my tormentors where of two kinds – one, spirits within, and two, some of the initiated people, most of who apparently reside in South California.
I tried to find a reason for what was happening to me in a positive light. I reflected on the story of Job, and the Temptations of Saint Anthony. I've considered that this could be super-accelerated karmic cleansing, a temporary purgatory, or a divinely inspired test.
I returned to New York. Eventually, spirits mostly gave up on a plot to convince me that the whole world wants me out. My entourage from hell continued their attacks on me in other ways, however. As I’ve become more familiar with their games, their strategies of torturing me became less fantastic, yet still masterful and cruel.
Most prominent voices speak mostly Russian, but they apparently understand English well, and likely, know other languages too. There are many distinct characters that seem to have separate consciousness, but two, and young female and a young male, are most common, taking turns talking to or about me all the time. The young female voice, one that claimed to be my bride, says that she’s the most powerful. The third most frequent personality is a deep middle-aged male voice, which at one time, when this was just beginning, claimed to be god. This voices, especially when upset, is the most diabolic in sound.
Sometimes voices sound natural, sometimes non-human, as if belonging to some cartoon character. Sometimes their speech is perfectly fluent; sometimes they tormented me by stretching out their sentences with long echoes of each syllable. For instance, they say: teeeeeeeeeeeeeshshushushushushushushushushushushushuuuteeeeshshshs. Doing so they force me to anticipate and complete, and thus in a way, corroborate with, their consecutively repeated and often familiar statement. This declaration itself, of course, ridicules my grave situation. ‘tee shutish’ means ‘you are joking’. Also, the first, most stretched out part of it – ‘tee shut’ -- means ‘you are a clown’. In addition, month later, listening to the Gregorian Chant, I learned that the middle part which they emphasize – eeshu – sounds just like Jesus in Latin. Thus, I believe it’s very possible that they might have been attempting to associate a feeling of distress with the holy name.
Although the voices seem to have unique and consistent personalities, they don’t reveal any information that can be used to trace their human identity. In fact, they seem to judge humanity as outsiders. This becomes apparent in the manner of their occasional critical observations such as “you people are so weak.” They accept most identities when I contemplate their nature, the more dramatic the better, and had suggested some of their own. They most often identify themselves collectively as bull-shitters, and sometimes in singular: the island. Some of the other most peculiar names they’ve came up for themselves: my toys, my magic markers, my prohibiters, not-wanters, border patrol, prosecutors. They like me to think of them as aliens, a brain microchip or a mechanism in my ears, but they mostly what I believe is the most appropriate title. Usually they insist that they are not demons. Though on a few occasions they’ve told me they are a familiar spirits. The young female voice once said she is a devil. And when I’ve made a decision to share my story with others, they’ve tried to convince me that I’m imagining them.
One time, when I was extremely inundated by their assaults and I lit a cigarette (with very rare exceptions, I’m not a smoker), voices cheered me: “exactly, see, you are a bull-shitter.” Understanding their innuendo I rebuked them right away, telling them that this doesn’t mean that I’m going to become a bad or self-destructing person. To this they replied that if that’s the case bull-shitters will regard me as crazy. Clearly, they gave me an ultimatum. I will either gratify selfish desires with sinful acts and serve the evil or suffer the punishment. They know that the second choice then limits me to these options: be open about my hearing voices and suffer judgment for having madness or possession, suffer in private, or kill my self in desperation. I chose the first.
On a daily basis these creatures behave as the worst kind of hooligans who tease and torment for the fun of it. They suggest lewd acts, draw attention to things sexual or filthy, and then scold me for letting them enter my mind. By commenting on my deeds and thoughts they rob me of all privacy and create an environment in which I am constantly judged.
They try to convince me that I “don’t need anything anymore” and also that I should “die already.” They call me all kinds of insulting or absurd names, such as donkey, stupid and a clown. For a while they referred to me a “bitch,” thus retaliating for my calling them so months ago when they first turned on me. Sometimes, they give me symbolic labels, such as hole puncher, then instigate me to try to figure out their statement by commanding “don’t solve, don’t solve.” Another example of them trying to send me on a wild goose chase is by telling me to “wake up already.” They follow this moments later with a reminder that “it’s all bull shit.” In the beginning, they often declared that I created or requested this terrible experience. Now, more frequently they take a credit for everything. In fact, they assert that bull-shitters invented all there is, including technology, entertainment, politics and all religions. They go back to the idea that I am responsible for my experience or that I imagine it all when I think about exposing their works.
As time went on, and I made a choice to defy, these creatures’ objectives became progressively clear and explicit: to torment me with feelings of anger, fear and guilt, drive me to self-destruction, even suicide, or at the least, make me crazy. Here are some of their confessed reasons: “We like it like that”, “It’s delicious”, “We are joking”, “We seriously dislike you”, “We hate you”, “Because you’re a bitch/asshole”, “You deserve it”, and “This is your book (of life).” They’ve also told me such things as: “The rope is awaiting you”, “What do you need a life for”, “Your already had it all.”
Until recently, I never gave much thought about evil spirits or devil. I thought Satan and demons are mythical, or as per Carl Jung, archetypal characters. I also thought they are ideas people used to scare and manipulate masses with. Later I’ve learned that in fact, devil’s clever deception is to convince humans that he does not exist. Even if they were real, I figured before this happened, unclean spirits were not likely to seek a relationship with a good man. Clearly, I was naïve and ignorant to think this. In fact, adherents of satanism believe that the more pure the sacrifice, the more power they gain from their lord of darkness.
There was a lot I did not understand about what was happening to me since I got into spiritual practice three years ago. What I was doing seemed to make me a more capable and happier person. My intentions were to do good, to seek the knowledge of God’s will and the truth and to share it with others.
Spirits came in with a promise of holy guidance, a direct, personal revelation. They were masters of seduction. They were all I wanted them to be… until they got a strong hold of me. When the courtship ended they proceeded to batter my mind with fear and delusion.
In the evening, when I’m laying in bed trying to fall asleep, I am often kept up for hours with the threats and scolding, as well as hissing and growling sounds. Spirits, it seems, talk to me all the time, even when I’m sleeping. When I wake up from a dream they tell me their judgment of my conduct in it. Sometimes I catch them brainwashing me with evil propaganda. One time I woke up to the voices rhyming a poem, ending it, as soon as I was alert and was paying attention to what they were saying, with the words “all creation in black mass”.
I believe I was set up to be possessed by demons by a group of people who serve evil, and are in a symbiotic relationship with demonic spirits. It’s possible they wanted to initiate me into their community. When I did not respond favorably, they turned on me and tried to destroy me. I suspect many of these people don’t fully realize what they do. May God have mercy on their soul.
Sometimes demons tell me that the game is over, or that they’ve done their cleaning job, even that they’ve made a mistake and that they’re going away; but then a moment later they deny their previous statement, proceed with their assault and tell me that this will never end, that it’s all over for me, and that it’s too late to do anything about it.
Since I returned to New York I tried all kinds of things to resolve my problem: energy, psychic, kabalistic, yogic and shamanic healing, positive visualizations and meditation, hypnosis, crystals, herbs, other supplements, and Tibetan medicine are a few examples. I’ve recruited the best healers I could find; nothing helped. I also consulted with several reputed psychologists and psychiatrists. Neither consultations nor medication did anything for the voices. In my heart, I knew that neither neurosis nor chemical disbalance was an issue. To me the nature of my problem is crystally clear.
Demonic spirits mocked me: “Where’s your God?” Ironically, they’ve made a believer out of me. I was borderline agnostic before the summer of ’07. Evil spirits, contrary to their objective I’m sure, forced me to find what I was looking for all along. Their existence proved to me, beyond any doubt, the reality of discarnate spiritual beings. However statistically improbable it is that the physical world as we know it is merely a result of a series of incredible accidents, a realm of entirely spiritual creatures surely must have had a Creator, who is the Lord, Most High God.
I find that Christianity has the soundest explanation for my experience. It also offers the most promising cure. I believe that deliverance in Jesus Christ is the key to my healing. The nature of my experience was first explained to me by some good articles I found on the Internet. Then it was clearly confirmed by the Bible, and further enlightened by excellent publications on spiritual warfare and deliverance. I was shocked to learn how prevalent the phenomenon of demonic possession and activity of satanic cults are in our society.
In November 2007 I was publicly anointed in my devotion to the Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior. In February of '08 a priest officially baptised me into a Christian faith. I pray to God daily, thank Him for His Son and ask for the Holy Spirit to fill and to guide me. When I do this, when I pick up Christian literature, or when I go to a Church, spirits try to discourage me, calling me a coward. This now is one of the most common names they call me. Demons are obviously concerned about my plans. A few times I heard them utter “(oh, no) what have we done”, “how can we shut him up.” They know that I am fully determined to find a complete resolution, and also to help others.
I realize that what I describe will stretch most people’s credulity. However, this is an honest account of what has happened to me in the last few months. I wrote it in hope that my story will help others not to fall victim of Satan and his legion of followers, and perhaps even inspire some satanists turn from the errors of their ways. It might be painful, your cross too may be heavy, but it’s the right thing to do. A year of daily prayer, after several exorcisms and deliverance sessions, results begin to show -- the oppression is about fifty percent less. I hope for a full recovery.
Law enforcement agencies, priests, therapists and public at large should be made aware of the real dangers associated with some very attractive and popular pastimes of our day and age. People should also be well aware of covert but often deadly activities of the proponents of evil, in physical as well as spiritual realms. Head in the sand is not an effective defense. Works of the devil must be exposed and opposed.
May God deliver us all from evil, lead us to all truth, and bless all His children everywhere with good health and peace.
For deliverance strategies and other helpful resources go to: