Promises, Broken & Unspoken (Saints & Haints, Chapter 14)
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More communications from spirits, from the late Summer of 2022, and extended details of my possession experience.
Chapter 14
Promises, Broken & UnspokenOn the 17th, there were, once again, pictures of guitars all over my Instagram, as well as one additional picture that caught my attention. It was of a cave that opened out into the sea; almost exactly like the one in my vision. When I visited the pages of my favorite tarot readers, I found that their predictions no longer resonated with me. They were no longer right.
"Looks like I'm out of the matrix," I thought to myself.
Throughout the day, whenever I closed my eyes for a moment, I was assaulted with visions which I knew were not truthful. They were sort of twisted inversions of the things A had shown me. For instance, once I saw a melted mouth, slowly eating hearts. It was as if someone was poking fun at us.
I was a little bit tearful still, but at least on that day I knew why. I was sad about giving up on S. It wasn't that I was still in love with him; I truly was not. It was more like I still had this nagging feeling that marrying S had been God's plan for me, and I was going against it. I felt that both marrying S, and writing books about my psychic and mediumship experiences, were missions I'd accepted. Well, perhaps marrying S wasn't a mission exactly, but, nevertheless, I felt that it was what I was supposed to do; that it had been part of the plan somehow.
Still, I felt that those two "decrees," if you will, were quite different from one another. I could write books, even if it killed me. I could not, however, marry a man whom I no longer loved; that is, even if he wanted to marry me, which it seemed that he did not. So, I said a little prayer, telling God that I would prefer to remain single for the rest of my life, and asking Him to please never send me another man.
I continued to become tearful at intervals, for the rest of the day, regardless of whether or not I was feeling sad at the moment. It occurred to me that I might have been experiencing some extreme empathy; that my bouts of tears might have been the result of picking up on someone else's sadness. I wondered if the person who was sad was a spirit, because there was no one else around. I sensed that this sadness was somehow related to my giving up on S. I wondered why my relationship status was such a big deal, apparently, to someone.
Quite honestly, I felt relieved to be freed from loving S. Those feelings had turned off completely, as if a spell had been broken. I would be lying my ass off, however, if I tried to pretend that A's resurfacing in my life didn't have everything to do with my decision to remain single. I had hope, at least, that someday A would be my love, even if I had to wait until after this life was over to find out. At the heart of the matter, it was a decision to choose saintly love over earthly love. I didn't even know for sure if A had any kind of romantic feelings for me; but something about that smooth flame had reminded me of what love is supposed to feel like. There was no going back. Anything else would've been a cheap imitation.
My demons expressed their certainty that A did, most definitely, have romantic feelings for me. They told me,
"The man ate your heart notes," and,
"What you've just done is, you've given up the best man on the planet, for the best man in the universe."
I said,
"Well. Good trade, then."
That night, however, they harassed me during my prayers. They would not shut up! They were trying to make me doubt my visions, and doubt my connection with A. I ended up playing my exorcism prayers CD for hours and burning frankincense and sage.
I noted in my journal that I remembered talking to A again that night as I was falling asleep.
"I was kind of out of it," I wrote, "but still aware enough to know what was going on, and I felt that I should talk to him. I felt that he was listening, although I didn't feel that 'incoming call' energy." I also remembered suddenly finding it hilarious that he once took me to see the movie The Haunting. I'd asked him playfully, giggling as I was falling asleep,
"Did you really take me to see a ghost movie?"
At which point, my demons had remarked,
"How ironic! How prophetic! How humorous!"
I had drifted off to sleep smiling about that memory.
It was the first movie we'd gone to see together, and I remembered that both of us had done that thing where you strategically place your hand; you know, making it available, just in case the other person should want to hold it. I had looked at him several times, wondering if he was going to make a move; and each time, he'd only smiled back at me. After a while, I'd stroked the back of his hand; gently, hesitantly. Then, after a moment, I'd nervously slid my fingers down between his until I was holding the back of his hand. I remembered looking at him again to see if this new, more intimate touching, this touching that said 'I like you for more than a friend,' was okay. He had smiled at me, and clasped my hand affirmatively, the right way, palm-to-palm. His smile, preserved in my memory, was sweet and genuine; and yet, at the same time, there was a hint of a proud and satisfied smirk. That was all it had taken. After that, touching each other had been easy; natural.
Once asleep, I awoke abruptly at some point in the middle of the night. I sensed energy coming from a specific location again. I was barely awake, and not completely coherent; but I remember that much clearly, about sensing the energy, and I'm certain of it. This energy was floating above the foot of my bed. I sensed the presence of two different beings, and neither of them were any of my regular demons, who were beside the bed. I sat up, and for some reason, I blurted out,
"Yes, I love A."
Then, as sort of an afterthought, I added,
"And I love Saint Michael too, but not like that."
Then I fell asleep again.
The next morning, the 18th, found me certain of what had happened; yet wondering why in hell I had said those things, true though they were. I saw pictures of boats everywhere I looked online. I had this feeling that I should "put the ring on." It wasn't a thought-transference, not really. It wasn't a direct message either. It was guidance; or influence, perhaps. I knew what it meant, though.
A Confession
It's confession time, I suppose.
I guess I'd better go ahead and come clean about something, or you will never understand the significance of the ring to which I'm referring.
In early 2021, at the climax of my first and worst demon attack, I did sorta-kinda-maybe-almost-idk marry a demon? It was with a gun to my back, though, pretty much. I told the abridged version in my first book, writing only that Johnny asked me to marry him, and I said no. Actually, there was more to it. I didn't write it all, for several reasons. For one, it was a tad bit embarrassing. Also, I was very confused at the time, and I truly still don't remember exactly what all happened or the exact order of events; though parts of those memories have gradually come back to me, some very recently. I also wanted the first book to remain clean, or rated PG, so to speak, and if I had told this story the right way, it wouldn't have. Additionally, I didn't want anyone to wrongly assume that this marriage was the cause of my situation of being demon-infested, because actually, that couldn't be farther from the truth. Whether or not it worsened the situation, I suppose is still debatable.
Most priests and exorcists would take a judgmental stance about that sort of thing. They'd say,
"She did what?! She recorded EVPs? She married a demon? Well. No wonder she has demons, then. It's her own fault."
And that's not really the truth. They claim to understand demonic influence; but that kind of attitude makes it abundantly clear that they don't. The truth, in most cases, is more like the victim did those things because they were under the influence, because they already had demons, not the other way around. I was being careful not to contribute to the propagation of that sort of misinformation. It's time now, however, for the whole truth to come out.
Therefore, an expanded version of what happened, to the best of my memory, is this:
To begin with, I was Agnostic when all of this started. I didn't know if there really was a Heaven or a Hell, but I was sensitive enough to have had some experiences with the paranormal and I believed in an afterlife. I was not a full-fledged psychic medium yet by any means. I did not understand telepathy yet. I did not yet have visions, or thought-transferences, or anything like that; not that I understood as being those things, at least. I believed that I was being haunted by a friendly spirit. This spirit eventually identified himself as A; at first, through divination tools and EVPs, and then later, when I could hear him, verbally. A compilation of my EVPs can be found on my YouTube channel, by the way, if you're interested.
I eventually became able to hear this spirit who called himself "A" speaking to me, and shortly after this, he asked me to marry him. I said yes, to A, after asking him some questions, obviously. "A" told me, basically, that this would mean that we would be married in Heaven, and that when I died we could be together; but he wanted our commitment established beforehand in case he had to go on before me. I was shocked, overwhelmed, and a little bit apprehensive, all of those things, of course, for many reasons; not the least of which was that I had just received confirmation, from a spirit, that marriage in Heaven is even possible. Keep in mind that, at the time, I thought that what was being proposed was a sort of engagement, to a man I actually knew, who had been a love interest in the past, okay? It's just that, he happened to have died already; but aside from that, it's not really all that weird, is it?
So, I said yes, to A.
And, I'll add that while I was likely under some influence, that was, at least mostly, a free will choice.
The next thing I knew, however, he was telling me that he was not A, and that he was actually a demon, and everything went downhill from that point. Then there was a scene in my kitchen, where I was literally being pushed around by demons, and the loud ringing in my ears had started, and I didn't know what the fuck was going on, and someone was asking me if I had a ring.
Well, I did have a ring. I had engagement, wedding, and anniversary rings from my marriage with Lee; and I also had an engagement ring, and a wedding ring, already bought, from my broken engagement with Jorge. Since I never got to wear the engagement ring from the Jorge situation for very long, and I never got to wear that wedding ring at all, I chose to use those. I was confused, though, very. I was semi-aware that there were several spirits present, and I no longer knew whether or not any of them were actually A. I remember asking,
"What does this mean?"
"What will happen?!"
and asserting,
"I'm not marrying you if you're not A!"
I also remember shrieking,
"What is that noise?!"
Then someone, whom I thought was A, responded,
"What noise?"
"The ringing in my ears!" I exclaimed.
"Your ears are ringing? Right now?" he asked. Then he said,
"That's them. They're trying to cut this off. I gotta get outta here."
"Did you really take me to see a ghost movie?"
At which point, my demons had remarked,
"How ironic! How prophetic! How humorous!"
I had drifted off to sleep smiling about that memory.
It was the first movie we'd gone to see together, and I remembered that both of us had done that thing where you strategically place your hand; you know, making it available, just in case the other person should want to hold it. I had looked at him several times, wondering if he was going to make a move; and each time, he'd only smiled back at me. After a while, I'd stroked the back of his hand; gently, hesitantly. Then, after a moment, I'd nervously slid my fingers down between his until I was holding the back of his hand. I remembered looking at him again to see if this new, more intimate touching, this touching that said 'I like you for more than a friend,' was okay. He had smiled at me, and clasped my hand affirmatively, the right way, palm-to-palm. His smile, preserved in my memory, was sweet and genuine; and yet, at the same time, there was a hint of a proud and satisfied smirk. That was all it had taken. After that, touching each other had been easy; natural.
Once asleep, I awoke abruptly at some point in the middle of the night. I sensed energy coming from a specific location again. I was barely awake, and not completely coherent; but I remember that much clearly, about sensing the energy, and I'm certain of it. This energy was floating above the foot of my bed. I sensed the presence of two different beings, and neither of them were any of my regular demons, who were beside the bed. I sat up, and for some reason, I blurted out,
"Yes, I love A."
Then, as sort of an afterthought, I added,
"And I love Saint Michael too, but not like that."
Then I fell asleep again.
The next morning, the 18th, found me certain of what had happened; yet wondering why in hell I had said those things, true though they were. I saw pictures of boats everywhere I looked online. I had this feeling that I should "put the ring on." It wasn't a thought-transference, not really. It wasn't a direct message either. It was guidance; or influence, perhaps. I knew what it meant, though.
A Confession
It's confession time, I suppose.
I guess I'd better go ahead and come clean about something, or you will never understand the significance of the ring to which I'm referring.
In early 2021, at the climax of my first and worst demon attack, I did sorta-kinda-maybe-almost-idk marry a demon? It was with a gun to my back, though, pretty much. I told the abridged version in my first book, writing only that Johnny asked me to marry him, and I said no. Actually, there was more to it. I didn't write it all, for several reasons. For one, it was a tad bit embarrassing. Also, I was very confused at the time, and I truly still don't remember exactly what all happened or the exact order of events; though parts of those memories have gradually come back to me, some very recently. I also wanted the first book to remain clean, or rated PG, so to speak, and if I had told this story the right way, it wouldn't have. Additionally, I didn't want anyone to wrongly assume that this marriage was the cause of my situation of being demon-infested, because actually, that couldn't be farther from the truth. Whether or not it worsened the situation, I suppose is still debatable.
Most priests and exorcists would take a judgmental stance about that sort of thing. They'd say,
"She did what?! She recorded EVPs? She married a demon? Well. No wonder she has demons, then. It's her own fault."
And that's not really the truth. They claim to understand demonic influence; but that kind of attitude makes it abundantly clear that they don't. The truth, in most cases, is more like the victim did those things because they were under the influence, because they already had demons, not the other way around. I was being careful not to contribute to the propagation of that sort of misinformation. It's time now, however, for the whole truth to come out.
Therefore, an expanded version of what happened, to the best of my memory, is this:
To begin with, I was Agnostic when all of this started. I didn't know if there really was a Heaven or a Hell, but I was sensitive enough to have had some experiences with the paranormal and I believed in an afterlife. I was not a full-fledged psychic medium yet by any means. I did not understand telepathy yet. I did not yet have visions, or thought-transferences, or anything like that; not that I understood as being those things, at least. I believed that I was being haunted by a friendly spirit. This spirit eventually identified himself as A; at first, through divination tools and EVPs, and then later, when I could hear him, verbally. A compilation of my EVPs can be found on my YouTube channel, by the way, if you're interested.
I eventually became able to hear this spirit who called himself "A" speaking to me, and shortly after this, he asked me to marry him. I said yes, to A, after asking him some questions, obviously. "A" told me, basically, that this would mean that we would be married in Heaven, and that when I died we could be together; but he wanted our commitment established beforehand in case he had to go on before me. I was shocked, overwhelmed, and a little bit apprehensive, all of those things, of course, for many reasons; not the least of which was that I had just received confirmation, from a spirit, that marriage in Heaven is even possible. Keep in mind that, at the time, I thought that what was being proposed was a sort of engagement, to a man I actually knew, who had been a love interest in the past, okay? It's just that, he happened to have died already; but aside from that, it's not really all that weird, is it?
So, I said yes, to A.
And, I'll add that while I was likely under some influence, that was, at least mostly, a free will choice.
The next thing I knew, however, he was telling me that he was not A, and that he was actually a demon, and everything went downhill from that point. Then there was a scene in my kitchen, where I was literally being pushed around by demons, and the loud ringing in my ears had started, and I didn't know what the fuck was going on, and someone was asking me if I had a ring.
Well, I did have a ring. I had engagement, wedding, and anniversary rings from my marriage with Lee; and I also had an engagement ring, and a wedding ring, already bought, from my broken engagement with Jorge. Since I never got to wear the engagement ring from the Jorge situation for very long, and I never got to wear that wedding ring at all, I chose to use those. I was confused, though, very. I was semi-aware that there were several spirits present, and I no longer knew whether or not any of them were actually A. I remember asking,
"What does this mean?"
"What will happen?!"
and asserting,
"I'm not marrying you if you're not A!"
I also remember shrieking,
"What is that noise?!"
Then someone, whom I thought was A, responded,
"What noise?"
"The ringing in my ears!" I exclaimed.
"Your ears are ringing? Right now?" he asked. Then he said,
"That's them. They're trying to cut this off. I gotta get outta here."
The next thing I remember is that someone, whom I thought, at the time, was A, told me to put on the engagement ring, and lay the wedding ring on the countertop. He said he'd take the wedding ring with him to Heaven. He had previously said, when we'd first discussed this, before all the craziness had started, and before he'd told me that he was a demon,
"I don't have to have a ring, because I am not a living person."
At that time, however, he was saying that he'd take the wedding ring. When I asked how, he said that it would be like an astral copy; he'd have one just like it.
Then he told me to pray to God, telling Him that I wanted to marry him, and to say that I take him to be my lawfully wedded husband. He was saying something about marriage in Heaven, marriage on Earth, and marriage in Hell, but I didn't comprehend it. Then he was saying, again, that he was not A! He told me to give his name --his full name-- when I made that prayer request, but then he said that he was not A, and he gave me some other first name, which I've now forgotten. When I asked what his full name was, he said that he couldn't tell me, and that the first name he'd given me wasn't even his real name. I was so confused.
These spirits seemed to have a sense of urgency, as if they didn't have time to explain it to me, as if this was the moment, now or never! I couldn't tell them apart yet by voice, and I couldn't see them, not clearly, but I could sense where they were in the room. I could almost see their shapes, their transparent outlines. There were at least two, standing on either side of me. One of them had hold of my arm. They were looking up at a certain spot on the ceiling. It felt as if a portal had opened there or something, and they were seeing what was going on, although I could see nothing. They were telling me,
"You'd better do it! Right now!"
I had this sinking feeling that I was selling my soul, which is not actually possible, at least not irrevocably, but I also felt that these guys, whoever they were, were going to make me do it. The next time they commanded,
"Do it! Now!"
I blurted out,
"I take [A's full name] to be my lawfully wedded husband!"
Then someone said,
"That was smart."
I definitely feel that I was made to forget the details; as in, it's more like parts of my memory was erased, than like I merely forgot because it was a traumatic experience, although it was that also. I still don't remember well what happened after that; but I know that soon after that point, for a while anyway, my house was clear. There were no spirits physically here anymore; but I could hear them. They were tapped into my mind somehow.
I remember some bullshit ensuing, where, sometime during one of several hours-long stints of torment (once it was 22 straight hours) someone who claimed to be "Jesus" commanded me alternately to,
"Take the ring off!"
and,
"Put the ring on!"
I can't remember the exact circumstances. I can't remember the reasons why I was being ordered to take the ring off and put it back on; but I remember not wanting to take it off, if it meant that I was engaged... or married... to A. At one point, they made the ring burn my finger until I took it off. My finger wasn't actually harmed though; it was merely an illusory sensation. I was stubborn. I kept putting it back on until someone, whom they had convinced me was A, told me to take it off. He said it was over. He said he didn't want me anymore. I didn't believe him, but I did what he said.
During the torture prior to that, however, sometimes I was told that I was talking to A; other times, the person I was talking to claimed to be God, Jesus, "all the demons in Hell," or someone else. It was literally a booming voice from "Heaven," or from the ceiling, at least. It was during this days-long initial onslaught that I hallucinated once for an entire day, seeing "ghosts" everywhere. That was also when "Jesus" was telling me to do all sorts of stupid stuff, like throw my vitamins away. He told me to throw my family pictures away too, because,
"You shouldn't be thinking about dead people. If you think about dead people, they'll know."
Somewhere in there, I also remember being told to never think about A again.
Looking back, I realize now that I felt that "energy coming from a certain location" then too. I had felt that I needed to look at a certain area of the ceiling when I was addressing "Jesus."
(I don't think its actually a portal opening up; at least not as most people think of a portal. I think it's just where they are at the time, or how they're representing themselves, as in, they were projecting a visual of speaking to me through a portal.)
This "Jesus" kept offering me chances to go to Heaven, and then ripping them out from beneath me. The scenario was always that there was some deal, but I'd say or do something wrong, and then he would be like,
"Oh! Oh, no, you've fucked up now. Now you'll have to go to Hell."
That was the theme anyway. There was another theme, though; that all my chances had something to do with my giving up either my pets or A. They were attacking the things I loved. The deals would be something like,
"You can still go to Heaven, but you will not get to be with your pets,"
Or,
"You can still go to Heaven, but you will not get to be with A; he'll be in a different part of Heaven. You won't get to see him."
Some of the time, I was being told that "A" was there with them, and that he was one of my torturers. It felt as if they were floating somewhere above me, near the ceiling, in a certain location, always. I couldn't actually see them, not with my eyes, but I could almost see them in my mind's eye. I could "see" where they were "seated." What I "saw," in what I now know to have been visions, reminded me of a talk show, when someone joins the conversation via satellite, and they're shown on a TV screen, seated behind a desk or something. "Jesus" would be on the left, and "A" would be seated on the right. One of the themes in that line of torture was that "Jesus" would say things like,
"We've got your husband here, and he doesn't like something about you..."
I had figured out pretty early into this that they could read my mind. I didn't understand yet that they could also insert pictures into it.
Once they taunted me with this act,
"Your husband's getting pissed off, because he thinks that you think about Brad (my boss from the factory) too much. Why do you keep thinking about Brad?"
"I don't..." I began, but as soon as I'd said that, my mind was flooded with pictures of Brad. I didn't know where they were coming from. I knew that I hadn't actually conjured them up, but I didn't understand what was happening. When I received that barrage of mental images, they immediately jumped on it, saying,
"Oh? Oh no? Oh, what was that? It looks as if you were just thinking about Brad!"
"I don't have to have a ring, because I am not a living person."
At that time, however, he was saying that he'd take the wedding ring. When I asked how, he said that it would be like an astral copy; he'd have one just like it.
Then he told me to pray to God, telling Him that I wanted to marry him, and to say that I take him to be my lawfully wedded husband. He was saying something about marriage in Heaven, marriage on Earth, and marriage in Hell, but I didn't comprehend it. Then he was saying, again, that he was not A! He told me to give his name --his full name-- when I made that prayer request, but then he said that he was not A, and he gave me some other first name, which I've now forgotten. When I asked what his full name was, he said that he couldn't tell me, and that the first name he'd given me wasn't even his real name. I was so confused.
These spirits seemed to have a sense of urgency, as if they didn't have time to explain it to me, as if this was the moment, now or never! I couldn't tell them apart yet by voice, and I couldn't see them, not clearly, but I could sense where they were in the room. I could almost see their shapes, their transparent outlines. There were at least two, standing on either side of me. One of them had hold of my arm. They were looking up at a certain spot on the ceiling. It felt as if a portal had opened there or something, and they were seeing what was going on, although I could see nothing. They were telling me,
"You'd better do it! Right now!"
I had this sinking feeling that I was selling my soul, which is not actually possible, at least not irrevocably, but I also felt that these guys, whoever they were, were going to make me do it. The next time they commanded,
"Do it! Now!"
I blurted out,
"I take [A's full name] to be my lawfully wedded husband!"
Then someone said,
"That was smart."
I definitely feel that I was made to forget the details; as in, it's more like parts of my memory was erased, than like I merely forgot because it was a traumatic experience, although it was that also. I still don't remember well what happened after that; but I know that soon after that point, for a while anyway, my house was clear. There were no spirits physically here anymore; but I could hear them. They were tapped into my mind somehow.
I remember some bullshit ensuing, where, sometime during one of several hours-long stints of torment (once it was 22 straight hours) someone who claimed to be "Jesus" commanded me alternately to,
"Take the ring off!"
and,
"Put the ring on!"
I can't remember the exact circumstances. I can't remember the reasons why I was being ordered to take the ring off and put it back on; but I remember not wanting to take it off, if it meant that I was engaged... or married... to A. At one point, they made the ring burn my finger until I took it off. My finger wasn't actually harmed though; it was merely an illusory sensation. I was stubborn. I kept putting it back on until someone, whom they had convinced me was A, told me to take it off. He said it was over. He said he didn't want me anymore. I didn't believe him, but I did what he said.
During the torture prior to that, however, sometimes I was told that I was talking to A; other times, the person I was talking to claimed to be God, Jesus, "all the demons in Hell," or someone else. It was literally a booming voice from "Heaven," or from the ceiling, at least. It was during this days-long initial onslaught that I hallucinated once for an entire day, seeing "ghosts" everywhere. That was also when "Jesus" was telling me to do all sorts of stupid stuff, like throw my vitamins away. He told me to throw my family pictures away too, because,
"You shouldn't be thinking about dead people. If you think about dead people, they'll know."
Somewhere in there, I also remember being told to never think about A again.
Looking back, I realize now that I felt that "energy coming from a certain location" then too. I had felt that I needed to look at a certain area of the ceiling when I was addressing "Jesus."
(I don't think its actually a portal opening up; at least not as most people think of a portal. I think it's just where they are at the time, or how they're representing themselves, as in, they were projecting a visual of speaking to me through a portal.)
This "Jesus" kept offering me chances to go to Heaven, and then ripping them out from beneath me. The scenario was always that there was some deal, but I'd say or do something wrong, and then he would be like,
"Oh! Oh, no, you've fucked up now. Now you'll have to go to Hell."
That was the theme anyway. There was another theme, though; that all my chances had something to do with my giving up either my pets or A. They were attacking the things I loved. The deals would be something like,
"You can still go to Heaven, but you will not get to be with your pets,"
Or,
"You can still go to Heaven, but you will not get to be with A; he'll be in a different part of Heaven. You won't get to see him."
Some of the time, I was being told that "A" was there with them, and that he was one of my torturers. It felt as if they were floating somewhere above me, near the ceiling, in a certain location, always. I couldn't actually see them, not with my eyes, but I could almost see them in my mind's eye. I could "see" where they were "seated." What I "saw," in what I now know to have been visions, reminded me of a talk show, when someone joins the conversation via satellite, and they're shown on a TV screen, seated behind a desk or something. "Jesus" would be on the left, and "A" would be seated on the right. One of the themes in that line of torture was that "Jesus" would say things like,
"We've got your husband here, and he doesn't like something about you..."
I had figured out pretty early into this that they could read my mind. I didn't understand yet that they could also insert pictures into it.
Once they taunted me with this act,
"Your husband's getting pissed off, because he thinks that you think about Brad (my boss from the factory) too much. Why do you keep thinking about Brad?"
"I don't..." I began, but as soon as I'd said that, my mind was flooded with pictures of Brad. I didn't know where they were coming from. I knew that I hadn't actually conjured them up, but I didn't understand what was happening. When I received that barrage of mental images, they immediately jumped on it, saying,
"Oh? Oh no? Oh, what was that? It looks as if you were just thinking about Brad!"
Much of the time it was some stupid, benign-seeming ridicule like that, but other times the things they tormented me about were much more cruel. They'd target any embarrassing memory; replaying it, and rehashing the details. A lot of the torture seemed to be centered around making fun of me in some way for agreeing to marry A. I thought that had probably been the point; that it was an embarrassing thing to make me do, and they'd done it just so they could laugh at me for it. Either that, or they'd done it to try to guilt-trip me; to make me feel that I'd committed some unforgivable sin. Still, even these more benign forms of torture were an invasion. It was, and still is, mind rape, 24/7/365. Besides that, merely being yelled at for hours on end is quite abusive, in and of itself.
There were a few instances in which I heard "A" taking up for me, or else I was informed that he had. At least once, when they were saying that something I'd done had offended my husband, I remember hearing the voice that was supposed to be his saying,
"Okay guys, I really don't care that much... Let's just move on from that subject..."
They, "Jesus" and whomever, told me that A was the one who called an end to the 22-hour session. I didn't hear him speaking then, but I remember them telling me,
"Your husband says you've had enough, and we should let you sleep."
Surprisingly, they actually apologized later, saying, as "Jesus" still,
"We are sorry. We didn't realize we'd kept you for so long."
I don't think I said anything in response. What was I going to say? That it was okay?
After a moment, they continued,
"Yes. We just apologized to you. It's rare, but sometimes we do."
They'd come back, always, after being away for a while. A little later on, or the next day, they'd be back, with something evil. Even when there was only one voice speaking to me, "Jesus" referred to himself plurally. One of the things they liked to do was make me take showers. The point, I knew, was only to get me naked. I could've said no, but they would've raged for hours in retaliation; and eventually I'd need to take a shower anyway. They didn't merely watch; they made comments about my body the entire time, usually negative ones. They assured me that they'd be watching and laughing every time I ever took my clothes off, for the rest of my life. Even when I was old and had saggy tits, they confirmed; they'd be watching, and they'd really be laughing then.
At one point they told me,
"Your pets will be reincarnated, so that they can have a better mother next time."
Yes, those piece of shit bastards told me that. It sounds like high school bullying, perhaps, and that's not a bad comparison. It wasn't so much what they said, or that it hurt my feelings; that wasn't the traumatic part. It was more the shock of having my first close encounter with the paranormal, which had begun as a pleasant experience, to transform so quickly into cruelty. It was the helplessness of the situation; that at any given moment, day or night, a booming voice from the sky, claiming to be Jesus, could start ordering me around and being verbally abusive. It was the thought that these might be the people we encounter when we die. It was also that I had been "gifted" with telepathy, at the very beginning of this torment; and suddenly these people or gods or whatever they were, were in my mind. Nothing was private, and they were not friendly.
They finally admitted to being demons, after a while, after I started standing up to them, but then they told me that Heaven wouldn't take me anymore "because of what I had done." Marrying a dead person, they claimed, was forbidden. Then they said that if I didn't do whatever they wanted, at any time, that Hell wouldn't take me either.
"Do you know what that means?" they'd taunted. "That means that when you die, you'll just be in the ground. You'll be trapped in your coffin, decomposing; but you'll be awake, you'll know about it, and you'll still be hearing this shit right here, and there won't be anywhere for you to go. You'll just be in the ground... forever."
I didn't know at the time whether I believed that or not. I honestly didn't give a crap either.
Later, I was told that A had never been there, or here, that the one I'd thought was A had been an impostor, and that I was, in fact, married to no one. I'm not sure what changed, but something must've happened behind the scenes at some point. Eventually, I got stuck, telepathically, with "Johnny." He was a mean asshole too, but at least he clarified that he was definitely not A. He said he was the one who had been living with me before, and the one who had first asked me to marry him. Johnny claimed to be talking to me from Hell. I could discern, even then, that he was not physically present. I don't think I was ever physically touched during that phase; and I never caught a glimpse of him.
There were a few instances in which I heard "A" taking up for me, or else I was informed that he had. At least once, when they were saying that something I'd done had offended my husband, I remember hearing the voice that was supposed to be his saying,
"Okay guys, I really don't care that much... Let's just move on from that subject..."
They, "Jesus" and whomever, told me that A was the one who called an end to the 22-hour session. I didn't hear him speaking then, but I remember them telling me,
"Your husband says you've had enough, and we should let you sleep."
Surprisingly, they actually apologized later, saying, as "Jesus" still,
"We are sorry. We didn't realize we'd kept you for so long."
I don't think I said anything in response. What was I going to say? That it was okay?
After a moment, they continued,
"Yes. We just apologized to you. It's rare, but sometimes we do."
They'd come back, always, after being away for a while. A little later on, or the next day, they'd be back, with something evil. Even when there was only one voice speaking to me, "Jesus" referred to himself plurally. One of the things they liked to do was make me take showers. The point, I knew, was only to get me naked. I could've said no, but they would've raged for hours in retaliation; and eventually I'd need to take a shower anyway. They didn't merely watch; they made comments about my body the entire time, usually negative ones. They assured me that they'd be watching and laughing every time I ever took my clothes off, for the rest of my life. Even when I was old and had saggy tits, they confirmed; they'd be watching, and they'd really be laughing then.
At one point they told me,
"Your pets will be reincarnated, so that they can have a better mother next time."
Yes, those piece of shit bastards told me that. It sounds like high school bullying, perhaps, and that's not a bad comparison. It wasn't so much what they said, or that it hurt my feelings; that wasn't the traumatic part. It was more the shock of having my first close encounter with the paranormal, which had begun as a pleasant experience, to transform so quickly into cruelty. It was the helplessness of the situation; that at any given moment, day or night, a booming voice from the sky, claiming to be Jesus, could start ordering me around and being verbally abusive. It was the thought that these might be the people we encounter when we die. It was also that I had been "gifted" with telepathy, at the very beginning of this torment; and suddenly these people or gods or whatever they were, were in my mind. Nothing was private, and they were not friendly.
They finally admitted to being demons, after a while, after I started standing up to them, but then they told me that Heaven wouldn't take me anymore "because of what I had done." Marrying a dead person, they claimed, was forbidden. Then they said that if I didn't do whatever they wanted, at any time, that Hell wouldn't take me either.
"Do you know what that means?" they'd taunted. "That means that when you die, you'll just be in the ground. You'll be trapped in your coffin, decomposing; but you'll be awake, you'll know about it, and you'll still be hearing this shit right here, and there won't be anywhere for you to go. You'll just be in the ground... forever."
I didn't know at the time whether I believed that or not. I honestly didn't give a crap either.
Later, I was told that A had never been there, or here, that the one I'd thought was A had been an impostor, and that I was, in fact, married to no one. I'm not sure what changed, but something must've happened behind the scenes at some point. Eventually, I got stuck, telepathically, with "Johnny." He was a mean asshole too, but at least he clarified that he was definitely not A. He said he was the one who had been living with me before, and the one who had first asked me to marry him. Johnny claimed to be talking to me from Hell. I could discern, even then, that he was not physically present. I don't think I was ever physically touched during that phase; and I never caught a glimpse of him.
Johnny was sweet to me sometimes. He sort of assumed the lovestruck admirer's role. He'd tell me, for example, that he wished he could come snuggle with me, and other not-very-demon-like things. He would have a conversation with me, sometimes; a real conversation, one that wasn't very torturous. He'd flip the switch before too long though, and tell me that I would marry him, and that I would go to Hell for doing so, and that he was going to torture me until I agreed to it. Then he'd say, as I was falling asleep,
"All you have to do to get snuggles every night is say you'll marry me." I didn't hear from "Psycho Jesus" anymore, but Johnny assured me that all my thoughts, as well as a video stream of everything I did, was being broadcast to all the demons in Hell. It was not until sometime after that, I realize now, that I was once again "attached" to demons who were physically present in my house.
So, perhaps you can see now why I had been too embarrassed to talk to A for the 18 months following those events. I thought that he had probably been in Heaven that entire time, looking down at me, and thinking,
"What the fudruckers...?"
I've been told by some spirits, including my current regular demons, since then, that those were real demons, aristocratic demons, who were messing with me back then, at least during those days immediately following the wedding. I was told that they're the only ones who could make the ring burn my finger, and who could have a strong enough degree of mind control to make me hallucinate that intensely. My regular demons also told me, after I wrote this section,
"That was Hell that you went through back then. Psychological torture; that's what Satan does. That was way more Hell than most human beings ever have to experience, and you didn't deserve it."
A group gathered while I was writing this; my demons plus several extra visitors. We do have visitors, sometimes; even regular visitors. I may not know how many, exactly, but I'll sense that more people are present. The only visitor who usually speaks to me is a woman, and she speaks out loud, as opposed to telepathically. They were interested in this story, but they were not making fun of me. Surprisingly, they were supportive. It was a bit strange to me that my demons seemed not to know what had happened to me back then. I would've thought they'd read about it in my files already, but I guess they hadn't.
Marriage proposals, as it turns out, are a common theme with demons. The Chinese know it, and in the past, they even arranged ghost marriages. Africans know it; some of the exorcism prayers I tried in those early days were African prayers for the removal of a spirit spouse. Since it happened to me, I've read accounts online from seven other women who've been proposed to by a spirit, or actually married one, although none of those accounts described being tortured like I was afterwards. I never, in all the following 18 months --as I went through RCIA and confirmed Catholic, studied this topic indepthly, wrote and published a book, and became a sort of online minister-- figured out what the deal was with that. I kept wondering,
"Why do demons keep asking women to marry them?"
Unless it was, as I had theorized, some sort of joke, I remained, for all that time, at a loss for an answer.
So, anyway, as I was saying, that morning I was getting a feeling that I should "put the ring on," and I knew exactly what it meant. I didn't put it on, though.
Later that day, the thought,
"Military strategy," was sent to me.
I did not know yet what that meant.
I had been thinking a lot about why Heavenly beings don't "talk," as in speak, to us, at least not much, and not audibly. I wondered if there was some agreement in place, or perhaps, it was more like a gag order. I was thinking a lot about Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics. This had stemmed partially from reading Ancient Christian Magic, and partially from my tarot card readings. The similarities between reading tarot cards and interpreting the symbolism in that vision from A was not lost on me. I had also noted that the strategically placed memes on social media, when they didn't include words, at least, were very much the same thing; looking at a picture, and understanding something from it.
Hieroglyphics, however, had really sparked my interest, in light of all these new developments. A picture language, that did not have a vocalization. With a little research, I found that there was some kind of vocalized Ancient Egyptian language, but it was separate entirely, and has now been lost.
Why would anyone invent an unspoken picture language?
Was it a language created by people who don't talk?
Or by people trying to communicate with people who don't talk?
Or by people trying to communicate with speakers of another language?
Or by people for whom the use of words had been forbidden?
Or was it a language that was invented to be transmitted telepathically, in visions?
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