Some Things I Can't Explain

NOTE: This post has graphic content.

Recently I made a post on my blog requesting prayers for a survivor of ritualistic abuse. It may have sounded out of character for me since I tend to not post about the spirituals aspects of satanism. I do that because I know that a lot of people might be turned off by it and unable to hear the message here.

There are many things that I cannot explain that happened to me during that time in my life. Being one of those "logical" thinkers, I have a need to be able to explain everything. If I can't explain it in some way, shape or form, then I usually don't talk about it. And I'd really like not to believe it. But when it comes to this, I know what I experienced.

I have posted before about my feelings about God and spirituality.in What Has God Got to Do with It?
But I have not posted about the strange things that I encountered in cult activity. Strange meaning those things that I cannot explain.

Maybe part of the reason that I don't talk about it is I think that people won't believe me if I can't explain it. Heck sometimes it's hard for me to believe it so why should I expect others to do something I am struggling with.

The thing that changes all of that for me is the fact that there are still people out there trying to get free from cult involvement. I know how complicated getting free from cult influence can be. If I can do something to help those people then I am willing to do so even if it means some turmoil here.

What does this have to do with my response to a survivor requesting prayers? Well, it's about those things I can't explain. So instead of trying to, I'm going to tell you about my experience.

On Halloween night when I was seven years old, I was laid upon a marble alter. There were golden candelabras everywhere with long black tapers. On each candle was a golden medallion with the sign of the beast in the center. Sitting on an elevated throne overlooking the altar was a red robed figure around his neck hung a larger version of the same medallion.

There had been two weeks of ceremonies leading up to this celebration in honor of this "creature" and his "child." The ceremony being performed was the final step into the "adoption" of that "child."

Putting two and two together, you might already know that "that child" was me. I had been selected at the age of two for a particular placement within the cult. The five years that I had spent involved were an elaborate training process to ready me for my role as his successor.

Obviously, I wasn't going to take over as a child. My training was going to take a lifetime. There were stages that I was to go through along the way before I actually reached his exalted (their term, not mine) position. There were particular anniversary dates where I was to return for my "official" moves up the ladder. This Halloween night in 1954 was the second step in that series of extraordinary rituals.

But what I want to talk about here isn't the ladder or what my role was to be. The only reason I have told you that part is because it is significant to what happened to me that night. The authority of the cloaked figure and what my relationship to him was to be were the reasons for this particular ritual. The power used was dictated by his authority

At one point in the ceremony, there was a pronouncement committing my soul. I remember something about "the image and likeness of' before my soul was mentioned but frankly most the words are a blur. What isn't a blur is the blackness that over took me and seemed to infiltrate my very being as the word "soul" was spoken. My mind and body were flooded with powerful sensations.

Even now when I think about it, the goosebumps raise, my hair stands on end and the revulsion boils up in the pit of my stomach. The darkness was so black, the emptiness so empty, the chill so frigid. There is no doubt in my mind that nothing less that sheer, pure evil was taking over every part of me, clear through to my immortal soul.

I don't say these works lightly. The evil had a feeling, a smell, a weight, I can't even think of all the ways to describe its presence. I could feel the death, desperation and despair and all manner of hopelessness and evil that belongs in the pits of hell. I don't think I will ever be able to describe it in a way that seems adequate for what I experienced.

I can tell you that even at seven years old, I knew instantly I was making the decision of my life. All of my programming was supposed to make sure that I chose the darkness. But I did not. I screamed out for God.

As the words fell from my lips, the darkness fled and the cult erupted in chaos. That "creature" that I was to replace jumped to his feet, grabbed me from the altar and tossed me aside. Demanding the names of each and every person involved in my programming, he ranted about how he'd been disgraced as the area disintegrated into bedlam.

But again, I don't want to get off onto all of this. What I want you to understand, is that what I experienced was an actual spiritual assault. I can't explain how or why I know that I just do. It was not a trick fabricated by the cult to terrorize me. With every fiber of my being I know that it was the real thing.

I have experienced it once again since that night. On the day that I abreacted this memory, I was assaulted again. Like there was some kind of portal that allowed the evil access to my soul once again. It was the same but it was different.

"It" had knowledge of my entire life. Voices and darkness and haunting flashes perverted to convince me to change my choice. As sure as I am of my name, my age, my children, my passion for Arabian horses, I am sure that my soul was the target of those attacks. And I am sure, that all of this is real.

So when I tell you I know what one human being can do to another or how "evil" human beings can be, I tell you because I know how pure evil feels. I have experienced evil in its most dangerous form.
Because of this, I know if a survivor says she/he needs prayers the request needs to be honored. I know the fight is probably going to be much bigger than anything ever imagined. The survivor's very soul can be at stake.

multiple personality disorder MPD dissociative Identity disorder did ritualistic abuse satanism