One of the things I’ve always had a healthy fear of, even though I have been guilty of it, is using psychics, mediums, and card readers. Once, going through a Dundalk farmer’s market, I was walking aimlessly, just browsing about. For a reason I didn’t understand at the time, I got to a spot where I stopped walking. I wasn’t looking at anything; I just stopped and seemed to have no idea of what surrounded me. I can’t say that it was dissociative, as I have extensive experience with that. All I can tell you is that I drew a complete blank. I don’t know how long it lasted, either. I have no idea at all.
All I can say is that when I became aware again, I was looking at a beautiful woman seated at a table. An older woman was on the edge of my vision but distanced herself because whatever brought it on, I was being seduced by the beauty of the one seated at the table. She was definitely of Mediterranean or an Eastern European descent. She had me under some kind of enchantment or spell, and it was mildly unpleasant. I was being drawn to her against my will. I didn’t notice that all sounds in the busy market had been silenced until she asked, “Would you like a reading ?”
I knew better than to have anything to do with divination. The Bible warns that such things are an abomination to God. My sister had once had a terrifying experience with two friends and an ouija bqoard. I never saw those friends of hers again. But she never told me what happened. She did get our father to throw it away. Trash collection day arrived, and while the truck was passed, she screamed. Our parents ran to her room. She was hysterical. The board was back in its place, on the shelf in her closet. Next, our father broke the board in two and smashed the pointer, or planchette. But the next collection day saw it back on her shelf in one piece. She screamed again, and even I saw it. But this time the old man had had enough. See, he didn’t like being scared. He hated showing fear even more, as if it threatened his position as head of the house. Or his “manhood.”
So on that night, a cold autumn evening, he built a nice fire in the fireplace. Again, the board “showed” its unwillingness to go. Now I can’t remember what color the flames were, but they were either blue or green, and in my mind, I seem to remember green flames consuming the thing. He even fed the box and the planchette to the fire.
It would be easy for me to add detail, but my memory only goes this far, and beyond that, it’s unreliable, and I’d be lying. I won’t do that.
What I can tell you is that evil wasn’t new to the house, but after that night, everything got worse.
Sexual abuse by both parents. Terrible abuse. Beatings no child should ever get. Verbal abuse and conditioning. I can’t speak for my 7 siblings, but I know none were left untouched. How it affected them, I can’t say. But my life has been quite messy.
I learned a lesson from those 3 screaming girls who ran screaming out of my sister’s bedroom on that dark fall afternoon. You don’t mess with the ouija. Over the years, researching the paranormal, that lesson was repeatedly reinforced.
Therefore, I have no excuse to offer as to why I sat down across from the beautiful woman and paid money for a card reading. But one thing I sensed was that the older woman was exercising power of some kind over me. I felt it, but I also knew it. It was knowledge. Intuition didn’t play any part in it. And that was scary. Really scary.
The cards came up. I was going to travel to a place I would not want to go. I was going to meet someone who would make me never want to be without her. I don’t remember anything else.
Except for the curse. Someone, she said, was very jealous of me. They had placed a curse on me. It would take 80 bucks for her to (privately) light candles and “say a few words” to break the curse.
I didn’t pay. Except, I did. Just consulting her was a grave sin. Bad things did happen, as if trouble hadn’t already dogged me enough in my life.
This is when I had my first heart attack at age 38. There’s a long list. But the point is, I’d done something, among other somethings, that brought the wrath of God and allowed demons an open door policy to harass me, which they absolutely did.
My sins were too much for me to think about. Sick things, mean things, perverted things. I’d occasionally say a prayer asking for forgiveness, but coming from a sinner who intends to keep sinning, it could only anger the Lord more. Only I didn’t see it that way. I blame no one except myself, but I have never encountered again the power I felt drawing me to that woman. And I think that the old woman had much to do with it. She was strong. But she didn’t get her power naturally. It was pure evil.
Talking to the dead
This is especially offensive to God. We’re warned not to try, yet it has become a profession. TV shows glamorize it. YouTube channels specialize in it. Foolish people go to cemeteries at night equipped with spirit boards or are accompanied by mediums. You are forbidden this, but people unaware of how evil it is,do it anyway. Some feel a thrill and fear, especially teenagers and young adults. They even do it at 03:00, an hour best spent far away from such actions and deeds. In fact, even offering gifts like flowers to the dead is a sin. Once a person is passed away, they do not hear or see you. Flowers are money wasted. The effort and the visit are not just useless, but the places of the dead hold spiritual dangers you can’t possibly know until it’s too late. When we die, there’s no way to interact with the living. People who die and have out-of-body experiences are always sure to say that they rise from their body and can even look down and see it. None ever say that they spoke to a loved one and were heard. They all say that they’re helpless to communicate. That is, until they reach their destination: heaven or hell. When they are spared, this is something the experiencer always says. Most even say that they feel their detachment and lack emotional reactions to whatever is happening.
That’s a very clear indication that you shouldn’t try talking to the departed. Should you ever get an answer when you attempt it, you will not be in contact with anything human. You have in fact opened a door to the spiritual world. If you keep going, something will come through that door. Something just for you. And you’re not going to like it.
After decades of study, I can’t cite source material, nor would I reveal the identity of anyone who may have told me a personal story. Take my words to heart. People report being attacked both spiritually and physically by unseen or shadow beings, and even atheists have felt the need to seek a priest. A spiritual attachment happens when a demon is not allowed to possess you but does have permission to attack and harass. Sometimes, this attachment is as difficult to break as an actual exorcism.
What the demons could be are lifelong followers assigned just for you or a loved one. They can briefly look like a lost loved one, and they may, in extreme cases, talk to you through a spirit board and convince you by what it knows about the departed. That demon had followed the dead person around in life, unseen. It knows things. It will hook you into asking it more, which doesn’t end well if you tell it to show itself. It will not be who you’re expecting.
Instead of the dead, concentrate on the living, who you can help through prayer, faith, and a loving heart.
I used to wonder and worry about where my children went when they died. I would pray for their souls.
This was to no avail. It’s clear that they have gone to the places they earned during life. I must accept that and not dwell on things I can’t change.
Leave the dead alone. They are far beyond your reach. Except for funerals, stay away from cemeteries and other places of the dead. Because while you live, you can make a difference in the life or lives of the living. That’s a high calling and far more worthy of your time.
Memoirs of an American Asshole 