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Dear God,
I am sad and very lonely. It feels like the end of the world for me, like I’m not strong enough to stay faithful to you. I’m not strong enough to fight the temptations of witchcraft and the Devil, which haunt my life. I’m scared. I feel helpless. I don’t know how to stop myself from this powerful urge to dabble into witchcraft.
I grew up with a controlling mother, who became extremely angry if I didn’t quite obey her or made a mistake. She praised me very little when I accomplished something well, and she always criticized me on my appearance. I grew up eager to please people, afraid to be a failure, tried to meet high expectations by being the best at everything in school, and I was obsessed with appearing beautiful.
I was so absorbed with the ideal image of being perfect that I pretended I didn’t wear hearing aids, that I didn’t have a hearing loss. I had a horrible time accepting myself as hearing-impaired, and I was afraid of what other people thought of me, since I was different, so a lot of times I wore my hair down to conceal my ears and hearing aids. I was a loner in middle school and high school, deprived of friendship at all, and as I walked through the school hallways with a look of either anger or sadness my peers would move out of the way as I passed. They probably thought I was a freak.
“I wish I could hear like everyone else,” I thought in anguish, as I was the first and only deaf girl in my entire school. That’s when I turned to witchcraft for the first time when I was thirteen years old. Having born with hearing loss with the doctors not knowing what caused the problem, I wanted to find a cure to heal my hearing. My hearing loss was never cured, but somehow I got pulled deeper and deeper into witchcraft and the occult.
Eventually, my mom found out about me practicing witchcraft, and she was livid. She threatened me with hellfire, and I was frightened back into Christianity. I lived in fear all my life, feeling the allure of witchcraft beckoning me but at the same time not wanting to anger my mother. Every time I dabbled in witchcraft, she caught me, we had horrible verbal fights, which sometimes became physical, and she disowned me as her daughter and thought I was demon-possessed. One time, she was so furious that she wrapped her hands around my throat as if she was going to choke me, I screamed and kicked her away, and she smiled and said, “Just kidding.”
Time and time again, I involved myself in witchcraft. I couldn’t stop myself. It was like a drug, an addiction. I also had other issues, such as isolation, depression, social anxiety, and suppressed anger. I ran away from home in 8th grade, snuck into the boy’s restroom and set fire to the trash can at school when I was a freshman in high school, the principal found out about the fire incident when I was a junior by some anonymous letter sent to him (it was like I had a stalker, or something), and he sent me home for a few months on a sick leave to psychologically get better, again I got sent home for a few months for a emotional health sick leave in my senior year for fighting against the teachers, yelling at the students, and refusing to do the work.
During my senior year, I met a demon named Calisai. She was almost like an alter ego, since I invited her into my life to influence me. She was my role model. I wanted to be what Calisai was: confident, fearless, aggressive and got whatever she wanted, strong, calm, cool, and collected. She was a mermaid with very fair skin, long, wavy blonde hair, green eyes, and a silver tail. With Calisai, I felt secure and powerful. I could do anything. I was God. Yet, Calisai influenced my behavior by making me feel hatred toward people and distancing myself from them. “You don’t need humans to make you happy,” she convinced me. “Only I can bring you happiness.” Through Calisai, I had visions of her, of past lives, and once when someone asked me if her boyfriend was cheating on her I had a vision of a blonde girl named Rebecca, someone I didn’t know and have never met. “Oh my gosh!” that girl said. “Rebecca IS blonde, and she is my boyfriend’s ex!”
I ended up going to a Baptist college and dabbling into witchcraft again. My roommate was a very strong, faithful Christian…and I wasn’t. We were good friends at first, but then I felt like I was drifting away from her and from everyone else I hung out with, my roommate seemed to hang out with a few other people more than she did with me, and I felt afraid that I was going to be treated as second-best again. In high school, I tried to make friends with some girls, but they always enjoyed hanging out with their closer friends than they did with me, which brought me feelings of bitterness, jealousy, and loneliness. I felt worthless, unimportant, and uninteresting.
That’s when I decided to tell my roommate I decided I didn’t want to be a Christian anymore. “I’m Pagan now,” I explained. I never expected my roommate (and her friend, who was with her), to give a long sermon on Jesus, which bored me to death, and then it escalated into a full-blown argument. My roommate thought I was demon-possessed (which I wasn’t) and tried to exorcise me in the name of Jesus Christ. I only grew frustrated and upset, and some part of me wanted to frighten my roommate further. I laughed like a maniac, waved my hand, and whispered in a creepy voice, “Bye-bye!” As my roommate and her friend left, my roommate told me, “Calen, I love you, but I hate whatever’s in you!” That stung. I felt terrible, and I could hardly believe what all had happened.
My roommate wouldn’t come near me at all after that incident. She wouldn’t sleep in the same room as me. I felt destructive, promising myself that if she pushed me further I would destroy her computer, throw her bed mattress to the floor, etc. and in the morning when I found her in the cafeteria, I threatened her, saying, “If you try to stop me, I will not hesitate to harm you!” I was seeing the college counselor at the time, who decided she couldn’t help me and suggested I go to a mental institution. I agreed, found myself in a mental hospital, was released, and came home with a medical withdrawal from the college. I got a job, but soon after the company went bankrupt. Now I’m at a mental recovery center, doing group therapy.
At group therapy, I’m learning a bit about myself and why the way I am. I realize I’m deprived of attention and love, and I’m looking in all the wrong places to find them. I feel like a criminal, and I’m crying right now because I want to be saved. I want to be free from my bonds. I don’t want to go to hell. All I need is love. It’s hard to find myself emotionally connected with other people because I’m emotionally detached and sometimes feel like I’m seeing reality as if it were a movie with me not a part of it. I want to feel joy.
I’m also scared. I feel Calisai’s presence is back. What’s scary is that I want her to be back. I’m craving power and strength over the rest of humanity, if it would only hide how I truly feel. I want to avoid my pain with pleasure and adrenaline.
Although I’m terrible at following God, I certainly believe in God and that Jesus died on the cross to save me from my sins. I’ve had a lot of supernatural occurrences in my life such as hearing angel voices singing. You are the one true Lord, God. I’m just worried and confused. I feel as if I’m being pulled in different directions. I’m nineteen years old, and I don’t know who I am. I want to love You and be with You as much as You love me and want to have a bond with me. I’m just struggling with occult practices. I don’t want to be a slave anymore! Please! Help me!
Calen
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