the beginning

Where do I start.  I honestly don’t know. 

 

I could start as a child..but I dont want to bore you.  I’ll give you the abridged version. 

 

I’ve always had ‘the gift’..I could always see things.  But even more so more I could feel things.  I very early discovered the meaning of the term “the world upon your shoulders’ and the diagnosis of ‘manic depressive’.  I was highly affected by the people that surrounded me and I was often surrounded by people who drained me emotionally.  I was later to discover that these people were emotional vampires and they were drawn to me because I was an empath.  They literally sucked the energy right from me.  Even when I learned to avoid these people even well meaning people I learned affected me as well.  An empath is doomed to carry the weight of the world on his/her shoulders.  I share your pain..its how I get over mine.  I want to make you feel better.  Or I don’t want to feel at all.

 

(Photo of my real band.  That’s me on the left)

 

 

THE BEGINNING OF MY TRIALS.

I started sleeping on a sleeping bag, no furniture.  I didn’t drink much then..a six pack would last 2 weeks.  Then it started.  When I would go to bed I would start hearing voices.  ‘john..john..john’.  the voices would build until their were 30-40 voices saying my name.  I layed there frozen..it scared me to death.  Then it got worse.  The voices started saying other things..would always start with my name, then certain of them began saying ‘kill’..followed by laughter.  They would all eventually be laughing..an evil, diabolical laugh.  Makes me sick to my stomach to recall it, even now. 

God had left me, because I had abandoned Him.  

 

 

 

 

I was hopeless.  Why didn’t I ask God for help you ask?  I did..many many times.  In hindsight I realized I had more to learn from Him.  I didn’t know it at the time.  I resented his abandonment.

After my divorce was final, I got my house back.  I was looking forward to moving out of my apartment..hopefully leave this behind.  Fresh start.  Yeah..not so much.  It continued.  And it got worse.  I started getting grabbed by the ankles, and pulled on.  Being held down aggressively.  Having my pillow used to almost suffocate me.  And them them beating me so badly that I regularly got bruising and scratches from them.  I had sore ribs.  This was no fucking joke.  I felt the rage from these demons and I felt alone and powerless against them.  I looked 60, when I was only 33, from lack of sleep and constant abuse.

One night, I finally made a choice.  I’d had it.  I was under attack once again, and decided to fight to the death.  I despised these wretched abominations, and I’m going down swinging.  I stood up on my bed and ‘come on you bastards’..and literally fought demons.  literally.  I felt the punches on my body, and I actually felt when I hit them.  It was as surreal as it was tangible.  It felt like forever but I was full of rage and adrenalin.  I could have gone all night..and they knew it because just like that, it was over.  i was left standing my bed, exhausted.  victorious.  I knew it was over.  It wasn’t by my strength, but Gods.  I would make amends later.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fast forward to adulthood.  In my early 20s I was pursuing a life of music.  I lived a musicians life and found much comfort in expressing myself through songwriting.  I also partied alot..and drank alot, cuz it made me numb to the depression.  It was fantastic.  I could focus my feelings on songwriting.  I was a prolific songwriter, I wrote hundreds.  It helped me redirect my feelings to something good.

When I was 21, I was approached by a woman who I’d known when we were kids.  She was approaching me about religion.  I’ll leave the details to oblivian..but I married her, became a minister, and for 10 years lived that lifestyle.

Thats when it fell apart.  I felt the need to leave.  She had formed an attachment to another man, I fell in love with a woman who saw me.  Furthermore, I’d lost my faith..I questioned a lot of things.  I’ll spare you the details, that’s a whole other story altogether.  The ensuing stress of losing your wife, faith, and friends..your way of life..was ripe for negative activity.  I left, got an apartment and starting living again.  That’s when all hell broke loose.

I knew my guilt and I had to, quite literally, now face my demons.  The same demons I’d mocked and chastised in the name of God, who knew I no longer had His protection.  I paid for it, and I had it coming.  How do I know it was demons?  They told me so..they boasted about it. 

To keep this story short, I’ll avoid most of the details.  Suffice it to say, for the next two years I suffered torment at their merciless hands.  Every single night they were waiting for me.  Things got progressively worse.  I started drinking..a lot.  To cope.  I dreaded going to sleep..they always got you at the twilght between being awake and asleep.  I found if I drank enough I could skip this twilight and sleep heavily enough to miss them altogether.  It worked a few times, but at what cost?  I think they enjoyed me being hung over the next day at work.  And every time I was successful the situation got ramped up for next time.  I remember one night I woke up to my room being completely red..and it was shaking like a violent earthquake, the demons were screaming.  It was so bad and I was so scared that I actually opened my window to the outside, kicked out the screen and jumped out head first into a shrubbery outside. 

 

 

 

 

I will leave it there.  There is so much I left out..maybe I’ll write a novel one day or maybe I will just take it to my grave.  Something for only God and I to share.  If you don’t believe this account is 100 percent real, it’s ok.  Hard to believe for someone who’s never been touched by the paranormal.  Hell its hard to believe if you have.  Like I’d said, I didn’t write this to convince the world.  I don’t care.  But if you have shared a similar experience, just know that God can help.  He rewards faith.  And trust me, He and I have had a tumultuous relationship.  All my fault of course because I’m stubborn and think to much of my thinking abilities, and when I was younger I thought God should bend to my needs.  Well, I’ve come to realize that He created ME.  I am but a whisper in the wind, He is eternal.  I just hope that He will remember me fondly..and say “he was a pain sometimes but my little fighter of demons’.