FoxTerrier
New member
- Joined
- Nov 27, 2019
- Messages
- 5
I've lurked on the Yahoo group for quite a long time. I do not believe I have ever posted.
I came to Satanism at long last after MANY arduous years of searching. A survivor, I've seen a lot in my years. I've racked up more years already than I ever expected to. I came from an extremely abusive family who had left the Cracklick church and refused to attend mass, but retained the "devout" mentality. Much of this seems contradictory but if people made any damn sense in their behaviour, they wouldn't be human. On many, many occaisions, I endured "discipline" from both my mother and her husband who preached "thou shalt honour thy father and mother!" while probing my innocent 6 year old yum-yums. No mother has the right to tackle and spread eagle her daughter to see if her yum-yums are growing hair yet but such was my loving mommy. As I later began trying to have relationships with men, I sought out "normalcy" that was not unlike my family. My first suicide attempt was at the age of 6. My most recent was prior to being saved by Satan and his demons. It is almost 5 years now. It's 12 years since acknowledging the drunken coke-head whore that caused my existence and I'm not ruining a good thing.
I have practiced magic all my life. Primarily hoodoo, with some other influences. If I could not separate myself from a desired outcome and was killing my own ritual with my inner dialogue and unable to stop calling the work back to myself, I would find another practitioner to do it for me. Service and exchange of goods. Yeh, I got burnt a few times but sometimes you buy a lemon. I happened upon an internet seller who was a Satanist, taught by her grandfather. I made conversation with her, we really connected, she was a very reasonable, capable, understanding and gifted practitioner who assured me that no harm would come to me from her works, that no demons would ever come to me and there was nothing to fear by her doing the rite for me. She was wrong but I got the miracle I needed. I was ready.
I was seeking truth at the time. Cracklicks had left me cold. Lutherans turned their backs on me when I needed them most. Traditionalist Cracklicks were sweet, friendly hypocrites who dissavowed that magic, demons or anything outside of their Wholly Babble decreed. The friendly priest would give me the dismissal of "I believe you believe this happened." Which, is a shitty, backhanded way of calling someone who's genuinely experiencing the supernatural - your profession, insane. What a fraud. Because there's of course nothing magical about a god that can waltz on water, knock up little girls, conjure catering and make corpses get up and go back to work - oh, fuck it, you know the drill, they're so supremely full of shit. I shouldn't be surprised. No one can hear you if their head is so far up their own ass their ears are full of shit. Someone suggested Xian Science. That was RAPIDLY discarded. I was seeking. Not finding, but seeking.
Then one day I awoke to a demon sitting beside me. I shouted in fear and he vanished. I told him to leave me alone. He returned the next day. Lather, rinse repeat. The third day, I accepted. There was a reason he was there and maybe I needed to pay attention. The lady who did the ritual work for me said this was not someone she could identify by my description, most likely a high ranking demon and he would reveal his identity to me as I learned and progressed. I was fresh off from trying to shoe-horn myself into stupid cults to be a good li'l obedient self-loathing sub-human female worthy only of impregnation (age 39 and gloriously childfree, thanks!). I wasn't keen on a President of the demonic order coming to me. I learned to be.
I finally came to be able to meditate. I ceased trying to harm myself. I still have bad days, don't get me wrong. Anyone with a modicum of intelligence struggles with the horseshit of this world, society and the manipulations citizens endure. I began to take the Cheeses blinders off and learn the lies that created the religious fiction. I am sorry now to have turned my back on the demons who were clearly trying to rescue me all these years.
I have since lost contact with the lady who first was the vehicle for opening my eyes. I actually did the rite of blasphemy twice as after the first, I could continue to feel the filth around me. After the second, I was lead to all the last remaining fragments of my earlier life and was able to discard the last of it. Every rosary, every scrap.
Life, walking with Satan and the demons is love. It is everything my life was lacking. My ex husband saw the difference it makes in my life and asked me to help him connect with the demons and improve his own life. He also loves this lie-free life and while we could not re-establish the relationship we once had - well, I never had a better friend or roommate and we live together. He is more willing to patiently explain his sigil necklace to curious strangers than I would be. I am proud of him. He was a Jehova's Witless when we first met.
It is true that once the enemy has had you, it continues to try to get you back. All I know to do is to give it my hatred and be ever watchful for its presence. The enemy is a fiction, a thoughtform. The enemy is no more real than Mickey Mouse. Everyone knows who Mickey Mouse is, what Mickey sounds like and where he lives and what he does and how he acts but Mickey was no more than the sketching and fiddling of a cartoonist. The enemy Yahweh and its brat kid Jeepers are fictional creations by a bronze age death cult and only the fawning by fearful, mislead, and willfully ignorant saps gives the enemy any life or strength.
The movie Princess Mononoke has a scene wherein the antagonist tells her followers, "do you know how to kill a god? you cut off its head." Well, you cut off a god's head by not believing in it. Paganism is now the fastest growing "religion" in the United States. If I can quit the gibberish, anyone can. The younger generation who was raised with all the information - and disinformation, at their fingertips, is eschewing the Christicles. This gives me great hope as the Xian obituaries pile up and the Cheeses lickers slowly go off into the past tense. The world is not yet a safe clime for Satanism, but the day is coming when we can be unafraid to speak of our gods without being asked if we eat babies or sacrifice children or drink the blood of animals. Yes, I've been asked that. Everyone who ever asked me that was a former Xian pagan who should have known better. I'm sure many of you also have had like experiences. I'm not a great fan of forums but I need a connection to others who are not without. I continue to struggle with circumstances in life and having been denied the coping mechanisms others possess. Even as little as knowing there are others out there means so much. I've opened my private thoughts to strangers in this long, rambling introductory post. Life has left me bitter, jaded, damaged and distrustful, but I'm still a sensitive creature, a modicum of kindness goes a very long way. I'm happy to be among you.
I came to Satanism at long last after MANY arduous years of searching. A survivor, I've seen a lot in my years. I've racked up more years already than I ever expected to. I came from an extremely abusive family who had left the Cracklick church and refused to attend mass, but retained the "devout" mentality. Much of this seems contradictory but if people made any damn sense in their behaviour, they wouldn't be human. On many, many occaisions, I endured "discipline" from both my mother and her husband who preached "thou shalt honour thy father and mother!" while probing my innocent 6 year old yum-yums. No mother has the right to tackle and spread eagle her daughter to see if her yum-yums are growing hair yet but such was my loving mommy. As I later began trying to have relationships with men, I sought out "normalcy" that was not unlike my family. My first suicide attempt was at the age of 6. My most recent was prior to being saved by Satan and his demons. It is almost 5 years now. It's 12 years since acknowledging the drunken coke-head whore that caused my existence and I'm not ruining a good thing.
I have practiced magic all my life. Primarily hoodoo, with some other influences. If I could not separate myself from a desired outcome and was killing my own ritual with my inner dialogue and unable to stop calling the work back to myself, I would find another practitioner to do it for me. Service and exchange of goods. Yeh, I got burnt a few times but sometimes you buy a lemon. I happened upon an internet seller who was a Satanist, taught by her grandfather. I made conversation with her, we really connected, she was a very reasonable, capable, understanding and gifted practitioner who assured me that no harm would come to me from her works, that no demons would ever come to me and there was nothing to fear by her doing the rite for me. She was wrong but I got the miracle I needed. I was ready.
I was seeking truth at the time. Cracklicks had left me cold. Lutherans turned their backs on me when I needed them most. Traditionalist Cracklicks were sweet, friendly hypocrites who dissavowed that magic, demons or anything outside of their Wholly Babble decreed. The friendly priest would give me the dismissal of "I believe you believe this happened." Which, is a shitty, backhanded way of calling someone who's genuinely experiencing the supernatural - your profession, insane. What a fraud. Because there's of course nothing magical about a god that can waltz on water, knock up little girls, conjure catering and make corpses get up and go back to work - oh, fuck it, you know the drill, they're so supremely full of shit. I shouldn't be surprised. No one can hear you if their head is so far up their own ass their ears are full of shit. Someone suggested Xian Science. That was RAPIDLY discarded. I was seeking. Not finding, but seeking.
Then one day I awoke to a demon sitting beside me. I shouted in fear and he vanished. I told him to leave me alone. He returned the next day. Lather, rinse repeat. The third day, I accepted. There was a reason he was there and maybe I needed to pay attention. The lady who did the ritual work for me said this was not someone she could identify by my description, most likely a high ranking demon and he would reveal his identity to me as I learned and progressed. I was fresh off from trying to shoe-horn myself into stupid cults to be a good li'l obedient self-loathing sub-human female worthy only of impregnation (age 39 and gloriously childfree, thanks!). I wasn't keen on a President of the demonic order coming to me. I learned to be.
I finally came to be able to meditate. I ceased trying to harm myself. I still have bad days, don't get me wrong. Anyone with a modicum of intelligence struggles with the horseshit of this world, society and the manipulations citizens endure. I began to take the Cheeses blinders off and learn the lies that created the religious fiction. I am sorry now to have turned my back on the demons who were clearly trying to rescue me all these years.
I have since lost contact with the lady who first was the vehicle for opening my eyes. I actually did the rite of blasphemy twice as after the first, I could continue to feel the filth around me. After the second, I was lead to all the last remaining fragments of my earlier life and was able to discard the last of it. Every rosary, every scrap.
Life, walking with Satan and the demons is love. It is everything my life was lacking. My ex husband saw the difference it makes in my life and asked me to help him connect with the demons and improve his own life. He also loves this lie-free life and while we could not re-establish the relationship we once had - well, I never had a better friend or roommate and we live together. He is more willing to patiently explain his sigil necklace to curious strangers than I would be. I am proud of him. He was a Jehova's Witless when we first met.
It is true that once the enemy has had you, it continues to try to get you back. All I know to do is to give it my hatred and be ever watchful for its presence. The enemy is a fiction, a thoughtform. The enemy is no more real than Mickey Mouse. Everyone knows who Mickey Mouse is, what Mickey sounds like and where he lives and what he does and how he acts but Mickey was no more than the sketching and fiddling of a cartoonist. The enemy Yahweh and its brat kid Jeepers are fictional creations by a bronze age death cult and only the fawning by fearful, mislead, and willfully ignorant saps gives the enemy any life or strength.
The movie Princess Mononoke has a scene wherein the antagonist tells her followers, "do you know how to kill a god? you cut off its head." Well, you cut off a god's head by not believing in it. Paganism is now the fastest growing "religion" in the United States. If I can quit the gibberish, anyone can. The younger generation who was raised with all the information - and disinformation, at their fingertips, is eschewing the Christicles. This gives me great hope as the Xian obituaries pile up and the Cheeses lickers slowly go off into the past tense. The world is not yet a safe clime for Satanism, but the day is coming when we can be unafraid to speak of our gods without being asked if we eat babies or sacrifice children or drink the blood of animals. Yes, I've been asked that. Everyone who ever asked me that was a former Xian pagan who should have known better. I'm sure many of you also have had like experiences. I'm not a great fan of forums but I need a connection to others who are not without. I continue to struggle with circumstances in life and having been denied the coping mechanisms others possess. Even as little as knowing there are others out there means so much. I've opened my private thoughts to strangers in this long, rambling introductory post. Life has left me bitter, jaded, damaged and distrustful, but I'm still a sensitive creature, a modicum of kindness goes a very long way. I'm happy to be among you.