One might be inclined to think that, in light of the revelations of so much scandal wrought by a fair number of those in the hierarchy of the Catholic Church (the ones who suppress and try with all their unfortunate darksomeness to cut off the longevity of the voices of the good ones, and are further enabled in their fraternal abuse by the silence of the weak ones), nothing but depraved acts of sexual impurity by Clerics and the World-worship idolatry in the Vatican is happening today.
I find it is true what St Michael and Our Lady said to the Church from/through Garabandal.
Many Bishops and Priests are on the road to Hell and are taking many souls with them.
Of course, this upset the Bishops and Priests very much, and many claimed Our Lady was against them – whether to try to conceal their evil-doings further, or undiscerning and emotionally reactive to something uncomfortable that made them feel undermined. But was she undermining them? I’d say no.
Her explicit instructions she imparted at Fatima, Portugal were not met with Obedience, but continual human inventions trying to “modify” God’s Terms for peace and protections and deliverance from evil… Or to put to true analysis, it was the Popes and Bishops choosing to prefer their pet-project of negotiating with the World rather than Obey God.
Knowing Our Lady, she sought every recourse before setting about with a public missive concerning Her Priest-sons and the rest of the children of the Church. And knowing Our Lady, she doubtless would be doing it with more precision and grace than I ever could.
Reiterating: My making this blog was never about making either love or war on the Episcopal and Diocesan Offices. But I know I have been exhaustive in writing to them in the diocese, and receiving ignorance and disregard as a response. I know of others who have suffered severe spiritual afflictions and also wrote to the Chancery of the Diocese respectively, for years, never receiving any response. One even did some digging, and learned they just make a file for all of these things, and never take into account that these are immortal souls writing to them, and these are real human lives reaching out to them.
In my case specifically… My purpose is to address the Clergy and Chanceries and call for their necessary reform, now for their own sakes.
I will summarize the backdrop and then return to infancy to go into detail:
Growing up, my parents had no clue what I was going through, I had too much filial trust in their “it’s not real” approach, and we were not empowered to address it by those in the Church for them to supply what I needed spiritually. And as their eventually-codependent-inclined oldest prodigal daughter with an occasional-unhealthy-martyr-complex, how could I tell them?
I could not even receive what formation I needed from those in authority in the Church, because they were not really doing what they were chosen and ordained to do.
One little Diocesan priest, Father (name redacted), apologized to me for his neglect in 2012. I didn’t even understand what he had done that was so wrong for him to apologize for, but I appreciated it; Our Lady had bade me – even before he apologized, but a time after he had ignored me – to “regard him with mercy” as he was being persecuted from within the diocese by the LGBT advocacy mob (already rooted within the parishes); he directed me to the Priest who remains my spiritual director.
When I would as an adult reach out and ask for any help from those beyond my spiritual director, I was first ignored and then still never taken seriously. 2009, 2012, 2016, 2018, 2020, 2021, all contain direct communication requesting help from those occupying offices of spiritual authority in the Church from when I was old enough to take charge of making my needs known myself.
I even received spiritual abuse from one Priest who was my Confessor (not spiritual director) in 2016 – I called it a real crisis of Faith and an existential crisis, he called it selfishness and my “teddy bear” and said a number of other abusive and inappropriate (non-sexual inappropriate) things to me. To this day, he has never acknowledged the spiritual and emotional abuse that he committed against me then. I do not think he is malicious, he does try to do good for souls in many areas of Sacraments and devotions, but he is most definitely emotionally immature in some areas and struggles when others bring painful/”negative” emotions to him, and especially criticism. Even recently I have had to tell him “Don’t tell me to not be upset when I’m clearly upset!”
This rampant spiritual abuse/neglect, as well as some psychological, mental, emotional, and verbal abuse from the members of the Clergy and Chancery was the lynchpin that opened so much room for demons to enter my life and take advantage in ways I am not going to get into. I was being, as Christ would relate to me, groomed by the demons, but it was very individually tailored. I have other friends who were being groomed in that similar way, some in the Church and some outside, but none were (and they would say so) as severe.
When my case broke in the summer of 2018, at 30 years old I was still as vulnerable as I always had been.
I received deliverance ministry from a Priest. He was just named in charge of the youth community there in the past week of our first meeting; I didn’t know that until later. For him, myself, and Dad, we were confident that (1) Dad asking him at my request (as I was incapacitated by fire), when I was become indecisive between he and another of the Priests there (the other who wound up really helping me in Confession later), and (2) my guessing that morning his being the Celebrant at Mass that day, was no coincidence.
At the end of the customary interview period, this Priest encouraged me to – suggested the opportunity – to share my story more openly. I told him I was in no condition to then, and that I had absolutely no trust in the authority in the Church. I believed that, if anything, it might be used to help others and then would be an excuse to ignore and disregard me and my need of any further care or consideration by them. He told me he understood (I didn’t know I made any sense then, I was expecting to be viewed as a paranoid narcissist).
Turns out that concern was realized, however, and after sharing it with major sectors of the Diocese, absolutely none of them will respond to me still, save only my current spiritual director who is often delayed by actually being busy (and not in this Diocese, but still responds more than ANY of them).
It makes them all look very deficient in Charity, at grave fault of the dereliction of their duty.
So… What am I supposed to want them – the authority in the Church – to do, but
1. acknowledge what I shared with all sincerity,
2. and acknowledge the abuses they committed against me to me, and apologize to me and to Christ in me,
3. and “make straight the way of the Lord”?
Isn’t the popular assumption that I, as a recipient of so many extraordinarily intense spiritual experiences, must therefore be becoming a Saint – rather than losing my salvation toward falling into Hell forever – rather presumptuous and unfair an expectation on me concerning these “extraordinary” experiences and how blind and clearly stupid I am for continually giving my confidence to those who show by their negligence if not malice that they do not care?
Or should I as a child of God want them to lose the salvation of their souls? (I don’t think so.)
Should I be denied my right to live the Gospel and reconcile with them (reconciling which is conditional upon their contrition and repentance, as I have been as direct with them as possible)? I don’t know if you have realized, but treating those in authority (even imaginary authority as in the privileged offices of Chancery personnel and committees etc) in the Church “as Gentiles/tax collectors” is kind of not feasible.
Hope this clarifies.
I have been experiencing the preternatural (the holy and the demonic) ever since I was younger than the age of reason. This occurred on both occasions while I was awake and while I was asleep. I had no idea what it was, and so I tried to learn as the years went on. The secularized atheistic culture that shaped the modern psychological field wouldn’t be permitted by either the holy nor the damned to endure indefinitely.
When I was old enough to do any explorative research myself, I was in middle school. Before then, and through elementary school, the extent of my intelligence about these things was limited to only what was considered socially acceptable (ie. “Here’s this story/experience/nightmare. Do you think it was sad/scary?”) etc.
In middle school, life in the education system was terrible. I was the generation of “no child left behind”, where every child’s placement depended upon one’s test-scores. I could have been a good student, but I was a bad test-taker. So I got put into a mishmash classroom with other peers who did not test well and many others who just didn’t care. Violent anger occupied most of my time while attending there. And in this anger, I was already ignorant but also became susceptible to discouragement in the Catholic religion and, in my curiosity, wondered about other spiritual practices – the occult, mostly. I dabbled in satisfying my curiosity about the elements and some darker (moodier) stuff with incantations, but never ritualistically. These things would never provide answers concerning my experiences. It was pretty clear that I was doing the pursuing rather than receiving in this period. What yielded results, and what was it in these that yielded results, was the extent of my curiosity – I also dabbled in it as an outlet (for that, I focused on the weather – yes, there were “results”). Basically, I did everything blind. I remember having curiosity and ember of an interest about the Devil and the Mercy of God when I was 12. When I was 13, my Dad found a book on voodoo in my room. It was the first, or maybe second serious talk on the subject of the preternatural, but it was the first time I learned about the reality of exorcists; I was so fascinated by it that I began to want to be one. Why? Not for power, not for money, for the formation and education, and the excitement of a war – and helping others recover freedom and family from the demonic was an appealing goal. I even found a “forbidden” copy of an exorcism rite in the public library, in Latin, and tried to phonetically recite the rite itself. (The quality of my recitations then was about the same measure of infant-quality as my recitations of the ecclesiastical Latin in the Roman Breviary is now in 2021, lol.) I began to read C.S. Lewis’s “The Screwtape Letters” in this period as well, but that perhaps was not so prudent with my being so young and still at that time impressionable.
I attended public schools until I was 14 years old and would be attending one of the Diocesan Catholic High Schools – not voluntarily, mind you, and I was determined to hate it for the whole first year so that I could be transferred to a school of my own choosing, but I very slowly/late made friends with a Byzantine Catholic and decided to stay. My interest in learning about angelology/demonology and all Pagan religions/mythologies did not diminish in the slightest, and I was in a place where I could have access to learn about them with ease; diocesan schools are a spiritual melting pot, with Moral and Mystical/Spiritual Theology not taught at all despite such a desperate need – the diocesan curriculum in the USA is weak, “protestantized” Catholicism, interwoven with Modernism manifested as the woke “spirit of Vatican II” (it’s shallow/BORING). I remember the demonic drama that I went through in High school, within the school. My experience of schooling was never devoid of chaos, but the catechetical quality was – unfortunately – overly academic. And I remember trying to work through the chaos and adapt to the reality of it and cope with it by a variety of methods, none of which were limited to the Christian, as I was trying like any desperate child to try to acquire even just a little bit of power and control over all that was outside of my control within my life. I became attached to a variety of sinful spiritual practices, and these – I would begin to understand in this period of my life, my teenage years – would leave me vulnerable to being subjected to demonic obsession. When I would even take these things to our monthly (?) Confession opportunities, it was as if the Priest had no idea, and he would take a lot for granted (perhaps because he was always a visiting Priest?), and I would not be given the pastoral solicitude I was so desperately needing.
It was my Junior year of high school, when I was 16, when I would begin to discern a call: “It would be pleasing to God that you enter into Consecrated Religious Life” (and when Our Lady used those specific words to me, I had no idea what that was or what that meant). So I began to “discern” a vocation, with no time table or exposure to Religious Life. No matter where I would eventually go to visit for a “come and see”, I would be faced with discouragements from those already within (like they were stringing me along to push me to prove myself, as workforce CEOs are characterized as wont to do), in part because I was so blind about everything that I had no idea how to communicate about anything effectively, nor what to inquire.
And once I began to show an interest in CRL, that got the attention of Antichrist and the devils rather quickly. So on top of my own oddness and very awkward immaturity, and the discouraging continual pushing by Religious directresses in Religious habits that I engage the World more (with the exception of only one, and that one was disbanded in Indiana so close to my planned entry-date, which otherwise would have been August 15, 2015, that it plunged me into a despondent grief as if my whole family had been murdered before I could even be born into it, and I took it personally that I was deprived even possibly discerning out of it on my own), as if that were not enough, I was under constant demonic harassment and especially by Antichrist.
No solicitude for the life of my immortal soul by anyone in an official position of ecclesial or secular authority. And after ~11 intense years of doing all the pursuing of the vocation to be a bride of Christ myself, all across the country, from Fall 2004 to Summer 2015, a woman can only put so much energy into it anymore due to this ongoing hereafter in real danger of becoming something “forced”. But to be honest, I don’t know of any Religious community that is so strong and secure within itself against the demonic either. The corruption in the hierarchy has a rippling effect to everything else humanly instituted/established (Religious communities included) even if there is not a singularly destructive force successfully spawning weeds in every soul already/still within those institutions.
I became worn and tired. Looking back, I am seeing all the ways I needed to do as St Teresa of Avila did in her suffering and trials, but I knew nothing comprehensive of her, and to this day I am still only learning piecemeal.
I need to backtrack a little.
By 2009, my Junior year of college, I had lost myself to such a degree that I needed to get “out” and knew I needed the Church’s help. In my case, severe depression was the immediate result of the obstinate spiritual neglect I was receiving.
An opportunity came to ask Bishop (redacted) questions, during an in-person Q&A at (redacted) University in the lobby of the (redacted) Student Center. He seemed amiable at least. The group of us students were seated, and there was a camera recording… He invited us to ask any questions, and none of us seemed to have the balls to ask a question. So I did. “What does it take to get an exorcism?” He asked me for clarification, if I was asking for anyone in particular, and I said “myself” (I suppose it was my fault, that was only half-disclosure). He asked some details, so I went to what I usually did when expressing a need for something of a spiritual nature – what I did when I was 12 that “opened a door”. The other students gave me a strange look – not sure whether it was a “this is too personal” or a “how dare you make this about yourself” or a “wth is this” look, probably all of the above. The Bishop told me that it was “likely a case of demonic obsession rather than possession”… So, then I got to look and feel like I was being called crazy (sorry, but demonic “obsession” – obsession being something used to describe a love-struck infatuated teenager – is not the right word to use off-the-fly like that; I had read almost all available books on the subject, I was well acquainted with the lingo). I just took it in like a good “obedient” Catholic girl, both hurt and “star-struck” at the same time because an inaccessible man, a leader in the Catholic Church on earth, made himself accessible in my presence ONCE and (now my attitude is showing) how honored I therefore am obligated to feel and all that nonsense. I arrived at the conclusion that I would just have to resign myself to what I was going through. I didn’t want to. Eventually, someone else had another question, and that pretty much concluded the event. He got up to leave. And he has a long stride. I chased after him and asked him for a blessing. He gave it, turned and continued to leave without a word. I returned to work-study in the Campus Ministry office; Father (redacted) was a very good chaplain to us, and to me, but I could not bring myself to disclose so much to him because of how complicated it all had become to me. Looking back, at how vulnerably I acknowledged publicly that I needed the help of the Church against the demomic, and how blasé the Bishop was in response, I should have been angry then with the Bishop, but I didn’t even feel hurt enough to cry. I felt a measly pang of disappointment, but buried that under the mountain of cognitive dissonance with “he must be very busy” etc. You see, I made excuses for everyone to myself back then, to my greater detriment. Accountability? What’s that? Responsibility? Fault? Guilt? Must be all mine. (And that did drive even the demons a bit insane, trying to get it through to me that other human beings have their own share of responsibility and fault for their own words and actions, inaction and omissions. I wasn’t having any of that then. If anyone was going to be responsible for any evil in the world through Man, it would be the Evil one himself, and the rest I would leave to God.)
After I had graduated in December of 2010, I returned to live at home. I still continued to discern a vocation to CRL. Of course Antichrist was going to continue to pursue me, as I had been warned by Our Father in Heaven back in 2007, my Sophomore year, that convent walls would not hide me from his antics. Every day, every year, it had been something “new” from him. He was a pest. But after I graduated, he went to a “new low” in relation to how he sought to acquire me, in the Summer of 2011. One night, Antichrist blackmailed me to hand myself over on the threat that if I did not, he would rape, brutalize, and kill a certain person I cared about very much. I did. (I knew nothing of what “sinful fear” was until the Summer of 2018.) He proceeded, of course, to rape me. I wasn’t going to let him have it his way, and found a poignant way to cause and exploit a deep wound to his pride throughout. For the next year and a half, I was raped by him day in and day out. I suffered sleep deprivation to the point of going mad. When I said to my mother one day that I need a break from working (I was a summer nanny then), she, not knowing anything, responded in a way that she would likely want to take back. Both my parents did. They emphasized work ethic, and our family friend’s needing me to work, over my already-shredded sanity. And what’s worse, that shredded sanity led to some very, very bad decisions. I was already experiencing prophetic nightmares and visions, but had no idea of the source of them, and when the demons learned and especially Antichrist learned of it, he saw to it that I would be deprived of sleep. I even initially felt the visions were worse and a cause of pain surpassing what else they were doing to me. I became so disoriented that I developed severe Stockholm syndrome (despite trying to counteract/distract him from what he had threatened). On one occasion, I got in the breach between God and Antichrist as the former was a moment away from striking the latter. On another occasion even a while after that, I named him “king”. Then the other demons began to openly attack me, accusing me of many things and seeking to kill me (but were still by the Divine Providence of God highly restricted in that). Every fight they provoked, I always won the throw-down fight. They always neglected to recognize how it started. And after each fight there would be a brief respite from those attempts on my life – there would have been a stop put to it had I told Antichrist myself, but I knew such a sign of dependence would be taken and exploited by him to the utmost unfathomable depths (and I expected he could have been in on it). I would still throughout this attend daily Mass and make as best use of the sacramentals as I could know how – it was all that remained of my sanity, I felt inescapably trapped at that point. Antichrist hated it, and would often attack me even during Mass to try to prevent my receiving the Eucharist. I threatened the Antichrist right back about what I would do in relation to him if he were to deprive me of that; his and my “arrangement” had its limits that were already established; I threatened to kill myself – it was always a threat of suicide that would make him change his tone… briefly. Strange, huh?
One day at Mass, I had asked a Priest whom I admired very much at the time (for his homilies that did not shy from making mention of the demonic but was not the focus of his preaching), for some sort of direction of where to go for spiritual direction in trying to “break the cycle” – what I judged at the time to be all relative to what I did when I was 12 and onward – to break out from the occult. This admired Priest pointed me to a particular other Priest, and one whom I retain as my spiritual director concerning such matters especially. But even throughout our meetings for spiritual direction, I was only just barely staying afloat; I felt safe with him, for how little I disclosed to him, and all of the crisis that was taking place seemed to not take place between meetings in my memory once I was in his company again; he and I both felt stuck, and so we started to talk about the other means available for help (counseling) in addressing this issue. That’s another whole long story in itself. Even so, within this “recovery period”, God saw fit to send the Archangel St Raphael to me as a frequent visitor. I recorded only two things of what he shared with me (which I have not been allowed to forget in my memory, even if it is not constantly immediately prevalent), and he was always quick to help when called.
I reached out to the Chancery and Bishop (redacted) again this time, under the pretense of wanting to come to clarity of my spiritual experiences, whether they be holy or unholy. Within this period I was also coming out from a popularized “Catholic” seer’s prophecies and online group community (it was called “Maria Divine Mercy” and “The Book of Truth”) which contained a sacrilegious denigration of the Third divine Person of the Holy Trinity in its content; “Jesus” used “It” in referencing the Holy Spirit, something He would never do. Kudos to Sister Mary Ann Fatula, OP for my first doctrinal Catholic formation education in college (BA in Theology), and for putting up with me through my occasional testing everything with even an “arrogance” (I had a bit too much teasing “fun” with probing into “how do we know that what I am being taught is true?” – I didn’t disbelieve it, I just wanted the proofs); turns out that her lessons (and boundaries) were instructive in beginning to discern spirits more authentically, even accidentally as I did not divulge to her what I was going through even though I accepted and welcomed her prayers etc. I wouldn’t have come to that splitting point.
But I saw another spiritual-attachment that was detrimental, and I couldn’t figure out how to “just move on” from it and “let it go” (as my family had tried to counsel me about it). My spiritual director and I were at a sort of stand-still, and I – me personally – needed some sort of closure about this. Despite reaching out, signing the email I sent as “a daughter of Holy Mother Church”, and being as humble and grateful as any desperate “codependent” (I know, labels – tongue in cheek) could. I never received any word from them whatsoever. Never ever. I asked if they could even just point me to a resource if they were busy or could not help me directly. I placed no expectation on them whatsoever. But I never received anything.
Two years later. Fast forward to 2014. I was feeling very abandoned by the Church, and bless my spiritual director he just could not understand that. He too was in the habit of “making excuses” for these people. And it was sticking out to me that despite being so humble and on my best and most understanding manner, the Chancery which is perhaps the highest point of authority over this diocese and those in it under the Bishop himself, was worthless as worthless could be to secure my good as well as in aiding me to secure my good for myself.
I was laying on my bed, a complete mess. It was the afternoon. I was even feeling very tempted to self-harm if not suicide. Jesus came… or who I thought was Jesus, that is… By appearance and manner, it seemed to really be Him. I should not have trusted my senses in that emotionally troubled state I was in, but I couldn’t reason against my desire and need – I wanted Christ. And I spoke to him as if he were Christ. I asked him if this (negligence) is what it would be like in the Kingdom of God in Heaven – yes that is where I was, at that low point of being almost “ready” to forsake the Christian Faith and Religion if I were pushed with just one pinky finger further. His simple answer was “No.” (Sometimes God in His Mysteries makes them tell the truth, in spite of themselves.) And he would “counsel” me through/out of that depression spell, but I have never – and it is just as well – been able to recall what he communicated to me. Eventually, he would stand back up again. His back was to me then, at a slight angle, and he was facing the window. But then it happened. The masquerade faded. It was not Christ, but Antichrist. And then he left, “poofed” out, leaving me with that ton of bricks to process. And for a long time afterward, I would go back and forth wondering if I should revisit the pursuit of my death, if the Antichrist were to try to counsel me to choose “life” for myself; yet, it is mortal sin to even pray to become a red martyr, as that includes praying for someone else to commit mortal sin of murder. Choosing “life” (as in, this mortal/earthly life) must therefore not be the end of itself, but project into choosing and prioritizing eternal life as the Ultimate Good for which this earthly life exists. This would cycle back to the expectation of the trials that would surely await me in my own future, because why else would God allow for it to occur this way? Either that Life in Christ is all that is gain and all else is vain at expense of that Life, or…. It was also – if I am not mistaken – around 2014 when my spiritual director was called back to his Bishop’s diocese. And that hit hard as well. It seemed more like a death than a 1.5 hour commute, and it hit me harder than the passing of my grandparents and one distant cousin (who was my age!) that took place in my college years.
The “struggle” was still daily, weekly, monthly, yearly. I had a spiritual director. I had a counselor on and off, as I was practicing my boundary-setting with regard to diagnoses and what felt at the time like pushing me toward trying medications (he knew I was solid about the spiritual warfare, we were debating over treatment for ADD and comorbidities). I had a faithful friend. I had the support of my parents. I did not begin taking medications (and did not need them) to help with anything until 2016 when repressed trauma took over my brain and nearly made me start banging my head until-bleeding on the floor of a hotel bathroom in Spring (it literally took every last ounce of willpower to keep from banging my head). My parents were with me there, and we were visiting my little sister, and I did not want to disturb anyone. It was then that I knew I needed to take up the SSRI receptor help, albeit in the most limited way, temporarily. I remember that afternoon when I lay on the hotel bed, and two of the “old regime” came in the room. I wished I could hurl something at them, but they’re spirits. They went to lengths to try to reassure me that they were not there to hurt me or those there. One of them ran his hand over and across my brain, and I saw what he saw – the “dark matter” splotches that had formed (signifying major depression); I would give that no credence, because the risk was always too great of a deception to try to manipulate the trajectory of my life (they were all about “control or destroy”) with chemicals as much as any overt sin of trusting deceivers and killers with my/any life. Then one left and the other remained. I would take – by preference – my brain-stem snapping from psychological tension (I doubt such a thing could happen, but for illustration’s sake) before I would actually trust them with my personal welfare.
Come 2017, I was drifting about again, still pursuing clarity. So, since I had some money saved up, I decided to try to “recover” myself (the self-expression crisis that all those who struggled with codependency face). I entered the “goth scene”, played with the makeup and fashion (modern Spanish Victorian-esque) and of course would style my then-long hair (without product) in curls and twists and braids with ornaments/accents and dye it darker. I also got into Paranormal Investigation, having my own set of trial questions about the thing itself and the tools utilized, and then it developed into a possible means of, at least in theory, of (redacted). Again, that closure was still an issue. And it would be exploited. I became friends with a couple (what I am going to refer to as) naturalist neo-pagans (more “Native American” Nature-focused paganism). One of them had “friends” in high and low places like I had had, and we hit it off. And when I had shared with her about my situation (she and I were each in one of our own), she had shared with me about some things to keep in mind for perspective. And then the ones that were harassing me began to harass her for her sharing some things with me. Within that turbulence, the demons wound up deceiving us both, much as she and her boyfriend and I did our best with what we knew how in order to support each other through it all. But the demons’ deception in this led to a necessary separation (albeit peaceable one with – at least I think – mutual respect and well-wishing for our respective healing; I never stopped caring about them, and still pray for them to this day).
I remember that during an occasion at daily Mass, after when we attendees would remain and pray the Litany of St Anthony of Padua on Tuesdays. “Terror of demons” and “Tamer of tyrants”. On one Tuesday, when I prayed “Tamer of tyrants, pray for us”, (redacted) had appeared suddenly, like right in front of my face. And he snapped a question at me defensively, if I intended to tame him. I said I didn’t, as I was praying – and shot back at him the question of if he intended to be a tyrant; I do not remember the answer he gave, only that he stare-glared at me for a while in silence like a cranky teenager.
On another Tuesday, maybe the next week or week after, the same thing happened, at the same moment. But it was (redacted) who snapped that question to me that time. And I began to think that something strange was going on, for me to be practically accused twice about the same thing by spirits I could not differentiate. So I responded the same way as the first.
It was on Good Friday, during Mass in Spring 2018. Well, during Mass, out of nowhere, I felt a flat board covered with nails swing hard into my belly. It knocked out my ability to breathe, from the pain and the shock. I tried to not draw any attention to myself – it was Mass, the attention belongs to God/Christ (reverential N.O.) and what is taking place on the Altar – and opted to just sit down and try to recover my ability to breathe and reason through this. And it was in the midst of what happened next that piqued the interest of the devil-Seraph, who from then on began to strive to court me. The devil-Seraph began and continuously earnestly offered (I always refused, mind you) to raise me to the esteem of being the object of his worship, and never allowed me to sink into grief. He and even the other greater demons all treated me like a queen and a treasure – any who would not, I was never interacting with. But do you have any idea how terrifying that concept is and should be, to be considered throughout that time the guarantor of all, every, and any human life in this world – by one of the mightiest devils who thinks absolutely nothing at all of killing every human?
But getting a debilitating fire out of me would prove a difficulty that incapacitated me and made me unable to function in society at all. I had to share what little I could bear to communicate by sheer necessity to my Dad. Dad shared with my Mom, and then he began to contact others. I reconnected to my spiritual director, and to my counselor. I had numerous Catholics praying and fasting for my sake. My spiritual director went out of his way to meet me in the area, and after I told him as much as I could (which was more than I expected to be able), he pointed me in the next “process” step; he did not know whether praying deliverance prayers (this is not an exorcism) over me was something permitted him in this diocese because it’s up to the local ordinary/Bishop, while he is technically a visiting Priest of a different diocese. My Dad contacted the Chancellor, who set up a time to meet with me to go over the paper work aspect of the Diocese’s “discernment process” for a possible formal exorcism; in this meeting, he discerned it to besevere demonic oppression rather than possession, and told me that any priest is allowed to pray deliverance prayers in this diocese.
I didn’t even know deliverance prayers could be done “by any priest” until 2018. So that was 6 years of them leaving me completely stranded, on top of the three years between 2009-2012 when I had on both occasions reached out to them as an adult. However, given my tracing most of this back to the time after I was in the “age of reason”, when I was 12, and was 31 when I received help, that is 19 years of being disregarded.
My counselor, a Protestant, was absolutely furious about how power-playing was so prevalent among the Catholic “powers that be” that it would obstruct me from receiving the help I needed. I was even afraid for my own soul when I heard him so outraged – even on my own behalf. I had zero self-respect and plenty of self-contempt to try to make excuses for them, vomit all the old excuses I was used to hearing and swallowing. It would not be until later, much more recently, when I would remember and learn better about just how spiritually abusive the Catholic clergy and chancery functions operate. It’s worse than that of the Pharisees. The corporate bureaucracy system in the institution was never ever the design of Christ, only that of sinful arrogant and greedy human creatures, and is an aberration and abomination. Their priceless job security and comfort is a house built on a foundation of sand – and they treasure it like the false god it is, with everything they are/have become in and through it. They prefer the illusion of their own design over the Truth and the authentic witness of the Gospel, and it shows clearly to all who are made to suffer by it (even if they cannot pinpoint precisely what it is).
With my striving to come out of this, my Dad had contacted one of the Friars on my behalf, and a meeting was arranged. I told this Priest much of my story. He and my spiritual director are the only two Priests who know so much of it from my own mouth. Some parts of my memories of my experiences have needed healing and have received some of that since then, which is why there are things in here that I have made peace with to include it. In the very first meeting, I told this Priest everything privately. For the part that included deliverance prayer, which was Traditional but prayed in English and which aided me in my own private self-examination throughout the deliverance prayers – should God “drop a hint” of what would stand out most to me – my Dad also was in the room and accompanying. There was an immediate effect from the use of the Holy Water (exorcized and with the liberal use of exorcized salt including). The “fire” that had been burning me from the inside, which had been ignited when I initially became united to the devil-Seraph, and which had oppressed me severely whenever I would attend Mass or try to pray after I determined to leave (it was not long after July 17, when that began) went out. That fire did not return, and has not returned since.
In the late Summer of 2018 up to the lockstep “Covid” shutdown of 2020, I was receiving this ministry from this Religious Priest.
After the debilitating fire was put out, I began to volunteer at a Soup Kitchen, and after meeting Mr B. and Mr D., it took on a character of a semi-second home for me. It was even there that my Guardian Angel taught me something new, about the passage “Love covers a multitude of sins.” I had been puzzling one occasion about what that meant, and until then had interpreted it as a passage about forgiveness and reconciliation. My Guardian Angel corrected me, stating that it means that so long as one is busy about the exercise of the Virtue of Charity, one will be too busy and occupied to fall into the multitude of sins, that idleness is a peril avoided.
Around the same time, with so many good people in the Church praying for me, I was reached out to about coming on a pilgrimage to Medugorje in the Fall (two weeks in October), and despite having less than $10 to my name at that point, was reassured that it would be sponsored completely. A demon would harass me the very first night I was there in Hotel (redacted), and after making use of some exorcized salt which a very dear friend had given me before she went into the monastery, the demon was repelled and could not return to harass me. My sleeping quarters became “safe”.
It was in Summer/Fall of 2018 when I would receive a somewhat random email from a certain Priest who was/is the chaplain of the local Chapter of the Lay Missionaries of Charity. I would attend every First Saturday for the Day of Reflection and I would wander interiorly between feeling attracted and simply deeply attached to the LMCs – they were good people and they stayed good people. But I felt more that the relationship of the LMC community to me was sustaining me rather than calling to me, so I never made vows, but would continue to attend.
I got a job as a diocesan employee around this time as well, but it proved such a toxic and uncatechized work environment that I was actually pushed out by vicious individuals. I could go into detail of the workplace bullying I was subjected to, but that’s a story for a different post. Since being forced to leave and what I have seen in schools through others since, I have come to say, as the corruption becomes more and more revealed to me, “Good riddance” to my being a diocesan employee (I respect those who can prudentially maintain their integrity and choose to stay, who have families depending on them, it’s just not what I can stomach after what I saw and experienced).
Lockdown/Lockstep Shutdown of 2020 with Bishop (redacted) shutting down all in-person ministry and the Laity’s access to the Sacraments, on the Feast of Saint Patrick… March 17 or 18, I believe it was… In late March, I was experiencing nightmares again with demons explicitly named. So I sought the help of the Religious Priest who Dad had in 2018 requested on my behalf and who had been the first to pray deliverance prayers over me.
On April 2, I made my request. I never received a response.
On April 12, Easter morning, I would wake up to being sexually assaulted by a demon.
I then contacted this Priest again, telling him what happened.
He said the following in response to my stating that I woke up on Easter morning, April 12, to being sexually assaulted by a demon:
“Unfortunately, at this point the best I can do is to set up a video call with you. I can’t meet with you in person because the bishop has asked us not to do any in-person ministry except to the seriously ill and dying. We’ve been told that confessions by appointment will be allowed in the near future, but they haven’t given us a definite timeframe. I’m sorry and I wish things were different, but obedience is a virtue, especially when we don’t fully understand or agree. Without it, the Church would quickly fall apart.
Let me know if you would like to set up a Zoom meeting sometime today or tomorrow. I can do the deliverance prayers through a video call since they’re not a sacrament. Today I’ll be free in the evening around 6:30. Tomorrow my schedule is flexible, so just let me know what time would be good for you. If you don’t already have Zoom, you can download it for free. I can set up the meeting and send you an invitation by email. Or we could just talk and pray over the phone, the “old-fashioned” way.”
That was a back-breaking straw. I criticized him of cowardice and negligence etc, telling him that the Priests are acting worse than the scribes and Pharisees, to which he replied:
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I cannot in good conscience violate the vow of obedience that I took when I became a (redacted) friar. Doing so would only add to the number and weight of my sins, which are considerable. You really don’t know how I have suffered, or what I have risked, or from what motives I have acted, do you?”
We next met in person on May 12. A month after the fact. Obedience to the Bishop and the State, when at the expense of Obedience to God/Christ, is not the real Virtue of Obedience at all. Priests and Religious have – to give the benefit of the doubt – been denied this critical point of formation in their Vocation.
On April 17, I had sent the Bishop a missive as well:
“Your Excellency Bishop (redacted), I was one of the three present in the Cathedral on Easter. That morning I woke up to being sexually molested by a demon; the ministry of Deliverance prayers allowed to priests, you yourself suppressed, which I find to be ironic given that while we faithful laity have been starved of sacramental Grace behind a violation of Canon 455, you went to Feast. As to what pertains to Canon 204 to the end through 1753*, I come to demand justice as to the spirit of Canon 386, 387, 388.4, 392.2 and 1389 (among others), and I and my companions request a private audience with you before we go public with our testimonies.”
After a whole month of keeping me waiting, on May 12 I receive a response from an intermediary who says this:
“The Bishop for the (redacted) Catholic Diocese, (redacted), has asked Armada to investigate your claim of being sexually molested by a demon. He has asked for this investigation out of concern for your physical welfare. Armada has not been engaged to debate the Canonic laws as listed in your communication but only to confirm the event or deny that the sexual action took place by a human and not a spiritual demon. I would like to discuss this event with you on Thursday, May 14, 2020, at 10:00 a.m. I have arranged for you to call into a conference bridge at […] and enter the pin #: […]. Please confirm your availability by replying to this e-mail that your will be calling into the conference bridge on Thursday morning. I have attached the body of your note to Bishop (redacted) to validate that Armada is working on behalf of the diocese.”
And there it was, demanding 2 days response from me after keeping me waiting a month. I did not even see this email until the evening of May 15. Keep in mind: So you see, there is NO justification for my being challenged as to the claim I made regarding the ontological nature of what I said had SEXUALLY MOLESTED ME ON EASTER MORNING!!!
So, outraged on many counts, I reached out to the Chancellor myself on June 14:
“Deacon (redacted), as you are still the Chancellor for this Diocese, I want you to know what is going on. You extended your help to me once before, albeit *only after my father reached out* and that after 3 separate occasions of my seeking help from the Bishop/Chancery myself through a 9-11 year’s spanning. Yes, I am still *extremely* offended by that; I am not a mere peasant who is going to be ashamed, as if I had been graced with an audience by the – somehow – many majesties of a Royal Court, nor am I a dog to be satisfied with scraps of meat tossed to her before she is sent back on her way. I am a child of God and daughter of Holy Mother Church and I demand to be treated with the human decency and respect of one so owed – the Bishop is not the only one with canonical rights, I as a Lay woman have canonical Rights as well!”
The Chancellor did not respond to me. He contacted my father. (Oh good grief.) And through/with my father, planned a mutually convenient time/date to sit down and talk with the Bishop for the sake of reconciliation between he and I (that was wrong, and it was unsatisfactory). My two companions at Easter Mass were excluded from this invitation, and this matter has not been rectified since then. Leading up to this, my Dad and I discussed privately and were already of one mind that we make this focus on my personal case and needs rather than speak on behalf of any others, though I did pass along a letter from a friend to the Bishop at the end of the meeting.
We came together to meet on June 26, 9-10am, one man and one woman accompanying me, and with one man and one woman accompanying the Bishop; my Dad and Mom, and the Bishop’s Chancellor and the Chairwoman of the Diocese’s Marriage and Family Life Office. Protocol. What was the most unsatisfactory thing about it was that my cause of offense was not made an issue until the last 5 minutes, and the Bishop spent it in a defensive posture over his contacting Armada (it’s like Homeland Security services), saying “we have to take accusations of sexual abuse very seriously”…
Yeah, after a month, and despite my missive giving zero ambiguity. Seemed to be only one more thing that the modern Bishops do in order to appear on the surface like they are doing something about a serious matter, but really just blowing smoke.
The second most offensive thing was that when I was voicing my complaint, the Chairwoman interjected to try to rally me to the defense of those in authority – she asked me (I kid you not!) if I “want the Bishop’s job”. Now, apart from this she was very kind and considerate, and even was the first to bring up my having wanted to address the matter of my experience of Easter morning. The Bishop, for his part, at my asking, tried to convince me that he believes we Laity are “essential”, but as to be expected after starving me of the grace of the Sacraments and all of my situational ongoing necessities, there was no way to convince me of his consideration for me. The Chancellor and I revisited to this Bishop that we met in the year of his predecessor’s 75-year resignation, in 2018. There was consideration given by the chairwoman as to how we had gotten through the shutdown period, if there had been anything that had aided us in that time. They were relieved to learn that my Dad and I were both regular daily-Mass attendees prior to and following (we had not been wounded with nothing to show them for it; we love the Church and the Sacraments).
I would receive deliverance prayers twice from the Religious Priest after the suppression was lifted, and then determined to leave the Parish. I was done, fed up. When I asked that my name be removed from the registry, not long after that I met with the Pastor of the Parish, and aired some of my frustrations between crying in my anger; he listened well and he offered to pray some prayers over me but I was so fed up and felt that it would be just another occasion of self-betrayal that I turned down the offer.
After things picked up in the demonic drama, I traveled 45 minutes to an hour in order to receive deliverance prayers from a Tradition-oriented Priest, and he introduced me to Father Ripperger’s “Daily Prayers for the Auxilium Christianorum”, which has been helpful but has never been accomplished perfectly at 6am+12noon+6pm for a full month ever. But I persevere in the use of those prayers.
My spiritual director and I have gone over the other options I have that are available to me for further deliverance. I made a commute of 1.5 hours and got to talk with him in person for 4.
Every figure of significant authority in the Church in this Diocese seems determined to look at me and my situation as that of a broken child, and to treat me like a child, to be passed over, figuratively an inconvenience to be put into someone else’s lap; the problem with that is that the measure and levels of my suffering and affliction is the quality of that belonging to a grown woman. And to this day, they go on ignoring me. So, I have determined to go public myself, incrementally, which seems fitting and the more necessary.
Bishop, I think we need to “talk”. I am not so sure I can handle that in a civil manner right now, I will pray for it, but I think it’s going to need to happen again.
This time there needs to be a definitive and sincere (FROM YOU), irregardless of my showing the anger and hurt I feel from what you have put me through,
“I, as the Bishop, am committed to doing my part to secure and support your safety from demonic attack in this diocese.”
And that statement needs to be followed up with ACTION. CONCRETE ACTION. No “theater stunts” allowed.