Experiencing an Exorcism
I had an exorcism performed on me. Now I'm ready to talk about it. [Part 2 of 3]
Note: this piece is a direct continuation of a previous piece, “Preparing for an Exorcism”. You are highly encouraged to read this piece before this one, if you haven’t already:
The morning of my exorcism, one of the other facilitators who was set to be in the space with me, shared a vivid dream he had the previous night. Sean, a powerful psychotherapist and mentee of David, said he had seen all of the participants of the retreat we were on in Costa Rica (me and him included), hiking up to a cliff face with a fence along its edge. He had witnessed me pushing the fence on the cliff outwards, putting all the other participants in danger of falling to their death at the bottom of the cliff. He told me to “make of that what you will.”
It would later become apparent that he’d not been observing me in that dream. In truth, he had been observing the demon that he would come face-to-face with later that day.
There were ritualised and sacred elements that were necessary to bring the demon inhabiting me out into the open for interrogation. This began with setting up a dedicated altar within the yoga shala where this process would be taking place, and where I was invited to give a tobacco blessing before being smudged with sage. Other members who would be holding space for me in this container, who had being doing their own self-emancipation work as part of this retreat, were then invited into the space and were also smudged.
The entire group were then led through a Wim Hof exercise, which another member of the group had intuitively felt called to lead earlier in the day. It felt too artificial and forced to me before we began, and a part of me was keen to see this process done at a different point in the retreat. With hindsight, I realise it was absolutely necessary.
Darkness had fallen, meaning I could see my reflection in the glass walls of the shala entrance as we did this breathing exercise. It was my reflection, at first… until it began to morph and warp. My limbs became narrowed and contorted, my features shifted, and I could literally see a cloud of darkness emerging from me. I was not looking at myself: I was looking at my demon who was in the process of taking over my body.
I remained conscious of what was happening throughout the whole process of my exorcism, but I had very little control of my body. The little energy I was able to exert into my body went in to preventing this demon from seriously harming anyone. It’s what prevented me from strangling one participant, punching another in the face, and clawing or biting those who put their hands on me to imbibe me with their love. But the demon had full control of where I went and what I said. His words were foul, constantly playing games and mocking everything that the other facilitators (here, in the role of exorcists) said. Indeed, he even berated Sean with the line of “You saw this in the dream,” confirming that it was indeed this encounter that had been envisioned.
At one point, the demon made his way up to the altar using my body. The mushrooms that I’d picked as part of the previous day’s outings, intended as an offering for the altar, were strewn carelessly across it in a sacrilegious manner. The tobacco bundle I’d prepared as a prayer of strength was torn open and scattered in equally careless manner. A sense of dread came over me as I realised what was about to happen. One by one, he turned the six flowers placed on the altar upside down, until deciding it was time to flip the entire altar and send sand, seeds, flowers and all across the floor. The strongest of the participants were able to hold my body back and prevent the demon from flinging the intricately-carved wooden base out the window. Had I still had control of my body, I would have burst out in tears.
It didn’t take long for the energy to completely drain from my body - even for the demon. My body collapsed, completely limp, and I was lowered to the floor by the other members of the circle who were (literally) supporting me. The demon was turning his attention within, realising I was keeping him from unleashing as much fury as he could, and getting nowhere with David, Sean and the other facilitators who had realised his game. Afterwards, the other members of the retreat would tell me that my hands had gone completely cold, and that they knew full well that it wasn’t me inhabiting my body. I heard their loving words throughout the remainder of my exorcism, and I needed that reassurance. Had that not been there, I’m not sure I would have had the emotional strength to confront the demon as he turned his attention solely on me.
Mephistopheles is first mentioned by name in late 1500s Germany, where he is used in relation to describing the alchemist Faust. Shakespeare and Goethe would incorporate this figure into their own works and give us a more fleshed-out view of Mephistopheles as the figure which Faust makes a bargain with to act as an agent of the devil. He is regarded as a messenger of Satan, and operates through negation, corruption, lying and cheating. With this, however, he can be incredibly smart and charming.
I am admittedly yet to read Goethe’s Faust, and yet I find it curious that I was so engaged with German studies in school. It’s almost as if a part of me knew this entity within me had a particular connection with German folklore.
That said, I got the sense during my exorcism that this entity may well be older than his incarnation as Mephistopheles. It wouldn’t surprise me that this is just one mask and invention of this demon. The demon had named himself to me prior to setting off to Costa Rica and during my exorcism as Balatrussk, which you will find no record of online or in print. It became apparent to me first that this was simply a persona created by Mephistopholes as part of his process to inhabit my body, and this would be congruent with his nature as a trickster.
This was confirmed to me afterwards by Sean, who realised that this was indeed Mephistopheles - only because he had met Mephistopheles before. In his practise as a psychotherapist, he had once had a client who had said some of the exact same words to him that I was saying during my active possession. The client had fired him before he could seriously work with this entity that he struggled to understand. But he knew it was the exact same entity, and that it was clear it was Mephistopheles. He said this much aloud during the latter portions of my exorcism, in which my body would make tormented sounds from time to time in-between periods of deep rest in its attempts to expel this entity. And, just like me, he was terrified by it.
While I had no concept of time in my possessed state, my body would remain in a state of semi-dormancy for a few hours while our struggle moved into a different spiritual realm. Here, I would face against Balatrussk - revealing himself to be a mask of Mephistopheles - whipping my tortured being with the traumatic memories and negative belief systems of my past. And yet, it was in this torture that I felt my own spirit strengthen.
Most of the other members of the circle broke off for dinner, drained by the process and sensing the threat of danger to them was over. Sean, however, stayed with a watchful eye over me. He continued with attempts to reassure me (and perhaps himself) and later confided in me that he had reached the point where he was ready to fully sacrifice his own body and being in order to take this demon out of me.
Although I had no idea that this is what he was thinking, it was at this time that something dramatic happened. I was transported to a place spiritually that I had only ever been once before, during a deep meditation. It is a red sandstone desert in perpetual twilight, with purple skies constantly pierced by lightning and giants roaming in the distance, so big that only their feet were visible.
The last and only time I was here, I had met Christ. He had a blurred face, but I knew instinctively it was him. Now, he had returned again, and me and him stood side-by-side, facing Mephistopholes standing a few feet away. The messenger of God had come to meet with the messenger of Satan. Still with blurred face, he shared these words:
The time has come to let go. Yes, the world will become a darker place - and that’s okay. I will be there for them.
In this moment, I turned to Christ and watched his face become unblurred, his features clear for the first time. I turned back to Mephistopheles, and watched him dissolve before by eyes. Not banished eternally, but gone from my body. In an instant, I was back in control of my body and returned into the physical world. I opened my eyes to be greeted by Sean looking at me. And I said to him “He’s gone.”
There was no crawling up walls, no levitating, no Satanic chants. But everyone in that room knew they’d been in the presence of a demon. There’s a lot of intuitively-communicated information and insights I had as a result of this experience, as well as a visitation by angels the following day. We will need a dedicated post, however, to give justice to that and bring us up to the present day.
Thank you all for making time to read this piece. Leave a comment to let me know what shifted for you as you read this piece:
I look forward to bringing you more soon.
With gratitude,
Tom
Poetry is the language of the soul. It’s time to listen to what it has to say.
Greetings Tom, I hope you’re well, and I send good wishes for the new year.
I’ve been seeing your notes on my feed recently, always interesting, thank you.
You may enjoy the approach I take to history, philosophy grounded in obscure historical literature.
Here’s one you may enjoy:
https://open.substack.com/pub/jordannuttall/p/16th-century-demonology?r=4f55i2&utm_medium=ios