As her human self stood center stage, beginning the commercial break with the upbeat chipper of the perfect call center employee, complete with HR-approved, positive grins and cheekiness, Iona’s Tiefling ducked around the corner at the edge of the stage, practically doubling over into a heap with the sharp honking sound of overwhelmed everything that brought to mind the image of someone taking a drunk, angry goose and stepping on it. Its sudden crack through the light humor to break the tension in the room was likely enough to scare some of the audience members, going by Phobos’s twisted giggle from the corner of the backstage area. The sound was so sinister, it made her snort and relax a little, but she still felt like she’d gone five rounds with ogre armed with a fuck-stick.

"That was quite the speech,” Aphrodite said as she stepped out of the shadows near her sons to come over and look down at her with a sympathetic smile. “You ok?”

“Oh, hi, Mark,” she said sarcastically. “No, I’m not alright, I’m a fucking train wreck,” she said with a laugh. “Why do I feel like I just started a revolution?”

“Because you kinda did,” the goddess said, still with sympathy.

“Don’t fuckin’ look at me with those eyes full of pity,” Iona said. “What? Nu-uh. I’m a Hufflepuff, not a Gryffindor."

“I don’t see what you House has to do with you leading a revolution, oh wait,” Aphrodite said as her voice turned contemplative. “You know your audience,” she concluded, making Iona snort a laugh.

“Take my glorious Tiefling self, trained by Aphrodite in the art of the Divine Feminine, with a hard streak of the Divine Masculine thrown in for a backbone and make it a fucking mascot,” she said with a deadpan expression. “And, if people don’t want to see Fiendish iconography, this character was built on a Changeling. I just found a skin I could feel comfortable in if I decided to cosplay. There is no way in fucking Florida, Tartarus, or the fucking Nine Hells that I will ever lead a fucking revolution. All you needed was something, an idea that people could share, that would cross all boundaries like there were none to united the bridges and open clear lines of communication. That was the deal. I have given you all you need to get started. And I cannot channel that much energy regularly, Auntie, it’ll fry my Meat Suit. Please, don’t make me lead a revolution. I would be a martyr so quick, probably blowing myself just to prove to people,” she said and then stopped as she realized, she’d be labeled a terrorist. “As spirits one Earth, piloting meat suits, we are all finally equal. No currency, no privilege, other than being alive and in our own human bodies. We are finally within grasp of breaking the cycle of violence in our lifetimes. Demons are designed to break the chains that drag the souls down into the Darkness that don’t need to be there. We know which ones belong to us because it’s not painful to be around them. We’re used to what others would consider offensively fucked up situations, fuck we laugh about it. The handholding and the coddling that Light and innocent souls, who have never experienced it, will never understand. That picture it and their eyes fill with pity, just like that,” she said, gesturing to the goddess. “The Diamonas, like myself, are the only smart enough to know better, too dumb to quit, know how to use magic, and are always professions. We deal with demons every day, so we know the names and the lessons. Even if our Meat Brains don’t remember, the sigils on our spirits tell our tale. In the meantime, during our human lives, we are training for the promotion we’ll get in the Underworld. As demons we built nightmares, to show people their inner demons. But, if we can wake the fuck up before the Fields of Asphodel end up flooded, get the collective spirits of the world to bleed that shit off in a safe environment, we get to build Elysiums,” she said and then winced at the sudden pang of nostalgia that shot two stray tears forward before she could stop them. Getting angry at herself for letting Aphrodite’s presence influence her, she wiped away the tears and asked, “Why are you here? We’re in the middle of a dress rehearsal. I love you, really,” she started and Aphrodite waved it away.

“You sound like my boys,” she said. “I know being in the presence of Love can be painful for you,” she said. “But I wanted to show you some support.”

“Thanks,” she said with a sigh, sucked it up, and hugged her, trying not to break down. “Ugh,” she growled at herself as she hit the pause button on the audience. “The joys of the Theater of the Id. When I need a break to just stop and breathe, think for a minute, I can. Even if the audience is full of live spirits, it’ll just be the commercial break that never ends,” she said, and the Twins chuckled.

“You’re not going to leave them like that are you?” Aphrodite asked in concern.

“No,” Iona said, then considered it with a smirk when the goddess’s back was turned before schooling her expression and turning back around to look out at the assembled spirits. “A few more egregores than I was expecting for a rehearsal. I’m just editing at this point.”

“Your intent is clear and you’re putting in the work,” she said. “You’re getting a lot of attention.”

Dread twisted in her gut as she started counting dark spirits and realized there was one more than expected. Worse was the fact that she didn’t recognize his name or his lesson, which meant she hadn’t learned it yet. Suddenly, it clicked as to why Aphrodite would be there. She wasn’t sure which scared her the most, the idea that it was the news she’d been dreading receiving or if it was something entirely different. Before she could look away, the spirit that should have been frozen with the others, turned to look at her, its long, hooked nose hanging down like a drip below to swept-back horns as black as its skin, with a grin spreading slowly in recognition revealing a jagged mess of rotting teeth. She felt like she was going to be sick and backed up a step before she could stop herself. Taking a shaking breath, she squared her shoulders again and blinked tears from her eyes. She expected him to lunge. That’s what they always did. Instead, he sat back, crossed his thin, knobby legs, as wiggled his fingers in hello.

“Shadow Working with the help of the gods can be a nearly painless process,” she said. “All people have to do is let go and choose to move forward instead of letting their inner demons keep dragging them down. But some don’t know how,” she said as things started clicking into place. “I know why I ended up with the Demon Deck,” she said almost sadly, the only pity she would afford.

“Why?” Aphrodite asked in concern.

“Because I’m a Shadow Worker,” she said. “I said it as a joke, and I thought it would just be a part of the cosplay to have business cards. But, I’m not sure it is.”

“Every card you draw, if you haven’t learned their lesson first hand,” Aphrodite said as her eyebrows knit together.

“I know,” she said. “That was the deal. If I haven’t learned firsthand, they can take possession until such a time as I can demonstrate their lesson in action. And there’s one I have never met out in the audience. I don’t think that’s a coincidence.”

“Don't,” Aphrodite said with a wince.

“I have to,” she said and turned back to face the demon she didn’t know, took a deep breath, and nodded to his delight. Finally, he lunged.

*****

Demonic possession is a difficult subject to research. The vast majority of publicly available knowledge and resources are written by those who practice the Abrahamic Religions and believe demons to be their enemy and the enemy of their god, listing the stage of possession as Infestation, Oppression, and Possession before going straight into a cinematic, death-defying battle for the possessed person’s spirit between the inhabiting demon and the religious authority being used to cast them out. When one thinks of Demonic Possession, it often brings to mind films like The Exorcist, or grainy home movies of people convulsing and screaming as a person of Spiritual Authority prays and chants aggressively at them, trying to force the Demonic Spirit out of them. It was for this reason that I knew, going into this project, anything I said to the contrary would immediately be refused as creative storytelling, lies told by the demons, or dismissed as an attempt to garner attention because my experience does not align with the accounts where the demons were the opposition.

In the accounts often depicted in the media, the Demonic Possession was the result of a demon first causing the possessed person to question their reality, breaking through the layers of mental defenses of skepticism and dismissal, using their fear of being labeled as crazy to ensure their silence as they worked to infiltrate their mind; the stage of Infestation. This stage can appear as a routine haunting; moving objects, odd noises, and so on. This is all a calculated move to slowly break through to the individual that has been targeted by the demons. As soon as the target is willing to consider that the experiences they are having might be the result of something dealing with spirits, it opens just enough of a crack for the demon to slip through. In the second stage, the target’s mind begins to break down, manifesting in delusions, depression, violence, etc. Eventually, if not exorcised before this point, a full-blown possession will take place. Demons, like the gods, are egregore spirits. They have never taken their own physical form on Earth, relegated to an existence devoid of physical sensory data.

The gods, when accepted and embraced by their followers, can tap into human spirits and experience human sensation in a safe, passive way. Hades, for example, loves rich, bold coffees without sugar or cream, so when I get up in the morning, I drink black coffee for my first cup for him (usually Death Wish brand), even though I prefer a small amount of creamer with my coffee, as opposed to pouring it down the drain or out onto the ground. This is to allows Hades to actually taste the coffee and spares me the feeling of being wasteful.

The demons, however, do not have followers that understand this and, as a result, to experience what it is like to have physical senses, either need to earn it or possess a human. The exorcisms we see in the media are often the result of demons trying to take a shortcut, refusing to earn the right to walk in their own human skin, live their own human life, and trying to forcefully eject the human spirit from the vessel so that they can take it for their own. When an exorcism is performed, the god that the exorcist invokes is forced into the human’s vessel as a way to eject the demon, which is the cause of the convulsions and outbursts of violence as the two egregore spirits battle for dominance. Cases like these have only gotten more common since the Abrahamic Religions began shutting out the older faiths and the demons’ directives and purposes have been ignored or forgotten by the human population. The only information I could find that even mentioned the demons’ original purpose was a single line: Verter, Bradford (1999). Contemporary American Religions. Gale eBooks: Macmillan Reference USA. p. 187, "In many of the Diasporic traditional African religions, possessing demons are not necessarily harmful or evil, but are rather seeking to rebuke misconduct in the living."

It wasn’t much, but it was enough to establish a bit of understanding as to why I did not have the kind of experience one often associates with the subject of possession. First, there was no Infestation in my case; the demons didn’t need to break down my mental defenses because I had dropped my guard on my own, knowing that spirits are real and with the possibility of demonic possession in the forefront of my mind. My thoughts? “What’s the worst that could happen? They’ll make me want to kill myself? Been there, done that, still here.” I hadn’t just opened myself up to them, I had issued them a challenge, so they were able to skip that step.

Second, I did not view demons as the enemy. I saw them as spirits that were born from and fed on the negativity of man, and I knew, from firsthand experience, that a person who had only ever experienced the worst life had to offer reflected that in their mentality and actions. I also understood the correlation between demonic imagery and demons as a metaphor for the negative thoughts and feelings one harbors within themselves, their personal legions. This meant that, as opposed to just trying to prove their own existence or take over my Meat Suit to experience life, the demons whose lessons I had begun to learn by reading their divinations in the accompanying reference that came with the deck came in with the notion of training my personal legions properly, lining them up and teaching them how to be effective enough for me to understand their purpose and methodology, beginning with Oppression.

During the second stage, the possessed person starts to break down mentally. This is the result of the demon kicking up all of the things one addresses during Shadow Working; the questions and fears they harbor and refuse to face because of how uncomfortable and painful the subjects tend to be. As the individual fights to suppress those painful aspects of their thoughts and memories, the demon gains more strength from their fear, self-loathing, and desperation to return to blissful ignorance. This was the same for me. But I did not seek religious aid for the possession, nor did I turn to the gods for their help. I’d lost my faith in them, saw myself as forsaken and abandoned. I was on my own.

The biggest question I get when those who know my history ask when it comes to possession is why? Why do demons possess people? Why do they want to take over human bodies? Why do they want to cause suffering and harm? The simple answer, it’s their job. The gentle voices and soft touch of the gods, when it comes to their followers, brings to mind the phrase, “spare the rod and spoil the child.” It is for that reason that demons take the opposite approach, beating down their charge to break through the ignorance of their actions, their naivety, and their refusal to accept their own bad behavior to show them that they are not as innocent as they wish to believe they are. This is not done with the intent to destroy. The destruction of the human race is not the demons’ goal. To do so would be to destroy their own food source, their own purpose. The demons’ method of teaching is for those too thick-headed and stubborn to recognize their own shortcomings and destructive behaviors.

However, if the demons are not exorcised allowing the person’s original consciousness can break free of their influence, the demon will begin to consume their spirit. At that point, the demon has a body of their own and will continue to teach their lessons, using their own methods, creating human victims in the form of those they abuse. For the possessed, this means the decent, empathetic portions of the spirit are isolated and trapped within the demon’s consciousness. If left unaddressed, the integration becomes so complete an exorcism cannot be performed without risking the death of the human’s physical vessel during the process. At that point, the spirit controlling the bodily functions is no longer the original human’s, and forcing the demon out, forcing it to relinquish control to a human spirit that is barely viable, causes the internal workings of the physical body to break down.

At this point, I cannot have an exorcism because the demonic spirit controlling my body is my own. This is another point in which my case differs from standard possession. The demons saw once they were in my mind, that I was one of them, but I had made the conscious choice to break the cycle of violence by recognizing my own destructive behaviors and taking the steps necessary to quell them. I wanted to be a good person. I wanted to learn to love those around me without trying to force them into being righteous to earn that love. I wanted to learn how to love myself, not as a narcissist or a tyrant would, but as someone who genuinely cared about the people around me and wanted to feel and be better, for myself and them. But, to do that, I had to be the one in control. I had to earn back the right to be human. Which meant I had to demonstrate to the Demon Lords, the demons named, known, and represented by the cards in my deck, that I knew and understood their lessons. I had to exorcise them myself. This meant that I had to have a lot of hard, painful conversations, beginning with the words, “I hate myself and here’s why.”

When these conversations happened, I did not feel in control of my body. It was my voice speaking my own truths, but I couldn’t stop speaking until it was out, until it was acknowledged by the people it affected the most. As soon as I started speaking, the words just tumbled from my mouth, no matter how much it hurt to say them, or how much it hurt for others to hear them. The more I fought to stay silent, to temper the words and soften them, or take the blame off those that had been the cause of the negativity to spare them any guilt or pain, the more my body clenched and locked up, the more nauseous I felt, the more it felt like something was writhing inside me and clawing at the inside of my skin, the more I verbally attacked the person I was speaking to, honing in on the weaknesses they feared the most and digging at them until I broke them down if they refused to face them, chasing down their inner children and terrifying them, often resulting in the person lashing out. This was both my exorcism and my initiation. I had to understand what it meant to be like them.

With each lesson learned and demonstrated, I could feel the demon that taught that lesson let go, leaving their brand on my spirit to mark that I was passed their test and a legion of their own under my command to use in the Spiritual Simulations, giving me voices that do not spare me pain or treat me gently, when I needed a refresher course to help me move on, face my fears, and stand strong in the face of those that would cause me undue harm. That is why I can thank the demons and show them love, even after the damage they caused. In my case, I needed to become possessed to face the worst parts of myself. If I had not, I would have continued to believe that I was a victim of circumstance, innocent, helpless, and abandoned, and would never progress in my journey as a result. But you don’t need cards, or possession, to face the demons inside. All you need is bravery and the understanding that life may not go back to sunshine and rainbows, exactly as it had been when you are done self-exorcising your personal demons.

Shadow Work and Self-Exorcism are two sides of the same coin. Shadow Work is the acceptance of the self in all aspects, positive and negative, allowing the person doing it to find their original consciousness and strengthen it. This opens the mind to clearer communication with the spirits without the demons’ influence. Self-Exorcism is when there is more in the spirit than just the different aspects of the self. I, at my core, am a good person. I choose to be kind, open, and friendly to those I meet and care about the people around me. For a long time, I didn’t realize I had been abused psychologically and emotionally. I thought because there was no physical violence outside of the beatings I received from my sibling, which was dismissed as normal sibling rivalry, that I had no reason to claim childhood trauma. I believed it's not abuse unless there was physical evidence of it happening. I didn’t realize I had my own demons to contend with, without an egregore spirit exacerbating it.

Growing up, I thought what happened in my home was normal. I was, in fact, more traumatized to find out that it wasn't than by the experiences themselves. My spirit had been insulted from the damage, my mind blocking out the worst of it until the demons forced me to see how fractured my spirit had become by refusing to accept that I had been victimized, leaving myself open for it to continue. With the help of the demons, painful as it might have been, I was able to face it head-on and take the steps needed to slowly untangle myself from the control of the humans that enjoyed keeping me in a position of subjugation in the hopes of living vicariously through me to realize their own agenda, forcing me to live their dreams. Without them, I would not be here, I would not be myself, I would not have the tools I need to continue forward on a path of my own design. I would have always been afraid.

That being said, I still would not recommend repeating my actions to anyone. It was an experience I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. It was a violation in the deepest sense that left me ill, aching, and isolated when my words alienated those that couldn’t handle hearing them. After the self-exorcism, I could count my remaining friends on one hand with fingers left over. Those that remained became my chosen family, regardless of how often I spoke to them. When all was said and done, my life was in shambles and I was left to pick up the pieces, am still picking them up on my own. My experience also left me vulnerable to it happening again, though I am aware of this and have agreed to the terms set forward by the demons in my deck. They will not possess on a whim; they will leave me alone to do as I will unless I refuse to see when not learning their lesson threatens my life and/or my freedom. While writing this story, trying to change my circumstances, the demons came back to show me a truth that I was refusing to see.

The following is a demonstration of Self-Exorcism, utilizing autonomic writing as a tool to force me into acceptance by rereading my words and feeling the weight of their truth, no matter how painful. At the time, I didn’t realize that’s what I was doing. I thought I was just venting. But, through the magic of editing and reflection, I saw it well enough to put the warnings first. The reason I am choosing to share the transcript of the conversation I had with Cassia is not to air out my dirty laundry, in fact, I struggled with myself, and continue to do so, about sharing it because it paints a good man I care deeply about in a bad light when I have always believed, if you don’t have anything nice to say, shut the fuck up. I am choosing to share it because it demonstrates the process from beginning to end without the religious overtones and without exaltation to the deities for making it through.

*****

Eurynome – Beware of holding on to things past their natural end; focus on allowing grief and loss to run their natural course; move on to a new cycle.

*****

6/26/2021

Cassia — Today at 10:21 AM

Morning

Iona — Today at 6:48 PM

Eight hours later... Morning

Cassia — Today at 7:11 PM

You ok sis?

Iona — Today at 7:12 PM

Oh yeah, just fine, got a new demon inside me, so the space-time continuum is a little wonky but hey. It’s Saturday.

Cassia — Today at 7:21 PM

Oh fuck

Iona — Today at 7:22 PM

Meh *waves hands*

As long as I keep Yahweh's tea in his cup, try not to dick wave, and stay calm, it'll be fine.

*****

Just so you know, this bravado is more because I was slightly distracted and trying not to get angry at John Boy for tuning me out while I was trying to talk to him about this project. Inside I was a whirling ball of neurosis as my body started to shake and I had to clamp down to keep from exploding.

*****

Cassia — Today at 7:53 PM

If you say so

I worry about you, ya know

Iona — Today at 7:54 PM

I'll be fine

*****

Externally, maybe. Internally, though was another matter.

*****

Just feeling isolated in my head because the only person I have in the flesh to talk to about the project practices passive placation.

Sits there and listens with that resounding spiritual soundtrack of "I really don't care, I'm just letting her get it out so she'll feel better" when he knows that it doesn’t.

Yeah, thanks for letting it all go in one ear and out the other when I'm trying to get you excited and trying to get you to believe that things are finally happening. Now, I'm sitting back and questioning why I even bother.

*****

I hated myself for just that small amount of resentment after he’d stuck with me through so much. If there was one demon that would be the loudest in all of the legion, it would be me. Shredding myself with every slur in the book against my own character, firing away at every insecurity.

*****

Cassia — Today at 7:57 PM

I know that feeling

Iona — Today at 7:58 PM

Chances are he won't even read what I've written, he never does, so I thought that meant I could talk to him about my conversations with the deities and he'd be able to see that it's real, not just storytelling. But, since he’s “not into Spiritualism” he just tunes me out.

Cassia — Today at 7:58 PM

Had an ex like that and then he had the nerve to wonder why I stopped talking

Iona — Today at 7:59 PM

Oh, I told John Boy point blank that I can't talk to him anymore because it feels like all he's doing is patting me on the head, handing me a cookie, and telling me to go play.

Cassia — Today at 7:59 PM

So, patronizing

Iona — Today at 7:59 PM

All he does is sit there and stare.

Cassia — Today at 8:00 PM

I'm sorry sis

Is venting to me helping?

Iona — Today at 8:02 PM

Yeah, it is because I have been feeling guilty and resentful towards him for being so sweet, gentle, reliable, and kind, the American flag waving majestically behind him, the absolute pinnacle of perfection if I look at the perfect son-in-law my PARENTS envisioned for their version of me.

Now I can't talk to anyone at all unless it's in text or my head.

I’m practically mute physically.

Cassia — Today at 8:03 PM

Just remember something that makes him less perfect if it helps. Does he pick his nose and eat the boogies? Does he clip his toenails at odd times? Etc

Helps with the perfect picture

*****

Sorry, sweetheart, but that is way too superficial for this game.

*****

Iona — Today at 8:03 PM

He leaves me isolated in my head.

He abandons me with the demons all the time, even when I tell him I need him to help me get out.

Cassia — Today at 8:04 PM

That has to suck and I'm sorry he doesn't at least attempt to help. Even if he was utterly useless, the thought that he tried would be enough.

*****

Remember what I said about demons naturally ferreting out insecurities and character weaknesses?

*****

Iona — Today at 8:04 PM

I agree, but he's a coward who abandons me to deal with my parents, even when he's sitting next to me on the couch while they are verbally attacking me, ruthlessly, in front of him. Yes, when I’m working, he runs interference so I can concentrate, and I love him for that. But, when I’m being actively attacked, he just sits back and lets it happen because he “doesn’t like confrontation” when he knows that if I fight back, we’ll end up homeless. He knows they will listen to him because they always do. They adore him, so they actively care about his opinion, but he stays silent until they’re gone and tries to roll his eyes and wave it off, or worse start getting petty which makes me wonder if they are running off on him or if he’s reflecting his father, whom I can’t stand.

Cassia — Today at 8:04 PM

Ouch

*****

I really wish I was done.

*****

Iona — Today at 8:05 PM

And he refuses to see why I know that he and I will never get back together once the divorce is final. He refuses to see that he is just as much to blame.

Cassia — Today at 8:05 PM

Breathe, sis

*****

By this time, I was making a lot of typing errors (which isn’t normal for me) because I was crying and not looking up at the screen from the keyboard. Cassia could tell I was upset because of the typos.

*****

Iona — Today at 8:06 PM

He is exactly like his father and he claims he wants to change, but every time I try to help, he just stares at me or gets pissed off and starts crying until I take the blame for being a raging cunt-bag.

Cassia — Today at 8:06 PM

You can't save everyone and he just refuses to be helped. You can't feel guilty for that.

*****

I wanted to scream. I wanted to rip my hair out and choose violence when I tried to take her words to heart and let go of the guilt. I felt like, if I was alright with leaving him behind, I was being selfish.

*****

Iona — Today at 8:07 PM

And yet I do every time I look at him.

Because, at the end of the day, he's been taking care of me for ten years.

When I was trying to force him to listen

Basically, abusing him.

Our super squishy, oh-so-perfect relationship is fucking toxic.

And I will never get better with him around.

*****

And, there it was. The lesson the demon wanted me to learn. But I couldn’t let go of the guilt. So, the demon pushed harder.

*****

Cassia — Today at 8:09 PM

So, you admit the toxicity of your own and his actions and realize you can't force him.

And that makes you feel guilty.

Even though you yourself said we can't feel guilty for the past.

*****

Again, I wanted to scream. Letting go is easier when the source of the guilt is in the past. But I live with mine and am forced to reopen that wound every time I am around it.

*****

Iona — Today at 8:10 PM

This is my present.

This is every day without end.

Him and my parents.

Cassia — Today at 8:10 PM

Ah, but there will be an end, yes? Eventually.

*Hugs* it's going to end eventually and you can make it.

Iona — Today at 8:12 PM

Yeah, as soon as I can get out of my head long enough to continue the narrative.

Cassia — Today at 8:12 PM

You need a break though; you've been speeding along and wearing yourself out

*****

I know it wasn’t intended, but her gentleness was pissing me off. To a demon, gentleness is an insult that makes them feel weak. Regardless of the intent for the kindness, it agitates the demon into believing they have to show power. This brought it to the surface and suddenly, I was unaware of what I was typing until it was done and sent.

*****

Iona — Today at 8:23 PM

Here's an experiment the little kiddies can try.

*****

Don’t.

*****

Say fuck it and let go, drop your guards and tell the universe, I don't believe in demons, they can't affect me. I promise you, as soon as you do, you'll get possessed. Now, once that happens it becomes a spiritual battleground inside you as the demons, out for dominance, or spite, because they’re bored, or because they felt the challenge in your voice when you dared them to do it, wrestle with the gods who are Egregore spirits who need the Light that we produce to survive.

Now, the gods are starving because Yahweh got greedy and started trying to push them out. But I needed the demons to see how they affected my real-world environment. Otherwise, the only three options I had were to try and write everything out in a format that a regular person could understand, keep everything bottled up, and slowly lose control over the demons inside me, or die. Tried to die, oh I tried, but the demons are keeping me alive, it's just too much fun for them. The gods came in and I thought, yes, I can do this. By the time the gods get done exorcising the demons, I might have enough usable content to set off a beacon to mark the start of the path while I plug along ahead, forging the rest of it until the rest of the world gets on the same page.

But the way he glazes over, he doesn't see how scared I am that I'm just losing my grip on reality.

I am half tempted to look him in the eye and tell him to get back together with his first wife. Tell her he wants to work as a slave to take care of her for the rest of his days and be told how he feels and thinks because that's exactly what he's doing with me. I thought when we got together, I was dealing with a grown-ass man who understands there is more to life than just the day in and day out.

I made the mistake of thinking his silence was contemplation, not simplicity.

He is a highly intelligent man. He knows a lot of stuff. But his compartmentalization cuts him off from integrating all aspects of his own spirit, and it's hard to connect with fragments.

I need them all thrown up into a constellation of anxieties I can admire, get lost in the beauty of it as I look, and try to see the gods' outlines in them.

I need someone who will stand up for me and to me because they understand that I need it. That I need them to believe me when they listen, so I can see they're invested, ask questions, help me see it from their perspective.

When I first started this, I started writing Dear Soulmate because I knew I would be alone without them. They were the only ones who understood me and gave me everything that I needed in a companion except a body because then things would get complicated.

Grizzly got onto me about not needed another person to validate my existence. And he's right. I don’t need another person to validate my worth. I need another person to validate that magic exists and that I'm not crazy. I need another person to hold on to when I start to shake and question which reality I'm living. I need an anchor.

I know who I am. I know what I need. But listing it all out, I look at it and think, that sounds like a fucking unicorn to me.

And, if magic isn't real, then they don't exist, which means I always have been and will always be alone in my head.

I imagined entire worlds, from D&D to Toledo, Ohio, where we could find a place and feel connected, accepted, and at peace enough to be able to rest, heal if needed, then try to do something impactful in a way that could make the world a better place. But John Boy is content on just sitting there with his thumb up his ass and doesn't see how much that really hurts when I'm not talking about starting a charity or a foundation, but a movement towards the future.

And he can't even answer the simple question as to why he doesn't want to believe.

Even worse was as I was sitting here typing out the very first bit of it, had just posted why venting was helping, chewing on my lip in silence, not looking him in the eye, and he came over, kissed the top of my head and went to bed like I hadn't just told him that I felt isolated in my head and I couldn't talk to him.

Cassia — Today at 8:49 PM

Damn sis

Iona — Today at 8:49 PM

This is my life.

This is what I go through every day.

And I wonder why I have to write to make sense of what the gods are saying.

Cassia — Today at 8:51 PM

Thank you for sharing and not hiding it from me

Iona — Today at 8:53 PM

Oh, I only shared it because, I know, if he reads it, he'll know exactly why I knew we were irrevocably broken when I started talking divorce with him. It wasn't a threat of me leaving, it was me warning him that it was happening, but I had too much love and respect for him to blindside him with it. He and I agree to split up before I started the D&D Game where I met you. Hell, we started talking about separating, at the very least, before I even got the Demon Deck. I started to feel trapped with him after I ended up in the ER with sepsis, realized I died there for a tick, and started to wonder what the hell I was doing living the life my parents wanted for me when I knew that wasn't me.

And I tried, I tried to piss him off, tried to get him to see how ugly I was. But he just sat there.

It wasn't because he was a hero, it wasn’t because he loves me. It was because he was too much of a coward to see that he was enjoying it so he could either embrace being a submissive masochist or grow a pair to stand up for himself.

I would know if he actually started to see the truth and read my writing because he would walk out on his own. Not pitching a huge fuss, not being dramatic, just packing his shit, moving out, and never speaking to me again. And that's only if he didn't try to practice passive placation and say he'll try to do better only to go right back to doing the same shit.

But, like everyone else who would abandon or attack me for it, by the time he does read it if he reads it, I'll be gone. He'll think it was just the plan to move out of my parents' place, get the divorce as soon as we could afford it, but I'm not waiting around. As soon as I have enough to do it on my own, I will. Even if it means he has to move back in with his own parents instead of moving into his own place away from them. I'm not protecting him at the cost of my freedom.

I can't. Not anymore.

*****

At this point, I was starting to regain my senses, realizing what I’d written and feeling the weight of the truth displayed in plain English, in my own voice. I didn’t feel better. Instead, I felt hollow, knowing that I was going to have to break John Boy’s heart all over again until he accepted it, too.

*****

I just have to let go of the resentment long enough for the status quo to settle back in. Both Mom and Dad saw me crying, tried to ask about it, but I can't talk to them either. As soon as I do, that opens the door to them trying to get in my head and get me to do what they want me to do. They won't want to lose their perfect son, whom they dote on constantly while attacking my character, so I will be the one who is being too emotional and blowing things out of proportion or asking too much of him.

So, after they forget about me bawling in silence and telling them both to fuck off because I didn't want to get into it, everything will go back to normal.

And I won't have to worry about being left alone with my parents without him here to practice his passive placation on them so I can breathe.

This is what it's like when two crutches are in a relationship.

He's not a bad person. In fact, sometimes he's like a walking Serotonin Factory, total cinnamon bun. But that just makes me feel guiltier.

He is not a douche in any way, he's super sweet, and caring to a fault.

Gives great hugs.

He's a total teddy bear, right down to having the same depth of thinking.

Cassia — Today at 9:18 PM

*Hugs* at least you're getting all this out so you can get it out of your head.

*****

That what self-exorcism is. And you don’t need the Demon Lords’ help doing it.

*****

Iona — Today at 9:19 PM

That's why I thank the gods for you every time we talk, dude.

You, at this point, are the only one I can talk to without getting that same passive placation. I thought about talking to Grizzly, but I can't handle it from both men. It'll give me a complex where I start to believe that's all I will get from the male species. And I like dick too much to be a lesbian.

Cassia — Today at 9:22 PM

This is why I'm bi. Men too headache.

Iona — Today at 9:22 PM

Not all men.

I have met a few that I could sit back and talk to for hours.

*****

Apparently, remembering that not all men are like that was enough a soothing thought that a small flicker of inspiration hit, and I was able to move forward with the narrative, letting me know I was through the worst of it. The last thing that would be required to earn my brand and pass the demon’s test would be to confess it to John Boy.

That one took me a few days. July 4th, Independence Day, a holiday celebrating the spirit of Freedom, I got the Three of Hearts as my Tarot card for the day. I was already editing, making sense of what had happened. This was the Chapter I was on, reflecting on the conversation and realizing it aligned with one of the demons’ lessons. The day, the card, the lesson.

Two it’s a coincidence, three it’s a pattern.

We sat down, I explained the toxicity I saw, and he saw it, too. Neither of us wanted to admit it, but we’d reached the point where it was undeniable. We decided that when we moved out, we’d be going our separate ways, regardless of paperwork. We needed distance to detox and heal so we could salvage the friendship that was still in there, without the false hope of romantic reconciliation.

After that, the demon left, knowing I’d learned my lesson.

*****