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From Parasite to Pure: What Lead to the Takeover

I already discussed how the one entity came to me at 15 years old.  I also discussed through those first few years, I was noticing changes in me,  I also forgot to mention, I was even growing more depressed and suicidal.  Things were lifting up when I was 18 years old. I remember having a horrible birthday because there was fighting going on, and there I was being left alone as far as being sexually abused.  I also noticed at 15 years old, I was more sexually active. I would remember being bombed from a night of intense partying, and of course I did have relationships, but I had the issue of not being happy.  I had the issue that these men I were with were very unsatisfactory in my taste and only cared about me being there for their convenience.  So, I started drinking and toking a little bit more and slipped up with having encounters with a couple of other guys because they were giving me the attention I was craving.  Only to find out, they were treating me the same way.  I am not going to brag about this, and maybe this is going to sound like bragging.  I was a looker.  I kept up with appearances, kept my body weight maintained, and I still was that confident, happy go-lucky person everyone seemed to find out I was.  Beneath all of that, I was very miserable, very morbid, and still had the fascination of just wanting to die.  Until one November, when internet was becoming hot, I decided to create an account on Myspace.  I was a chat fanatic, always up for good, intellectual conversations, and even looked up things and was fascinated with the wonderful world of technology. I was 18 years old on that November, when I met a guy on there who really grabbed my attention.  I never met a guy so respectful, so gentleman like, so talented, and so intelligent.  I assumed he was the same age as I was when we first started conversing.  About a week later, after we have talked to so frequently, and we continued to talk frequently for many years, he admits to me his real age.  He told me he was actually ten years younger than my junior, and I called him a bluff.  With someone who seemed so intelligent, mature, respectful, and a high talent with an incredible imagination, would you believe it?  I was laughing messaging him back saying something on the lines of ya right when he showed me a picture of himself.  No joke, he was very much like the little boy age he described.  I blinked my eyes a little and my mouth was gaped wide open.  I could not believe someone at this age could have the mentality of someone slightly older than me.  


Usually a girl my age would turn away at that in a heartbeat, and usually a girl who was ten years older than 8 years old would have to end the conversation because of that age difference, but I didn’t care.  I was shocked, yes, but it just didn’t matter to me about him. There was something about him that just drew me to him instantly, and I felt this connection with him like I never felt with any other in that short lifetime I lived.  When we first met and starting talking, it seemed the entity was lying dormant and everything morbid and bad that was living inside me just vanished.  I accepted him as he was.  Things were still the same, and I remember I would look forward to finding him on Myspace almost every night just to talk to him.  I was thinking at first, I found myself a new best friend.  I found myself someone who understood me, as I felt not one person did.  The age did not bother me, and I made myself a kindred soul.  I was always excited to speak with him, and we would laugh and talk about everything.  He was there for me when not one person was, he was the friend that I needed so badly and never did I think I deserved such a person in my life.  I found him adorable, funny, intelligent, and very talented.  Very impressive for a boy his age.  I never met someone I had so much in common with.  I never met anyone who I just felt right at home with, even safe.  At 18 years old, meeting him gave me hope.  There was one issue, however.  The age was one factor, but the distance at the time was another because I never was what you call financially stable.  When we first met, it was just a strictly platonic friendship.  Endless hours on end we would talk.  I felt so home and connected with him that nothing else really mattered, but because of those two factors, I felt I could not be with him.  It was friendship until I reached 24 years old.  That was when we both had feelings for each other, or at least that was when it was exposed.  Even when i was 18 years old, the thought I had to keep to myself was this man has to be the one.  I had met another guy and began dating him, it hurt him.  I felt so bad all inside, and I felt I had to be tough about the issue, and deep inside it was breaking my heart.  I remember he called me a derogatory name and did not speak to me for about a week.  It was one of the most miserable weeks ever.  I recall, even when i began dating someone else, I would lay in bed crying at night.  I would lay in bed how much I missed talking to him, and how I would never hear from him again.  I was devastated that I could not be with him, and he had no idea how hard that was for me.  I had a huge crush on an 8 year old.  I knew it was going to be impossible to get with him at that age, and I also knew the distance with the finances was not going to get me anywhere with it either.  I didn’t want to move on, but I felt I had to. Then that week later, he called me.  I was so happy, and I was like so sorry.  We both made the peace and the same thing continued on until I reached 24, things were getting highly intense between us.  I always had feelings for him, and as a matter of fact, I never had anyone touch my heart so much the way he did.  I know that I am rearing off the subject, but this man has a huge impact on what has happened to me.  I will explain later why. 


When I was 21, things were the same with me.  Me and him started conversing on and off, and I always expected to see him on Myspace.  Then, he stopped appearing so much.  He would disappear for weeks on end.  I was always worried about him.  I was always worried if he was alright, or if he was just like everyone else and abandoned me too?  It seemed to me everyone always left me. Even before this entity took over, everyone abandoned me or left me for someone else because obviously I was not good enough.  I remember how wonderful he made me feel, and I was shocked because someone like him who was so good, so honest, and so sweet would want with someone who was used up, tossed aside, worn out, and worthless as me.  On those times he disappeared, I was depressed again. That was around the time love songs started to really make me cry and angry.  At the time, I never understood why love songs would make me feel that way until I realize now why. Then, he would come back and everything would be as was.  I never knew what happened to him at those times.  I thought he just left me when he would disappear like that.  I was in that same relationship with that guy until I turned 21.  Things didn’t work out between me and that guy, and I haven’t heard from my Myspace flame in months.  


I started drinking again, I started listening to angry, violent music, and I started to party again.  I am now recalling a few months after I turned 18, was when promiscuity hit me.  I stopped caring, and that was before I met my Myspace guy.  I was in a relationship that turned sour, and I just gave up dating for awhile and kind of had too much overindulgence in the alcohol and marijuana I would sleep with the first guy I seen.  Throughout my life, and what is really sad as most of my friends lost their virginity at 15; I lost mine at 13.  I am not going to go into detail about it, as it was another type of abusive situation, but I felt so weird and awkward that everyone technically thought I lost it at 15 years old.  I was told at the age of 13 men liked girls who put out, and that is the only way they will go out with you.  I was the party girl at 15, and I was told that being that slut was the only way these men are ever going to want to be with you.  Being a whore was what men wanted, and being that whore I was.  Most of the times, I didn’t even want to sleep with these losers.  I would disappear in my mind and be somewhere else when it would happen, and then come back and feel real ashamed and awkward.  I did it because I wanted attention, and I wanted love.  There were even occasions I would imagine having these encounters with my Myspace guy because in all reality, I would have numerous of fantasies of being with him in all ways then just sexually.  He made me feel wonderful as I would disappear, and I felt it was him.  There were many nights, I would cry myself to sleep.  There were many nights I had these dreams and fantasies about me and him, and I would imagine us two just laying together in each other arms conversing as we always did online. He never knew how much I have thought about him, and he never knew how devastated I was when he would disappear on and off and even months at a time.  


At 21 things were getting really horrible for me.  I haven’t heard from the Myspace guy in months, as I have said.  I moved on and met this guy, who I was engaged to and used to work for as a waitress when I was 16, he had a somewhat crush on me then although he would never admit that.  I remember when I first started working for him and his two brothers, and he looked at me twice.  I was horribly drunk when we met.  I was getting very wild and too free-spirited.  After they closed the restaurant business a couple years later, months after I quit, I did not see him again until 21.  I remember going out with a friend, and she decided she wanted to go see him. We attempted a few days before, but he was not at home.  Then we show back up that weekend, after he found out I was there to see him and got excited, and we met in his bathroom (of course doors opened.) I was not even going to attempt to make any move on him, and I said Hi, long time.  He just kissed me.  Then we started seeing each other to where it got serious.  It was serious, yes, but it was horrible.  I did not realize what kind of man he really was.  He was a narcissist, alcoholic.  He was horribly superficial, insecure, sad, and pathetic.  He thought he was the maker’s gift of women, and he thought he was somebody.  At that time, it was the beginning of the entity making the appearance.  Mind you that I was not sure at the time if the entity was male or female.  I would see that shadow figure, but I could not make it out.  I thought I was just overindulging on the substances again, so i always blew it off.  


He was horribly abusive.  I have endured another physically abusive relationship way prior to this one.  I can say that one was nothing compared to this.  He was one of the worse people i have ever met, especially when he drank.  When he would try and go sober, the funny thing was he was the best person you could ever meet. The first encounter, and it was mostly mental and verbal abuse with him, he called me the most horrible names a person could think of.  I was pretty much nothing but a white woman.  I was beginning to leave, thinking to myself how i was not going to stand for this, he stops me and sweet talks me to the point of how jealous he was of me talking to other men and stuff.  So, I let it go.  One night things got way out of hand, he was being real mean and verbal to me  He was highly intoxicated to the point of near delusional, and I was drunk to the point of blind.  We got into a fight.  His words and what he said, after warning him he better stop, drove me to the point of blind fury.  I remember only seeing red.  What did it was he wanted me to kill him by saying the words show me death, bitch.  So, as the red was still in my sights, not even knowing how far it would go, I choked him.  I choked him to the point his face was getting puffy and purple that he literally fought me off.  It was his fault as to why he hit me.  He provoked me to do it after all the cruel things he said to me and pushing me to the point to make me choke him.  He wanted death, as I knew it then, and he enforced me to do it.  So, he would push my buttons to make me do it, and I did.  I didn’t remember nearly killing him, but all I can remember were those words show me death, bitch.  I remember leaving and the next morning I had a black eye, parts of my face and arms were bruised, had some bruises on the side of my back.  I was beat up pretty badly, and I am not sure if I should take full responsibility of that.  The only thing I can say is to those who knew me know I would never do anything like that, and they also know that I was pushed.  I knew at that age, I was starting to lose me.  I would of never done anything like that.  I would have walked away.  


For two weeks, I kept my distance with him.  Then he started driving by my house, calling the phone and hanging up, and I did not know it was him doing it.  I just thought he kept driving by my parent’s house.  I went walking like I used to, thinking i was going to get myself together again and trying to avoid him, he drove right by me as I was walking.  At first I didn’t know what to think.  So, he calls me or I called him, and I can’t remember but I thought he was never going to do what he did again, and I went over there and gave him another chance.  The funny thing was I gave him chance after chance, as I did with most of the others. Everything seemed fine for awhile, and I went to go talk to a male friend I knew for years.  It didn’t please him much, and again he started running his mouth.  I was a whore, he would say bitch, give me a beer, he would call me useless and worthless and no matter what dreams and goals I would have they would not be accomplished because I sucked at them and not one person will ever be interested anyways.  It went on and on, and all of a sudden, that is when he began to hit me.  I stopped hitting him after that one night, but he started flying at me.  He would take his hand, so he said, but it was his fist and hit me in the back of the head because he said that I was being such a whore.  I was not doing anything but talking to old friends.  Nothing I did ever pleased him.  No matter what I did, he was always like the rest of the people who wanted to see me fail.  


The worst mistake I ever made with him was opening up to him about all the intimate details of what had happened to me, how I felt I can never recover from it, and I thought I could trust him.  After the verbal and mental abuse he put on me, there was sexual abuse in the relationship as well.  It got to where I had to disappear when the intimacy rate hit because he would bring up to me to pretend he was this certain person having relations with me.  It made me sick.  I felt like I wanted to curl up and die, and I just laid there.  I tried fighting him off a couple of times, but I realized he was twice as strong as I was.  I could not fight him, and he would have these other types of sick, twisted encounters I didn’t want to do with him either.  Again, I was violated.  I know why I stayed, he killed my pride for one.  Secondly, he knew what he could do to bring me back.  It went on like this for nearly five years, and it got to where I did not even want to sleep in the same bed with him.  I started gaining weight, and of course, he humiliated me on that.  He would humiliate me publicly by slapping me in front of his friends, calling me bitch, fat, ugly, pour beer down my head, threw beer bottles at me, and the sick sexual stuff, and the hitting.  I was slowly losing myself.  


Three years later, the Myspace guy appears.  I just had internet on the computer, and I was so down and out at first that I just was pretty meek with him in the beginning.  I remember sayingwhere have you been and how are you, and things were back to normal.  I was feeling that peace and relief every time we spoke.  When I turned 24, that was when the truth and intensity came out.  At least with him, and I wanted so much to give everything I could for him.  I haven’t heard from him as frequent from 21 to 24, and I thought I lost him then.  He was in and out like a fading light I wanted to catch.  My heart leaped when he told me, and that is the honest truth.  He was 14, but that same problem still played.  I had no money to get to him, and I really wanted to leave.  The age was another factor, and I was scared because I feared someone would find out and send me to prison.  I knew he would not want that, but money was the main issue.  There were many times, I attempted to find ways to get to him.  There were many times, the thoughts pondered my mind of doing what he asked me to that night.  I felt for him so much, and I was abused, tortured, and hurt.  I felt there was no way out.  I had to reject him because the main reason was there was no way I could get to him.  I never had financial security, or at least enough, to get there to him. Towards the end, the age didn’t matter to me anymore.  It was the finances, and I even mentioned this to him on numerous times about it.  There were many times I almost stole a vehicle to get to him, but I knew he would not want me in prison for that either.  After we reunited, I felt that warm feeling inside me again.  He doesn’t know this.  He doesn’t know how much he meant to me, and how I loved conversing with him.  I wanted so desperately to be with him, but those finances were impossible.  We exchanged romantic gestures to each other, and you can say that it was a romantic friendship because we could not be together physically for that relationship.  He had my heart for so long, and I know what most of you are thinking for someone who was nearly twenty have such a heart for a child.  But, understand something.  He was not a child.  He was an old soul in a younger person’s body. I would never do anything to threaten anyone, as I am no pedophile.  I didn’t have any relations with him in that way at first.  It was not like that.  It was a very close friendship in the beginning, and it went that way for 6 years until feelings came to surface.  That in itself is another story.   I remember the last time we spoke, and I thought I didn’t speak to him for ten years after that.  As much as I felt for him, I really wanted him to be happy.  Deep down inside, I wanted to be part of that happiness, but finances prevented me from doing so.  I tried every option I could, but I just could not do it.  It hurt.  He said to me he was joining the National Guard.  I paused for a moment as my heart sank with worry and fear of him never to return, but I knew I couldn’t have him as much as I wanted him.  I had to be the better person and wish him the best.  It hurt me so much to say that.  I was being horribly abused at that time, and it was getting way worse.  I wished him the best, and I even recall telling him that I loved him or maybe I dreamt I told him that.  I thought he would get in touch with me after basic training.  So, I waited for a bit.  Then, I realized I never heard from him again. I went to his profiles, his friends, and everything I could possibly think of to look for him. For a little longer than 8 months I have tried.  Not one person who we both have spoken with at those times knew anything.  It was as if he disappeared.  I wanted to believe he was happy with a family and that he was going great.  So, it went back to misery.  I was slowly letting myself go losing all hope.


This abusive relationship was just the icing on the cake or it was near the time the entity took over me.  I remember the day I left that man, and Ieft him for good.  I had a few affairs here and there, but they were nowhere near serious.  I was treated like crap by them as well too.  Nothing with me changed at all, until serious drugs entered my life.  I took an interest in cocaine and methamphetamines.   That was when I started self-mutilation.  I would cut.  I felt like I didn’t have the courage to end my life, so cutting seemed to be the only option of self-anger because nothing I ever did was right, and I was put here on this world to never have what I really wanted, in which it was love.  When I wanted that love, it felt like there was never no way I could have it.  I also noticed after the cutting, my rages grew even more intense, and then depression set in where I felt like nothing and was nothing.  The entity appeared to me more often just watching me, but I still could not see the entity.  It was still a shadow.  It reminds me of someone lying on their death bed waiting for death to come and take them away.  I started hearing voices and seeing shadows run right past me.  I was at the point where I was nearly dead.  The cocaine and methamphetamine issues started when I was in this abusive relationship.  Prior to that, i was only drinking and smoking marijuana and cigarettes.  Back to the day I left this man.


I remember I was just there.  I was growing more distant, rarely spoke, always walked around with my head down and arms wrapped across my chest.  My eyes were far away, my face was pale, and I remember my stomach always fluttering and my chest hurting.  My twin sister happened to be there, and she saw me.  I was so worn down, I was so weak, and I was disappearing.  I remember telling her I want to come home to my mom.  And, that is just what she did.  She made sure I got my things, and I left all that I had mostly behind. The man thought I would leave temporarily this time, but I didn’t come back.  We had a flings afterwards, but he treated me like a whore too.  After that, I heard he was seeing someone else and having these flings with me.  I ended it right then and there and never looked back. My mother thought I would seek professional help, as I was already in a psych ward for six days once.  She took me to this doctor who just kept pill pushing me.  I was on at least two anti-depressants, three anxiety medications, two side-affect medications, and two anti-psychotics.  I turned into a complete zombie.  All I remember is that I stopped talking to everyone, kept on drinking and my marijuana use got so bad that I would go through 1/4 oz a week.  I slept all the time, ate like a pig, could not walk, and there were other embarrassing incidents on this process too that I care not to discuss.  I was seeing this one guy I used to go to school with who had a huge crush on me.  Things were different, and I highly regret ever giving him the chance.  He was proud to call himself a loser, he was hanging around with thugs who cheated on their girlfriends, and he only wanted a piece of tail from me.  Of course, we were that “friends with benefits” thing.  He had an accident that changed him too, but that is irrelevant to what he did to me at the end.  I had a nice dinner made for him and his cousin, and he gives me the boot for no reason at all.  He said I could stay that night, but I left that night.  I had an apartment then, but I rarely stayed in it because I was already alone enough as it was, and there was something bad about that place that made me not want to stay there unless I had to.  I went to that apartment, but there was something else that was going on while I was seeing this guy.  I was being sexually abused again.  I do not want to go into the details about it, but all at the same time this was going on.  After I came clean with that, I was the bad guy.  I was the one who had the mental issues, and I was the one at fault for why it happened.  After all this was happening to me at once, that is when the takeover arrived.


I was at my apartment.  I had a bottle of Jim Beam in my freezer, and I had some marijuana left over.  I sat there listening to music or watching DVDs, as I can’t recall which.  I sat there in a trance. I had tears streaming down my face as I knew this was the last straw for me.  I could not take it anymore.  I had a bottle of prescription pills sitting beside me, and I was about to take them until I seen the entity.  That day was when I learned it was a female entity.  The shadow I was seeing when I was 15 years old was her.  She made her appearance to me.  She had long, black hair, innocent yet piercing black eyes, dark complected, and she wore a black dress that was provocative yet appropriate.  She caressed my face as my trance state body sat in my rolling rocking seat.  She shushed me, as my breath started to shorten, and I released out the worst crying spell I can recall ever having.  I am here now, and I never left you. It is time for me to take care of you now. I promise noone will ever hurt you again, get help to make it look good for them, and I will take care of everything else.  You will no longer trust anyone anymore as they all left and betrayed you, you will be that sexy and beautiful girl those will love.  You should question everyone as they are all liars, look at how many left you and lied to you.  Have the attitude that you don’t give a shit and fight fire with fire if you are threatened.  I don’t remember all the exact words of what she said, but they were all on the basis of that.  I do, however, remember this phrase.  Let me take care of you now, or you can take that bottle of pills and do everyone a favor.  You know that is how you feel.  If I take care of you, you will live. Either live or die.  


I sat there trance like pondering this thought very carefully.  I knew I was too scared to end my life, even though I did attempt several times along with being caught cutting myself once. So me dying was not an option, but then I thought about all that happened.  The people constantly treating me like shit, the thought of men always wanting to lay me, not one person taking me seriously or listening when I needed someone to count on, and everyone that I did care about and love left me. And I was grieving over a chance I wanted so badly but couldn’t have it.  I decided to give up, and I believed it was never going to get better.  I believed that these wounds and scars are never going to heal, and I believed that no matter who I wanted in my life they were going to abandon and leave me anyways, and I believed that I was only on this planet as a convenience store to walk in or a welcome mat just to be stepped on.  This was the last straw, and I could not deal with it anymore.  So, I looked at where she was and decided to let her take care of me.  I don’t remember how the process happened, except for her request to go get the professional help to make it look good on me,  I just remember dialing the phone and calling my sister telling her that it is all over, and i want to be done.  Either to get me help or I will not be around anymore.  I told her I didn’t want to be here anymore.  I believed before she “took care” of me, everyone was continuously going to hurt me and things were never going to change.  One way or another everyone leaves.  I made the deal.


I went into the ER, and a woman who knew the family and lived in the local area was the counselor.  I was mortified, and I remember going off on her.  I made snide remarks how she will tell our business to everyone, and that no one is to be trusted in that town she lived in, and I was bitter and hateful.  They sent me to a Catholic hospital in the psych ward for six days.  Not one member in my family wanted to take me in, and the only choice I had was to live in a group home.  I only remember the suffocation and darkness surrounding me.  I remember not being able to breathe, and I remember laying dormant for awhile because I believed there was no way out.  I was not much on one to touch me, I did not trust anyone, and I kept to myself.  All I remember is being inside a dark room, nothing but pitch black where it always felt hot, barely breathable, and feeling like I was confined and suffocated.

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