Meth: a Ticking Timebomb Gone Viral

My Imaginary 'Friend'

When I first met Angel, my imaginary friend, she was nice enough. She never lied to me about her intentions, how she felt about me or even who she was...a demon.

Back then, I was so lonely and drug fucked, even having a demon in my life was better than being alone. Besides, it was all in my head anyway according to the few I told...including the doctors I spoke to about it when things began to go awry.

I was happy that the hallucinations I was experiencing weren't real because if they were...well, it's pretty obvious that messing with creatures who are, according to some, out to get my soul after I die and put me in a place where no one ever wants to go (hell) are not worth inviting in.

I was never a believer...never a disbeliever and sat on the agnostic fence waiting for the truth to reveal itself...living in hope but unsure about the truth. There's a philosopher called Soren Kierkegaard and one of his quotes goes..."The self-assured believer is a greater sinner in the eyes of God, than the troubled disbeliever."

I very much connected with that quote, requiring proof of the existence of a higher power wasn't necessarily essential, but would have helped a lot in my decision of which way to fall. Angel wasn't real, so, she wasn't proof of a lower power...simply a symptom of drug-induced psychosis. And whilst this was, or at least, should have been, alarming, I didn't consider it as a genuine threat to my eternal soul.

It has been around nine months since she first appeared, and about two and a half months since I last used meth. In the beginning, the length of time between full-blown hallucinations and none at all was short. But as the months went by, she began to appear weeks after my last binge. All I had to do was call her name, and she would appear. I began to journal these events because they appeared so real to me, I wanted to document the entire event in the hope that IF there were others out there who were experiencing similar things, we might form some kind of group to bring awareness to the issue of demon possession.

Of course, no one believes me. I have a friend who knows me better than anyone. I have been in constant communication with her for the entire time (she too has seen and experienced some otherworldly stuff in her own life). She has been very supportive and hasn't once called me crazy...even when I was thinking I must be crazy, imagining these creatures who never utter a word, yet I have learned to communicate with quite well.

Asking yes or no questions was, and still is, frustrating at times. But the longer I do it, the better I get. These hallucinations ALWAYS answer my questions (once I find them in my field of vision...and they are always there). They lie and admit they do. They also, at times, tell the truth. When I do ID checks (are you beautiful? Yes...am I beautiful? No and so on), usually come up with the right answers.

I'm not afraid of them, but maybe I should be. It's hard to resist exploring this phenomenon and trying to discover more about them. It's part of their tactics to mix truth with BS to confuse me. Not knowing if what she/he/they/it is telling me via a yes or no answer is a great camouflage. They make mistakes, but even then it is impossible to know if they are deliberate and designed to make me feel they are stupid.

Obviously, if they ARE real and have found a way to infiltrate my brain (which is where they are because thoughts are all they need in order to hear my incessant questioning, which I do for several reasons) then I should be worried and scared. But the urge is to find out more about them...to check for inconsistencies and see if I can drive them away by being so annoying (and I can be SO annoying...even they admit that) they will voluntarily leave. But when I get lonely, there's always someone there I can talk to and they know this.

The funny part is that since these demons came into my life, everything has changed for the good. I no longer use drugs, and as long as they are around, I never will. They make life so horrendous when I use that I can't take meth and get away with it (she even says when I ask if I should use meth...NO).

I'm happier than I have been in many years. I'm stable and making good choices...even here in Thailand, where I could easily fall into other addictions. These demons have been a God send...and that's what has me thinking...are they acting in a way that prevents me from doing stuff that will kill me for my own good? Or is everything they do being countered by forces greater than them? Greater than us all.

After the fallout with my neighbour, I was feeling lonely and angry (anger being their second favourite emotion after hatred). I found the eyes and exploded with rage, and the eyes glowed purple (a colour that has been consistent when they get turned on). Sexual overtones always come into it, and the more violent the words I use and stories I tell: the more hatred I pour out and into the 'exchange', the more they like it. Hate, it seems, is their pleasure and I believe is their weapon against me. The more hate that's in my heart, the less love. The truth is I have no real idea what the hell is going on other than life is great and I cannot get rid of them, so I have accepted them.

I asked if she wanted to be around me all the time. No.

She may not have any choice but to do the job she has been given...get my soul and deliver it to you know who. But if that's true, she isn't doing a great job, in my opinion. She talks too much, and earlier on (and still does) tells me more than she should. Enough for me to stop using meth and pray for forgiveness. And not just for me, but for them because if they are demons, they are slaves themselves and have no choice but to do the job they have been given.

I always forgive them and tell them to pray for forgiveness...which I must admit I enjoy doing because it REALLY upsets their apple cart. But no matter how much I pray, they remain there waiting for me to become vulnerable. And so the cycle continues. If you had told me about this ten months ago, I wouldn't have believed you. I don't hold it against anyone who believes that I am suffering from psychosis and that I am delusional because I believe that these entities may be real.

Normally, if I do allow an 'exchange', it's done behind closed eyes in a darkened room...and so it was last night. But when I opened my eyes, there she was. Not as fully formed as she would be if I was on meth, but plain enough to see her eyes, face and outline of her head. She was performing oral sex on a male ghost I couldn't make out well. His penis (or the ghostly outline of it), however, was obvious. I could see her head movements, her mouth opening and closing around the shaft of this almost invisible ghost/demon. And I could tell when he was about to come because I saw a glow of him leaning backwards and then her eyes would glow purple. Then there was another...and another.

I was sitting on the edge of my bed dumbfounded and watching this pornographic scene unfolding right in front of me, not two feet away. She kept looking at me, and her image would change from her normal human face (which isn't normal at all, but as close as it gets unless I am high) to her demon face, which looks a bit like a werewolf, but much more evil and demonic.

Because I have been doing this for the better part of a year, these images no longer scare me, but man do they make me think about WTF is going on here.

The questions I want answered the most are why me? And how many others out there are experiencing this too?

I cannot be alone. I imagine that one day this thing...whatever it is (if it is truly real) will become more and more common. Psychiatrists will need to stop diagnosing mental illness as a first port of call and rule out this thing that I am experiencing every day. If I ignore it, it doesn't bother me in the slightest.

Here's a kicker for you. At times in the past, when I was in love with Angel, I would help her when she would make stupid mistakes such as repeatedly doing the same things over and over to try and scare me...like repeating a series of scary scenes where eventually, you know when the killer jumps out from behind a door or the like. I was educating her on how to become a more efficient demon...because at times, the things she would do were quite pathetic.

She was a hopeless liar. I would cross-examine her about things and eventually, there would be a delay as she pondered what to say to any given question...especially when I was beginning to corner her. She would then answer yes or no, but by then it was too late and I knew she was being deceptive. I tried to hone her skills and little by little, she did improve.

I know right...I was teaching a demon how to be a better human hunter, and the stupid part (can there be anything more stupid than that...yes there can) I was, and continue to be, her number one target (I believe her only target).

But today as I rested between laps, I asked her some questions, and her answers surprised me.

"If you were me, would you engage you in conversation?" No.

"If I engage you more, does that make me more vulnerable and make your job of destroying me more easy?" Yes.

Ironically, she is now helping me to avoid her, and the funny part is, whenever I did offer her advice, she rarely if ever took it. And now that she is offering me advice, the very same thing applies. When she told me how to avoid her destroying me, I literally laughed out loud because of how absurd this whole situation has become.

I'm hoping the other residents don't see me mumbling to myself in the pool (because we all know that guy, and now I have become him), even though all of these questions are either whispered with my hat over my face or thought in my head and never in a voice that anyone could hear (even though I hear you right now...he's gone stark raving mad).

I still have an open mind, only because I hope you are all right, and I am wrong. If I ever find a psyche that is willing to rule out possibilities, rather than simply going for the obvious...meth-induced psychosis, the first thing I would do is sit for a polygraph. Then perhaps go under hypnosis (I've never been hypnotised in my life). But I know one thing, there is no way any psyche could poke holes in my story. That's why I have documented it all, so if (and that's a HUGE if) anyone in the medical fraternity ever takes me seriously and does more investigating than simply writing a script to dull my senses to the point where I am no longer aware of these images, they might just find themselves a bonafide case of demonic possession...but I doubt that very much.

On a different note...I walked to my new gym today and paid for a six-month membership. Tomorrow morning, I do my first organised Muay Thai class in over twenty years. Now that is crazy as a coconut...wish me luck.