Reflections

I was sitting on the sofa in my flat feeling utterly hemmed in by Satan — a devil in the flat below me and a devil in the other flat in the building. The devil in my father, the devil in the housing association, the devil in the neighbourhood. The only thing that was enabling me to cope with life was getting drunk every day.

I began to experience episodes of an experience that was truly terrifying. It’s hard to describe. For several seconds at a time, an overwhelmingly dark spiritual force would thrust into my being, like a spiritual dagger attempting to kill me. It was utterly, utterly terrifying.

I could not figure out why this was happening to me. Was it the alcohol, perhaps? My neighbours? My father? In desperation I arranged a doctor’s appointment and spoke about these episodes with my GP. I am welling up thinking about him as he was so very kind to me.

I am wondering now whether these episodes were linked to being on the wrong medication for my mental health condition or whether they were the result of being hemmed in on every side by Satan. The things that I felt may have helped are love, kindness, friendship and fellowship with other Christians, but I had been rejected by almost everyone.

A Christian helpline served as a lifeline during this season of terror episodes, as well as talking about them with others. But they are experiences I don’t fully understand.

There may be some link to my suicide attempt and the trauma of being in intensive care for a few days being close to death and being operated on by surgeons — I have no memories related to what happened when they bound up my wounds.

Healing from trauma can be a long and troubled process.