One day, when wandering in a thrift store, I came across a vampire story that sounded like it would be right up my alley, and it was. I bought it, took it home, and read it in a day. It was so compelling to me, I loved the story and, although it was a young adult book, I connected with it. I’ve always connected with stories, and this one was no different. This vampire story was part of a whole series, and I quickly purchased and read the others. These stories had many Pagan elements in them, and even though I was a Christian, I’d often been drawn to darker things, and thus began a journey that would ultimately take me places that I’d come to regret later.
For a while I’d been curious about tarot, because tarot is also a story, but as a friend of mine says, it’s not a redemptive story. I, however, craved the power of divination, of being able to have people seek me out because I had something to offer that they weren’t able to do for themselves. I could just smell the power. Finally I would be someone. People would love me and want to be my friend. Tarot then lead me in paths of unrighteousness as I then became interested in witchcraft and again, I craved the power. I excused it at first by claiming that I could be a Christian witch, and in fact there are a whole group of people who identify spiritually as Christopagans, and for a while I thought I could join them.
I wasn’t one of the people who wanted to be Wiccan either, I wanted to work dark magick, to make myself feel powerful, like I had control over something in my life. I wanted to hurt people that hurt me. I told myself that spells were better than prayers, because with spells, I didn’t just say words, I did something. Craving control is the besetting sin of addicts, and I am no exception. I’ve spent my whole life feeling out of control, and control was something I had to have, or so I thought.
The stories and the tarot cards weren’t my first introduction to the dark side either. When I was homeless as a teenager, I was involved in seances, because there was something exciting about communicating with spirits. The problem is that they were unholy spirits, and these seances would end up opening doors that were detrimental to me. But being young, homeless, and bored, it seemed like a good idea at the time. A lot of the things I regret in my life began with something that seemed like a good idea at the time.
All these things seemed like a dazzling, shiny object at the time, and of course, I reached for it. I would say that I bought it hook, line, and sinker, but it’s more likely that I just stole it. At one point I had quite the impressive tarot card collection, and I was relatively good at reading them. But there came a day where I traded in my tarot card collection for a collection of prayer books, icons, rosaries, and the like…