Spirit Possession Anyone?

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Well, for heaven's sake - everything is spirit. Every thing. Thee's nothing that isn't. It just takes different forms, is all. Spirit never dies, it transforms. It is all vibrations. Higher and lower. There are varrying degrees - from the lowest - death to the highest - spiritual and beyond into infinite matter. When a person dies part of their soul gets left behind for a period of time - if they are *stuck* between worlds/planes - then there is a problem. There is something called walk-ins where a trapped spirit takes up residence in a living entity and possesses that body - since it lacks its own. In that, it lowers the vibration of the spiritual energy that was once part of the entity - and illness and pathology sets in - until corrected - and the spirit is released and sent on its journey. Spirits are all around us - at all times. If our energies are high - nothing can stick to us. Not even a demon.

I know this isn't exactly the greatest way to go about my first post here, though i don't tend to go about much of anything in the greatest way so why not? Anyway, I don't have an official diagnosis of AS, the main reason for which seems to be the difficulty I have communicating with psychologists/psychiatrists etc....go figure. ATM i'm major depression/adhd/social anxiety regardless of the fact that sans the geeky virgin stereotype I might as well have Awkward Bizarro Space Cadet Aspie tattooed across my forehead.

Anyway, I do happen to have a rediculously odd story regarding the concept of spirit possession whether you choose to believe it or not. About a year ago I asked the psychiatrist I was seeing if he could refer a therapist for me as we had never developed much of a 'talkative' relationship between the two of us, and so he suggested a social worker with a therapy practice in his office. My first two months or so of sessions with her were about as dysfunctional and confounding as I've come to expect of any attempt at therapy, but were otherwise fairly insignificant as far as anything indicative of the bizarre turn it was about to take. (this will probably be rather long BTW, sorry) {note that during none of my time spent with this therapist was i hypnotized or put in any other induced state or even lying down for that matter. In fact she wasn't even all new agey like you'd probably imagine, just a big fat therapist with a puzzling absence of empathy or compassion.}

After a while I began to notice that her questions were subtly starting to veer away from anything much pertaining to me or my situation as far as I could tell and when I would ask her what she meant by a perticular question she would get all gaurded and vague about it. Over the course of the next few sessions it became obvious, and eventually confirmed, that these mysterious questions were being posed not to me at all (in the normal sense anyway) but to a teenage girl.....(I was by all appearances very much a 24 yearold male)

"So.....you think I'm a.....teenage girl???"
"Mmmmmmm....nnno"

As long as things were being incredibly strange I figured I'd have some fun with it

"Okay...you've got me.....I'm actually a teeny bopper for the CIA" Etc.
".....now I know your not THAT" Etc.

(yeah i know this is getting a bit much..but I really am telling the absolute honest truth about an unbelievable experience i had. Not that i expect to find many believers here as I myself at the time i'm referring to was a piously devout atheist right up until the evidence literally roared in my face) {not to say I now believe in the concept of god(s), I'm just leaving things a little more open to interpretation}

.....Get On With iT!

Okay, so as our further sessions unfolded, we were mind you talking about actual 'real' therapy stuff as well, more and more little bits of information were dropped here and there....teenage girl....she has red hair(i dont).....we share the same intense appreciation for bright shades of green.....smoke the same brand of cigarettes......shes being talked about in the past tense......we're talking about a ghost......(WHY ARE WE TALKING ABOUT A GHOST GIRL IN THERAPY??).......we grew up in the same house....she lived in the 70's......(About all I'd heard of the concept of spirit possession was the whole excorcism thing).......she committed suicide at 17.....her headstone glows green at night...

Sounds very strange but that was the first thing I'd heard of all this that I knew to be true as it was a fact that there was a headstone in a local cemetery known as the 'glowing grave' as it was made of a type of granite that does in fact give off a green glow at night.

As we were well into the weirdness by now I open mindedly listened to the therapists explanation of the concept of spirit possession and gave it all a good toss around the logic barrel safely within the confines of the hypothetical....okay sure, we die....live on as some sort of energy....spirits and ghosts ARE a pretty universal belief spanning the spectrum of human societies.....yeah the bright white light (end of the tunnel thing) is fairly widely believed in as well as reported throughout history as the 'near death experience'......ghost girl was raised as a catholic.....theoretically feared going to hell and so turned away from the light....ok....and so we have a ghost....hypothetically.

So...red haired, green loving, Marlboro smoking ghost girl grows up in my house and puts a gun to her head at 17 years old in 1973. Bizarre yet oddly kind of romantic in a way but still incredibly creepy. Though that house always was kind of creepy. Even more creepy still, and just as twisted as this whole thing was turning out to be, it just so happens that both my two ex-girlfriends (and before ya go tossing me out of the aspie club, Yeah I managed 2 serious relationships as a teen...but it's been five years so can it.) had claimed to have felt "really strange" for a few years after breaking up. My first went so far as to describe a pale green light leaving her body one night and floating out an open window, which was apparently also witnessed by her boyfriend. I didn't lend that story so much credit at the time as she had spent two years messing with my mind, but i have to admit it makes a lot more sense now.

Yet I still didn't know the girl's name....at least with a name i could maybe do some fact checking at the library. After quite a bit of hesitation from the therapist I learned that our ghost girl shared, not by accident, the same name as the mental health/neurodevelopment clinic I was sitting in.

"So my psychiatrist named his practice after a ghost girl?"
"Well...no.....it was more...in memory of her"
"Why did she kill herself?"

I'm told a truly heart wrenching story of abuse during which factoid#2 turns up when I'm asked for reasons I'd rather not elaborate on whether or not we ever found any novacaine anywhere in our old house. We did not, but this was when I began to realize that whether there was a ghost or not this wasn't all BS because when I was about eight or nine we got a postcard in the mail written in fine cursive on the back of which was a brief explanation that the sender had grown up in our house along with her older sister and for some reason was asking us to take a look under the third attic step as this was where their GRANDFATHER kept his novacaine. We never did find anything but the third step did come right out, the only one to do so, and revealed a small empty space beneath. Okay, so alot of strange things were beginning to make sense here, but hate me for I've gotten ahead of myself. Firstly, I put grandfather in caps because this piece of information was in significant contrast to the story I'd been hearing from my incredibly strange therapist as their story has the alcoholic freeloader father as the abuser and the goodly grandfather as the wrongly accused. Surprised at this difference in the details she yet expressed a hesitant certainty that it was the father at blame, as that was apparently what was recorded in the notes of the girl's psychiatrist which were left upon his death to the doctor i was then seeing.

Secondly, I neglected to mention that when I first learned of the girl's name it immediately brought back a memory of a high school friend whom I'd played in a band with getting a lot too drunk one night and standing up in my face and repeating this girl's name over and over as if calling her out of me, until eventually walking off into the night in frustration. Our guitarist, not one for superstition in the least explained with some sarcasm "He's in love with a ghost"

On mentioning this to the therapist she told me they were aware that there were people visiting her grave at night and in the spring through fall it was claimed that her spirit would physically materialize sitting on her headstone wearing a green dress, holding a pack of Marlboro's and bathed in pale green light. They claimed they would spend the next hour making love in the grass with the glowing physical incarnation of her spirit.

Though I'd considered the possible reality of the human spirit as well as even some sort of alternate plane like spirit 'world' from what I'd already hypothetically put together I found it a little difficult to come up with an explanation as to how such a spirit entity could manage to rematerialize in the physical form.....but who the heck knows really? Was it more probable that I had a weirdo therapist messing with my head, I'd taken that into consideration...or could i have for some reason lost my mind and be dreaming up the whole thing, I went through that too, i spent a good deal of time questioning my own sanity.

But from what I gathered talking with my old high school friend who said he had spent two years "in love with the ghost" there was far too much making sense to this crazy phenomenon, it was too intertwined with events in my own life and the details seemed to run much too parallel with what seems to be the raw, universal foundation of human religous beliefs. Anyway, he said she told him that she liked her dad, didn't wanna talk about her grandfather. Eitherway, if conflict is indeed the source of stuck spirits, theres got to be more than few around this one.

And yes, and I did take a walk through the cemetery one night last summer, it was foggy and humid. Having only a vague clue as to the location of her grave I walked down to what I figured was it's approximate vicinity and stopped in front of a small cluster of headstones to light a cigarette. Through the glow of my lighter I caught a glance of what was unmistakably the sillouhette of a human figure dart up from among the stones, as if springing to it's feet. A little stunned, I scanned the area realizing the sillouhette had vannished, and then there was a loud rustling in the trees not far off, the time having elapsed between the apparition and the sound struck me as exactly the amount of time it would take a person to hit the trees had they taken off running from where she started. The rustling in the trees continued, moving in the direction of another small plot of headstones and I could just make out what sounded like a combination of low pitched neurotic mumbling and high pitched nervous laughter, it sounded scattered as if emanating from no one place but numerous places, far ahead and behind the rustling movement in the trees. The sound of movement ceased but the voice sounds continued, like little faint echoes among the headstones up the path to my right. I listened for a while, pulling myself back together while still processing what had just happened. I then decided, against every ounce of instinct within me, to venture up the path in the direction of the now growing fainter sounds. However I did not get far at all before what i can only attempt to describe as an inhumanly frightening deep scratchy cry/roar sounded at the far end of the path i was on. It sounded a word that I couldn't make sense of, didn't have time before it hit me. The sound of the scream...actually hit me...as if it had come speeding down the path at me, it felt like a heavy wind of sheer terror that blew right on through me. Terrified, stunned, confused, disappointed and a little hurt I turned around and walked swiftly back from whence I came with whoever else had come along.

Hooray! For I am now officially a card carrying Cyber Kook. Oh well, thats okay, it is, believe it or not a true account of a rather unussual experience I had.

Was "for heavens sake" intentional? It was really well placed if it wasn't!

Either way, you may call it spirit, I may call it motion, someone else may call it energy, someone else may call it nirvana and yet someone else may call it god, it doesn't really matter.

Ultimately what you get out of it is more important, for my own uses I choose to use words that are more universally understandable and easier for others to know what I'm talking about, but I still haven't managed to work out a concise way of explaining myself and the infinity I see.

Yet I still find it a lot more interesting to believe mind is finite, yet thought is infinite, what one may think of as possession another may understand to simply be a side of themselves or a thought too grand to understand as coming from within.

Meaning in my eyes thought and energy are different versions of the same thing, so although I may think something came from me, I really believe I'm more like a filter, each mind being a piece of a larger puzzle.

Just some thoughts.

Um...no. it's aspergers. not frikin spiritual possession.

I'm seeing negtivity, pathology and disease as manifestations of demonic activity. Yep.