Freed from Satanism, Occult Bondage and Drugs - Candace Caldwell

I came from a long line of Pentecostals and Southern Baptists, but was raised in a home that more resembled hell than anything christian.  My mom was a pentecostal, although she wouldn't step foot in a church. She said she had once been "saved," but had lost it. She never elaborated on how. Actually she  was a paranoid schizophrenic, in and out of mental hospitals...my father, the Southern Baptist, was a nice, but passive man. Not only did they fight over religion, they fought about anything and everything.  I saw knife fights, broken bones, chairs and TVs thrown through walls, was the victim of incest and child abuse to the point of torture, and didn't know that there were families who didn't behave this way. I remember going to school with belt marks across my face, from where my mother had been in a drunken rage the night before...I would tell school officials that my brother had done it, because I believed that if I ever told anyone about what really went on, mom would probably kill me right in front of the cops who came to take me away. 

I would escape from everything by going to church with my father, but all I saw was a bunch of giggling girls, making fun of somebody's dresses.  There was never a single shred of proof that God was alive.  As a child, I wanted to be an evangelist...by the time I was 13, I had decided that God was a myth, and quit church.  He certainly never seemed to anwser any of my prayers, so I decided that he was of no use to me at all.

When I was 15, I slipped going down a flight of stairs at school, and broke two vertebrae in my back and severely herniated a disk.  When I could go back to school, I was stuck in the library instead of going to PE... and there I discovered an Encyclopedia of Demonology and Witchcraft.  I started learning how to cast natal horoscopes, and then went into palmistry.  A strong level of psychic ability ran in my mother's family, and I soon discovered I also had the family "gift."  I became associated with a couple of different witch covens, non-sectarian druidic, and I was entranced with their religon.  They had such a strong comittment to the earth and nature, and didn't go around hiding the fact that they too had strongly developed psychic powers.

After awhile, I got tired of them.  They didn't believe in satan or demons, and never knowingly called on these powers, but I knew enough from my christian upbringing to know that they were getting power from somewhere... and it sure wasn't God.  That only left the devil, whether they believed in him or not.  I began to see their religion as the "cosmic gospel...." that we don't need a savior, because everything is already in us to save ourselves. I wasn't buying it anymore...I wanted something stronger.

I then flirted around with satanism, and found out that they didn't hack it, either.  Most satanists didn't really believe in the devil at all...they just considered him a symbol for evil, and that didn't make sense to me.  You can't say that you don't believe in a real God, but only in a symbol...and then claim you are a christian.  If you don't believe in satan, you aren't really a satanist.  So I dumped satanism too, and began compiling my own magickal systems.

All this time, I was being forced to go to first a fundamentalist Baptist school and then a fundamentalist college.  Their legalism did nothing but make me run the other way even faster.  I met a boy at the christian college, we got married and had three girls, and I graduated to become a high school English teacher.  I was a respected wife, mother, and professional, but I was getting further and further involved in the real dark side of demon worship.

I had by now begun to learn from great occultists like Bennett and Waite, Regardie, Fortune, and Crowley.  I started working with thelemic magick, which is the science of demonolatry.  I found out the listings of demons, their ranks in hell, the times and days to evoke them, the incantations to use, and the offerings needed.  I had gotten to the point that the mention of God's name would send me into a foaming at the mouth fit, because I hated him so bad.  I not only evoked the demons, I invoked them.  (To evoke is to command to appear in front of you:  to invoke is to command to come into you.)  I was really succesful at getting them to come in, too.

I had discovered that my husband came from a long line of alcoholics, and had just been waiting to get away from mommy and daddy so he could cut loose too.  My life began to take on the characteristics of every alcoholic family, and I began to descend into what was simply another kind of hell.

I had been teaching for about nine years, still learning as much as possible about occultism, when I wandered into a "healing meeting" with Charles and Frances Hunter.  I had a newsletter that I helped put out, and went to reveal them and their ministry as huge fakes and write an article on it.  I went in and sat down, and I saw people seeming to get healed right in front of me.  I remember one guy that came in the back door with a visibly curved left leg, and then I saw him running back and forth across the stage with his leg straight...but I considered it mass hypnosis.  Finally the meeting was over, and I went out and sat in the hotel lobby to write the article for the newsletter...but I didn't know what to write.  Finally a pastor came over and started asking all kinds of questions...I told him I hated his God, and his God hated me, and just to leave it at that.   I must have winced when I stood up, because he asked if I needed prayer for healing....and to get him to shut up, I decided to let him pray for my back.  He did, and I bent over and there wasn't any pain.  (That was 18 years ago, and the pain hasn't come back.)

I decided to start going to his small, charismatic church, but I discovered I couldn't stand it either.  Same old judgmental christians, like nothing had ever changed.  This began a double life of occultism and christianity.  I had gotten to the point where I was actually having blackouts, and would come to hours later, trailing somebody down the beach with a loaded .380 in my pocket, hunting them.  I now had demonic power so strong that I didn't even have to work a ritual to get them to manifest:  I could simply send them out to do whatever I wanted.  It finally got to the point that if I even got mad at somebody, a demon would go after them without me even telling it to do so.  Five people ended up dying that way... and it started to scare me, because I couldn't control them anymore.

About this time, the State sent me a notice telling me my Baptist college had not finished their accreditation procedures, and my degree wasn't worth the paper it was printed on.  I ended up mostly trapped at home with three young kids, no job, and an alcoholic hisband.  I would go on an occultic binge and get so sick of it that I would go to church, and get so sick of it I would go back to the occult.  I finally did a ritual where I inscribed a chalice and did an entire black mass, telling satan that I renounced Jesus forever and would dedicate myself to destroying anyone and everyone who was a follower of His.

About that time, I used cocaine for the first time.  Within a month, I was dealing, and did an excellant job of it.  After two years, I had a $500 a day coke, crack, and heroin habit...I carried a gun, had lost 60 pounds, and my hands shook so bad I couldn't hold a glass of water without slopping it out all over myself.  I would do coke and heroin all day, every day, until I fell asleep three or four days later...and the first thing that I did when I woke up was more coke, mixing in hashish, reefer, angel dust, hash oil, and two or three hits of acid at a time.   Curiously, I never did any of this in front of my kids...I took care of them and  would have gleefully shot anybody that so much as touched a hair on their heads.  I still worshipped the ground my husband walked on, no matter how bad he got.

 Finally my business partner got popped buying two kilos from undercover DEA agents, and I decided to close up the drug store.   I tried going back to church again, for the fiftieth time, and discovered I now was going to have to come off of a huge physical and mental addiction to drugs.  I began to go back to church regularly, hating it the whole time, and started working with "emotional healing," which basically deals with the original emotional injuries that are  allowing demons to go in and out of a person like they have a revolving door.  I decided to try and clean my life up.

Hubby didn't want anythin

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