I not only base that on direct feedback given me on the topic over the past 10 years, but also based on the number of suicides committed by people who had only recently discovered their fate prior to the act of killing themselves.
NOTE | My own suicide attempts are mentioned in 18 posts to this blog, to-date.
What drives people to say this (or kill themselves) is their knowledge of how demons work. Generally, they consume your entire life—swallow you whole, as it were—and then digest you slowly.
When something they do to you would kill you if untreated, they are sure too treat it, but only for the opportunity to inflict deadly harm all over again. They can and do repeat that for as long as possible, in some cases, extending the expected, natural life span of a victim, just to prolong their inevitable demise. This could entail anything from curing diseases to replacing faulty organs. The one who has power over death, i.e. Satan, decides when and if one dies, and, apparently, has nearly any conceivable means at his disposal to bring or prevent death.
NOTE | Indeed we are souls in possession of machines (i.e., bodies) that can be repaired and replaced—not so much in a way accessible to us; but, in the ether, where time flow slows to a crawl and matter becomes malleable by hand and thought.
Like nearly everything they do, torture is a form of art to demons, appraised in value by the number of times and ways a demon can bring a man to certain death, and then put him back together again for more. The best of demon torturers pride themselves on their ability to inflict the most severe and deadly (and, sometimes, creative) injuries resulting in certain death and, conversely, their ability to restore the victim to near-original condition. Beyond that, the artiste is measured by how many times they can do this, and how long they can extend the time in which they do it, both for an individual act and for all acts in totality.
So, you can see where people in-the-know might be coming from when they expect that a person with my kind of demon problems to be diminished, even before he is diminished.
NOTE | You can hear a gang-stalker (Jon Harrington) in a 2006 recording posted to The Sunnyvale Knock say to another (Paul Casey) about me (in an attempt to justify his gang’s crime spree): “James is going to get Mxyzptlk’d [by or like] every other housewhore out there.” Prior to my knowledge of demonic involvement in the summer-long melee that left me homeless, penniless and without any future prospects for recovery—and in mortal danger—I was unable to ascertain the meaning of certain idiom. Now, I know.
From a decade-long victim’s perspective, I can attest to the fact that responsibilities will go unmet in a tragedy like mine; but, that does not mean you cannot find a goal and a purpose for your life. I’m thoroughly convinced that it’s not only possible, but that it is essential and sustaining. The finding of and acting on your purpose compensates for everything you suffer, so long as you’re actively fulfilling your purpose just as often as you are caused suffering. Not only that, but it bolsters your self-image and -confidence, which may be prone to jealousy, envy, resentment or bitterness if you compare yourself to others who are not suffering or are inflicting the suffering; most people don’t find their purpose (for various reasons). Those who live per God perceive differences between themselves and those who have not yet found their way, which supersede their temporary wealth and health and safety. Finally, it is strength that is always there—again—so long as you reach for it.
The letters I write to Christian inmates are but one of two ways I fulfill the purpose of my life (which is why I post them to the blog; otherwise, not only would I look like a guy who sits around all day getting heckled and freckled by demons, but that there was nothing one could do about it—both being false).
A letter from the newest addition to the list of inmates I write, namely, Korrey Mahone, provides a perfect example of what I’m talking about and what I get from my efforts in these excerpts:
|Excerpts from a letter by Korrey Mahone, an inmate at Pelican Bay, each of which make powerful, uplifting statements to this victim of demonic activity|
The first excerpt is a mix between a statement of disparate condition, a decree of helplessness, an accounting of loss, and a veiled or implied plea for help, all-in-one. The first half of the second excerpt prescribes an unlikely remedy, i.e., that others behave in a way that doesn’t raise doubts about God or defeat hope for a better life through God; however, even though, when combined with the first statement, Korrey seems to have conceded defeat, he makes a 180° turn in the latter half and in the third except, in which he asks for a brother-in-arms to help him—something you wouldn’t ask for from someone who didn’t look up to the task—and makes a personal observation that shows why he would see that possibility in me:
In sum, this means I gave someone hope that a bad life has a way up, even in my situation—even in their situation—and that in just one letter [see PRISON LETTER | Unlike hot air, real help is tangible]. God has been busy.
NOTE | If you’re not or have never been a long-term inmate, my letter may not read as deep as all that; but, trust me on this as an in-custody veteran of over four-and-a-half years: it says much along these lines.
The life of a demoniac (or an inmate) is not a good one, but it’s not an end without possibilities. If I have any confidence, it’s only from this fact; Korrey, I believe, may not yet have this confidence, but his lamenting of its lack shows—to me—that he has been called by God to glory. After all, there’s a lot of things an inmate can ask for, and a lot of things a demoniac on the outs can reach for. If it’s this —and not any of the things everyone else is asking for and reaching for—what else could it be?
So, what does all this have to do with responsibility, you ask? First, if God imparted strength, confidence and purpose in an amount and to a degree so as to sustain me in tragedy, and in an amount and to a degree to which others feel as if I have enough to spare to sustain them, too, I’d say that I have a responsibility, and one that can be fulfilled against all odds.
Of course, time will tell; but, the fact that I and others believe it is possible is a good sign, given our mutually disparate situations (Korrey has ten more years in prison to serve; I doubt I have ten more years to live).