Day 11 of My 40 Day Fast: Something Dark Possesses My Brother - Part 3

The first five to seven days of fasting when the body is weak can be rough, and I’m well over that hump. That’s not to say there aren’t rough days during extended or long fasts. Mornings are slow-going and then my energy levels out throughout the day.

I didn’t drink the usual two litres of water when I woke up today. I drank less than a litre, and I feel like that’s some sort of accomplishment.

A couple nights ago I was very nauseous to the point I tried to vomit knowing nothing would come out. In yesterday’s post I wrote about why that happened because I received a message through the dream realm. However last night I realized the real reason behind the nausea.

On day one of my fast I wrote about how I am afflicted with black magic. I have been going through it for most of life. The first time I was hit with black magic I was three or four years old. In that post I wrote about a weird experience with a bird. I know now that was a message. What I didn’t write was that either before or after that incident I woke up in the middle of the night with severe stomach pains. I cried and it woke up my mom. This happened for a few nights, and never after I ate something or during the day. It was only in the middle of the night. My dad took me to the emergency room and they gave me a bright red medicine to drink, which I threw up later in the hospital. That was the last night I had those stomach pains, and we never figured out what caused it.

I was brought back to that memory for a reason. Nausea and vomiting are a symptom of black magic. I have never been nauseated in my past fasts, because they were all done in private. This is the first fast I’m being public with. My ex is attacking me spiritually to stop this fast, and that’s why I was so nauseous the other night. This fast is to end all the curses put on me, and that includes over 20 years of curses from my ex.

You can read more about that in the story below.

This story is a continuation. Click on the stories below to catch up!

My family was in separation for ten years because of my brother. My dad was determined to get us all back together. He worked and saved money for years and bought a house that was big enough to give us all the space we needed, unlike like the rentals we were crammed into before. I’m from a family of five.

Life ran smoothly at first. I know now my brother knows when to hide his paranoia. He had my dad buy him a video recorder and a tripod that he set up in his room pointed at the door. He thought people were secretly going into his room. My dad also had to purchase a padlock and key so my brother could keep his door locked from the outside anytime he left his room, which is only ever to go to the washroom or kitchen. He still does this today.

Life in that house was short-lived because we ended up losing it. That’s another story. However we managed to find a much smaller house that could accommodate us. As tough as life as been, I look back and see God was always with us.

My brother’s decent into madness seems to have no bottom. As the years go on he sinks further away from reality. He’s been in and out of the mental hospital too many times to count. The last time he was taken was because he had convinced his new doctor to lower his medication dosage, which brought the full extent of his paranoia out. His medication had changed awhile back from voluntary to mandatory because the voice in his head was telling him to kill people.

He boiled water for over an hour before he’d drink it. He’d warm up his food in the microwave for 10 minutes or on the stove for much longer. The food would be burnt and dried out and he’d pick at the edible parts. We’ve become accustomed to the amount of food he wastes, and all of his other eccentricities - to put it mildly.

He thinks people are trying to poison him. Sometimes he’ll refuse to eat an entire pot of food that was made for him. He’ll eating from certain restaurants. There was a phase when he had my dad drive him 45 minutes north to a tap that irrigated spring water.

The space my brother occupies the most is always an inconceivable mess. You can’t see the floor in his room because it’s covered in garbage. His computer table is covered in spilled food and filth. He keeps a large basin in his room to pee in so that he doesn't have to leave his room, and he won’t empty it until there’s no more room. My parents have to go into his room every so often to clean it out, but it’s usually my dad. He’s also had to clean the disasters my brother turned the apartments he was living in into when he’d move out.

The kitchen is always a disaster after he’s swept through it. There’s dirty dishes strewn about, and food all over the table and counters. He eats like the beast from Beauty and the Beast. He tracks whatever is on his bedroom floor onto the kitchen floor. His story is suited for a book because it’s so long and intricate.

Our mental and emotional state comes through in the space we occupy. His mental and emotional state is chaotic, and so is his room. The music and content he consumes is chaotic and low-vibe.

At some point on during his mental health decline a voice in his head began speaking to him. Some schizophrenics make friends with the voice or voices in their head, but whatever is talking to my brother torments him. It makes fun of him, hurls insults at him, threatens him, swears at him, etc. I know this because my brother screams it right back. There’s a string of curse words and insults filtering out of his room. He tells the voice to leave him alone, but to no avail. I have suspicions it tells him to do bad things.

He doesn’t believe the voice is in his head because to him it’s coming from somewhere else, like under the floorboards, but usually from an electric appliance. He thinks they are talking to him. He’s thrown out perfectly good air conditioners, state of the art speakers, computers, etc., because he thinks they're talking to him. My dad will have to replace them and still the voice always comes through. At least my dad can return those. This has happened countless times.

He’s still angry all the time, and there are fights and arguments in the house daily because of him.

My dad has been unable to keep money in his wallet because my brother spends it to satisfy every passing whim. He’s never had a job, so he has no concept about the value of money. When he receives his government disability checks he spends it in a matter of days and then he’s back to spending my dad’s money.

My dad’s attempts at putting his foot down and putting boundaries in place with my brother remain futile. At the end of the day my dad feels sorry for his son. He feels like my brother got robbed of his life. The thought that his son will never fall in love, or have children, or experience the joys that life has to offer weighs heavily on him. Instead my brother is a prisoner in his room. So whatever joys my brother is able to seek out my dad gives it to him. Though he does worry about my brother’s health and has tried to make my brother understand, but my brother doesn’t understand anything that requires him to change. I think that’s like a lot of us just amplified.

The further I go down my spiritual journey the more I see the commonalities between my brother and lower entities, which is why I believe someone did black magic on him. He looks and acts like a demon is living vicariously through him enjoying all the worldly pleasures. He smokes an average of 10 grams of weed a day. He eats like a glutton. At least once a day he’ll want fast food, or pizza, or anything outside of the house. He drinks a bag of coffee a day. The amount of meat he eats in a day could feed a small family, and my dad, who is vegetarian, has to cook it for him. He goes through phases when he drinks and the house fills with either his music at full volume or him screaming at the voice in his head. He’s always screaming at the voice in his head. Truthfully, as much as we’ve complained that we don't get any peace it’s my brother who never gets peace.

I’m just keeping faith that God is sending the miracle we’ve all been praying for.