I am writing the following in the unlikely event that I do not return from the task which I am preparing to perform wholly intact. If I remain absent here for an extended period of time, I may well have succeeded at my task, but might have been overzealous in it, thus having developed severe amnesia which prevents my return. Those of you who are secular skeptics will find the following a great comedy, but I know that most of you here are not: so I think this will be taken seriously here. I have described here before the horrors which my mother has inflicted upon me, and I have before mentioned that I have a lifelong struggle with PTSD. I have been open that I am on my third suicide attempt, and those of you who have read even parts of that know that this is a normal - even if unhealthy - reaction to the circumstances which I have been saddled with. I have been relatively healthy, but I am relapsing. While I have all of my energy and emotional facilities remaining to me, I must take action before I become a suicidal mess once more. Keeping my exercise and healthy diet as habits is certainly slowing the degradation down, but these things are simply no match for the deeply ingrained pain that I feel when I am made to see women who vaguely resemble my mother. You all are aware that morbidly obese women mostly look and smell the same...and all morbidly obese white women look and smell like my mother. Yes, I am outright saying that the sight of morbidly obese women is a PTSD trigger for me. Based and Redpilled. This post is only as much of a joke as my life is a joke. Years of psychotherapy, SSRIs, and self-help books have done nothing. I have particular childhood memories of having my journal read by my mother - resulting in her taking my arm and burning it on the stovetop - that make me averse to working through these issues by that method. The prayers that have been made for me by members of the exoteric church have clearly done nothing. Meditation, exercise, and proper diet have done far more for me than any of the above...but clearly, it is not nearly enough. Thus, I have turned to my priest. I should mention: I do not go to a regular church - I am Gnostic, and the church that I attend encourages the practice of the occult. Knowing the types of practices my priest personally engages in, I went to him to ask him for something that for him sounds quite simple, and to me - a relative dabbler - would be one of the greatest magical feats of all time. I went to ask him if there was any magical practice that would remove a memory from my mind. He asked me why I wished to have this. I described my mother to him. I described her in all the detail I could muster, and I described that she would force me to sleep in the same bed as her into my teenage years. I told him that I was made to watch porn on her lap as a punishment. I told him about the time I was punished with sleep deprivation. I told him all of it. There is a real difference between the pain that it takes to write something and the pain that it takes to say it. I can write the things that I have written here with no issue, but my tongue struggles. I could not look him in the face while saying things. I stared at the floor. I finished, and I looked at him. I have never seen a man so horrified. To put it in context, we believe that this Earth is hell. We take from many traditions, all of which hold that this place is not a good place and that we are being meaninglessly hurt here, in this torturous material hellscape. This is a man who has dealt with the fallout of ritualistic rape victims. This is a man who has personally witnessed rituals involving the consumption of menstrual blood, and...he's horrified by a simple description of my mother. He hugs me. He informs me that it is blatantly clear that my mother is effectively just permanently possessed by some demonic or archonic entity, and that I have suffered multiple, deep spiritual wounds that require ritualistic cleansing, which will be administered to me in the coming weeks as he goes to study exactly WHICH demons do...that. Moreover, he pointed me to the magic which I have requested. Which I will be preparing over the next few weeks, and which over the next few *months* I'll be preparing counter-measures against "oh fuck I wiped way too much memory." (The faggot tourney will still run, there is no way for me to prepare these countermeasures in mere weeks - this is a very long-term plan.) This is not a joke. I am very seriously making an attempt to eliminate my memories of my mother using magic. I have more hope in this than I would place in modern psychology. If I disappear *in August sometime* then know that this is what happened, and that I am likely much happier than I have been at any other point in my life.