A Dark, Dark Spell

When this client first came to me, he had been living for many years in a severe and destabilizing situation—one he understood as a dark spell. Complicating matters, the predatory person wielding power over him was still actively present in his life, engaging in ongoing psychological coercion that left him manipulated, disoriented, and persistently drained of his vitality. He believed, with clarity and conviction, that had he not reached out for help when he did, the condition he was living within would have continued to deteriorate in ways he felt were genuinely life-threatening.

This story is shared with his full permission, in the hope that it may offer recognition and reassurance to others navigating similarly complex terrain—that they are not alone, and that movement toward freedom is possible.

This was a case of unusual scope and complexity that did not fall neatly into any single category. Multiple interwoven forces were at play: experiences he understood as curses or spells; parasitic influences and sustained attacks on his psychological and energetic integrity; deeply entangled relational dynamics; entrenched psychological distortions; and unresolved childhood trauma that had profoundly undermined his ability to trust himself or recognize his own worth, leaving him susceptible to exploitation and the repeated surrender of his personal authority.

This was not the kind of healing that involved a few ceremonies or a handful of conversations. The work unfolded over the course of two years and required sustained psychological care, spiritual discernment, deep shamanic work, and a great deal of patience and compassion—held within ongoing intuitive guidance, careful listening, and forms of wisdom that revealed themselves gradually over time.

Because the truth of his circumstances was initially too overwhelming for my client to approach directly, we entered the work through a shared mythic narrative. He described himself as being trapped for years within a dark, enchanted forest, bound by thick, poisonous vines and dense thorns. We spoke of swords of light slicing through the brambles that ensnared him; of heroines and hidden gods, of sorcerers, of enslaved awakened beings, and a grotesque demon mole rat with no soul. We spoke of his life as a myth—as a twisted fairy tale—one in which each figure represented a force in the vast archetypal battle between good and evil that had taken root in his inner and outer worlds.

This was not fantasy or avoidance. It was a symbolic landscape, very much in the Jungian sense, that allowed us to engage with his lived experience without exceeding his ability to remain present or collapsing into raw trauma. The myth served as a container: a way to see clearly, to orient, and to intervene, while slowly restoring his capacity for discernment and self-authority. Over time, as the work progressed, the symbolic imagery loosened, and a more direct understanding of what had been happening psychologically, relationally, and spiritually became possible. 

At one point, I sought counsel from a trusted teacher and found myself describing how disturbingly, beautifully, poetically, unmistakably mythical my patient's story was. My teacher listened quietly and then said, "Well, all those great myths did come from somewhere."

Today, this client is no longer living within that tormented landscape. He is clear, grounded, and free from the binding forces that once dominated his life. He maintains strong boundaries, trusts his own perception, and looks back on that period with disbelief that it was ever his reality. What once felt inescapable now feels distant and resolved. His life has resumed its own forward motion—no longer governed by distortion, self-doubt, or unseen influence, but guided by discernment and a reclaimed sense of sovereignty.