You have probably heard William Shakespeare’s famous line “Sweet are the uses of adversity.” Eight years ago I would’ve scoffed at such a notion. But so much can happen in eight years.
On November 1, 2007, I moved into my townhouse. One year and three months later, in February of 2009, my home became the target of malicious activity of a spiritual nature that many people refer to as paranormal phenomena. Others see it slightly differently, calling it demonic harassment, and relating it to the forces from the dark side that are the fallen angels—the Devil and his legions of followers, who have been plaguing humanity for centuries.
Ever since the bizarre activity began, I have experienced numerous inexplicable events in my house that extend to my car, pets, and me. I’ve kept a journal of these events:
Windows and doors have slammed on their own, and I am pushed to the ground by an invisible force. Broken pieces of glass appear in my cupboard. Objects fall from shelves. I become physically ill. My dog is afraid to enter the house, and my cats are spooked by something I cannot see or hear. Foul odors permeate certain rooms, only to dissipate minutes later. A mysterious footprint appears on the floor mat in my car. Screeching noises come from the basement, and I hear eerie sounds of shoveling and chains dragging. Lights turn on and off by themselves, and appliances malfunction at random. Stains appear and then disappear on walls and furniture. Objects fly out of my hands. Scratches appear on my skin. I invoke the aid of several Catholic priests, which leads to a visit from an exorcist.
The dark forces that have been occupying my house have wreaked havoc in my life. Moving has not been an option, and the only thing left for me to do in order to make sense of the madness is to tell my story, exactly how it happened. When I moved into my townhouse in the fall of 2007 I had no idea what the next seven years would bring. Back then things seemed so normal. I wasn’t without my fair share of stress and anxiety, but most of the time my days hummed along uneventfully. And when I had the opportunity to buy my first house, I viewed the move as a new chapter in my life and a glimpse into a future with exciting possibilities. And then, one year and three months later, it was as if I went from living alone to sharing my space with an invisible roommate. But this roommate has refused to vacate, despite my countless demands. It has attached itself to me like a shadow, clinging to its source, unable to let go of the one thing of which it is defined.
Angels Falling is more than a blog about the paranormal and demon infestation—it is a story of falling from grace, then rising again. It’s a story of battling the dark forces and turning tragedy to triumph. But mostly, it’s a journey of discovery—about finding the hidden jewel that is embedded within every soul, and shining a light amidst the darkness, even when there seems to be no hope in sight. Shakespeare could teach us all a lesson or two when he reminds us that misfortune can be a blessing in disguise. There really is so much to be grateful for. And if it took years of pain, turbulence, and tragedy to open my eyes to what matters most in this life, well, then I suppose it will all have been worth it in the end.
Welcome to my home.
Sweet are the uses of adversity,
Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,
Wears yet a precious jewel in his head;
And this our life, exempt from public haunt,
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in every thing.
As You Like It, Act 2, Scene 1, 12–17