So, what’s true and what’s not true, in my book Astaroth?

This post contains spoilers, so read at your own discretion.

The truth is, the memories, the abusers, that’s real. They pull from the darkest parts of my childhood. The pain I felt, the people who hurt me. My grandma truly did tell me that the family line was cursed, that I would do the same to my daughter. Before my memories returned, I didn’t want children. I loved them, but I didn’t want any of my own. I didn’t recognize why until I began to remember.

I experienced the same type of abuse from 4 others in my childhood. Some more detrimental than others, all of it formed me into who I am today. Some from my maternal line, some from my paternal. One from neither.

I do work in IT, I have plans to quit my dissatisfying job and move to Costa Rica. Like Hannah, I feel like I’m masking, slipping, and don’t fit in anymore. I’ve visited Costa Rica twice, and yes, the first time was for a yoga retreat held by a blogger whose writing I had fallen in love with. I did indeed find yoga was not for me 🙂 During both visits, I stayed in Puerto Viejo, at least for some time.

I did speak with angels when I was seven. In fact, up through college, I would visualize angels standing all around me when I was scared. They brought with them peace and feelings of protection. During one particular instance of abuse at the hands of my most brutal cousin, I saw an angel looking over me from the top of a hill. I always searched for them when I walked through that spot, the side of a ravine, in the near rainforest part of the PNW.

My angels did introduce me to a demon, who said he would protect me. He said he could only protect the members of my house, I was not the only one being attacked. There were others, outside my home, I knew were abused as well, the demon said he could not protect them. Strangely, all of my siblings, who were hurt at the time, have forgotten the instances. The siblings who came into the family after the demon helped me did not forget. The demon told me in exchange for his help, he asked that I remember and heal when I’m older. That I help others heal their own pain. I plan to follow through, and that’s part of what I give in my life coaching, writing, and Reiki.

It’s true, Astaroth did come into my life in adulthood. He helped me deeply when my memories returned. I don’t know if he is the same demon from my childhood, but I assume so.

I don’t know if any of these spiritual instances were real, I’m still quite agnostic about it all. I do like to think it’s true.

I reported all of my abusers in my early 30s, after a strong enough amount of memories had returned. None of them will face justice. Some did face time in prison, due to what they had done to others. It doesn’t feel the same as I think my own story being made part of it would. So, I’m left to decide what justice means to me, and often I think that means healing. I’m still figuring this out.

When my memories returned, I confronted my mom, who denied it. I told all five of my siblings, and each in their own ways, they told me they didn’t believe me. They do think I’m remembering the wrong person, and think that alone earns them the right to stay in my life. I spent 6 years in agony, hoping one of them would tell me they believed me. I finally asked them to cut contact with my mom if they wanted to stay in my life. I waited 6+ months for a response from them, and only one ever replied, saying she can’t do it and doesn’t understand my ask. I finally told all of my siblings that the time was up, that they can’t be in my life. It was the most powerful thing I had ever done for myself. The strongest way I had ever spoken for me. It was terrifying, relieving, and painful. Something I grieve to this day.

I mostly left my dad out of this story. As a child and adult, I nearly begged for his attention, and never received it. After I told him of my memories, he said painful things that hurt to this day. I tried over and over again to keep him in my life, but all of which failed with me suffering in silence.

I never met my Ramon, though I hope one day I will. I don’t think I’m ready, I feel as though I need to become me more, understand who I am, and what I want from a partner. I want a Ramon, that much I know.

If you’ve read the book, I hope you enjoyed it, felt the healing power of both Astaroth and Ramon, and I hope you felt less alone in your own pain.

If you have yet to read it, know that the themes, as you can tell from this post, are challenging to read. They are dark, painful, and yet relieving all at the same time.

Lastly, I want you to know that I believe you.

Until next time,

-Arden