We may not always recognize in time manipulation and pressure in relationships - at first they may even look like caring or participation. But, if you do not see the alarm signals in time, things can go very far. Our heroine Ira tells how she met a young man, and in the end she was forcibly made a participant in a terrible and mysterious ceremony. All the names in this story have been changed at the request of the heroine - she says that she does not want revenge or public conflicts.
Misha and I met in a tinder: he gave me a super-like and I went to look at his profile. In the photo, he was standing at the DJ console, and then I was just interested in music. In addition, his face struck me as cute and vaguely familiar, so I decided to write to him and ask if we had met before. Word by word, we began to actively correspond: we discussed music, chatted about life. A week later, he made an appointment in the city center. While I was walking on our first date, a terrible downpour began. Water fell from the sky in streams, and suddenly in the middle of the rain I saw him - he was carrying a giant umbrella, under which we both could easily fit. Misha smiled broadly, and I saw something familiar in this smile.
I did not notice how it became a natural part of my life in just a month. It began to seem that he was always there, even if physically he was far away. We corresponded constantly, he made video calls every evening and asked how my day had gone. I found out what I was doing, with whom I saw. Probably, it was worthwhile to be on your guard even then - because of how quickly and actively it was introduced into my world. But with the advent of Misha, I suddenly found what I always lacked - round-the-clock care and comprehensive, family warmth.
I have always believed that I grew up without family support. The relationship with my mother was difficult, and I saw my father quite rarely - he sometimes left, then came again. My parents fought constantly, and everyone tried to win me over to their side. I lacked calmness and a sense of security. Misha, after a few weeks of our relationship, was aware of my entire family history. One day he said, "Now I am your family." I remember this phrase very much: from the very beginning Misha behaved like my parent, for three months he surrounded me with what I really needed. Before meeting Misha, it seemed to me that I had dealt with the past and no longer worried about family problems left in childhood. But now they have become relevant again - as if a new boyfriend pressed on my weak points.
Immediately after we met, he said that he had a wife, but their relationship did not work out. He spoke about her with anger, emotionally, told that she was cheating on him. Listening to his stories, I myself did not form a very good opinion of this woman. Misha assured: after a relationship with his ex-wife, he knows exactly what he really needs - now he is ready to "build a healthy relationship"
From the very beginning, there were many small oddities in our communication. For example, one day Misha called when he was drunk when I was out with friends. He began asking where I was and what I was doing. He reproached me for spending time "in this environment." Now I understand that this was a violation of my boundaries. But then I took it as a sign of falling in love.
I no longer knew who I really was, it seemed to me that I was going
crazy. It all felt like a bad trip. In parallel, we
did not stop reciting mantras
In the same way, I was not alerted when Misha suggested reciting mantras. He said that his friends are addicted to a variety of Tibetan Buddhism and he wants to try it too. Misha explained: after the story with his ex-wife, after all the suffering and mistakes, he wants to change his lifestyle, find spirituality. I used to be a little fond of Hinduism, I went to yoga.Neither oriental spiritual practices nor mantras scared me. I decided: why don't we start chanting mantras together? So we got into a common habit.
We read only a few pages of mantras from a thick book. Once I tried to scroll through it and found that there is a section with magical rituals. They had to be performed using the insides of dead animals. Among others, there were rituals for "subduing women." I asked Misha what it meant, and together we contacted the author of the book. He explained to us: such rituals are no longer used and do not need to be paid attention to. I accepted this explanation, although it seemed strange - if rituals are no longer in use, why even include them in a modern mantra book?
After a while, his wife became invisibly present in our relationship with Misha. She constantly wrote him messages, and he answered. While I was away, she came to his house to pick up her things and took them away one by one, then to return and pick up something else. Once I accidentally saw how a message from her was displayed on Misha's phone. They discussed me - my ex-wife asked Misha why he was meeting me. I tried to explain that it all bothers me. She asked: "Why do you keep in touch with her if she ruined your life?" But if earlier he poured mud on her, now he began to say: "She suffers, I help her" or "She is a part of my life, what do you care about that?"
In our relationship, another person appeared who caused me a feeling of discomfort - Mishin's friend Dima. He came to us, opened the wardrobes and said: “Is that what she bought such bread? Misha, what does she feed you at all? " Or he simply criticized me out loud: "Misha, she teaches you bad things." I asked my boyfriend to intercede for me, but he said: "This is Dima, he is just joking."
Once Misha and Dima went to Buddhist teachings somewhere abroad. There they had lectures, spiritual practices. Returning, Misha grew even more cold towards me. Now he had new, "secret" mantras that I could not read with him. He explained that during the teachings he received secret knowledge and now new practices were revealed to him. He began to recite mantras for several hours in a row, morning, afternoon and evening. Now I fell asleep alone every night while he practiced his spirituality. He got beads, sculptures, twigs, which he put in bed. Surely, in fact, these were sacred objects and they have special names, but I did not know them.
Our relationship gradually deteriorated. We often had misunderstandings, but when I tried to discuss them, Misha only retreated into himself. I felt less and less of the care that was at the beginning. It became clear that we are very different people, I began to guess that in addition to love, Misha has some other feelings for me, not the most pleasant ones. For example, for his birthday he presented an expensive scarf with the words: "I want you to finally look normal." And one day we got into a vinyl store, and everyone chose a few for themselves. Misha asked to listen to my records and became very sad. I asked for a long time what had happened and why his mood had soured. Finally he said: “You don't even understand music, you chose the records at random. And I like them more than those that I have chosen."
I was calm about the music he made - I supported him, but I was not a fan. It hurt him very much, he was offended that I did not dance at parties where he DJs. He also accused me of not being able to join the company of his friends, I stand aside and say nothing. Everything only got worse, but I became so emotionally attached to Misha, so I waited for him to become warm and family again that I could not decide to break up. In addition, he often said that I had no one besides him, that no one would care about me so much. Gradually, I began to believe him.
There was a feeling that there are two me.One is the one I know, a brave and strong girl. The other is modest, shy, negative, and not fashionably dressed. This other me appeared from Misha's descriptions. I no longer knew who I really was, it seemed to me that I was going crazy. It all felt like a bad trip. In parallel, we did not stop reciting mantras.
At the same time, Misha became a vegan. I found out about it by chance - in the morning, as usual, I cooked an omelet, and he went into the kitchen and sharply threw: "Actually, I don't eat eggs." Such small outbreaks now happened often - after them I was offended, I felt that I had no place in Misha's house, I could leave. He called, apologized, sent cute songs, could give something.
When I was little, I had a book about a raven and a raven. They lived on the same tree, and the raven constantly croaked at the raven and offended her. But after each such incident, he gave her a beautiful piece of jewelry. On the last page of the book there was a picture: a crow sits, all hung with decorations, and cannot take off. I felt like this crow.
Gradually, I became nervous, gloomy, began to get sick often. Misha saw what was happening to me, but we never discussed the problems in our relationship. But they started talking about the fact that with me "something is wrong." Once Misha said that he had come into my room, and I was sitting with a strange face - as if an evil spirit had infiltrated me. He increasingly hinted that something dark and mysterious was happening to me and that he wanted to save me. In part, I myself began to believe that my condition has a mystical explanation, and Misha is almost the messiah who is destined to pull me out of the abyss.
Before the new year, Dima and his wife Tonya invited us to go to India for Buddhist teachings. They took place in Bodhgaya - it is believed that it was in this settlement that Buddha attained enlightenment. Misha said: “Let's go, we’ll spend a week there, and then we’ll go on a trip to India.” I agreed.
On the eve of the trip, I had a terrible dream: I was standing on scorched, bare ground, fog was swirling around, and a man who had no legs was crawling past me. I woke up terrified and then all the way I could not get rid of the unpleasant sensation.
I've been to India before, but mostly in the tourist states. When we left for Bodhgaya, I did not know at all what to prepare for. At first, we traveled for thirty-two hours in a crowded carriage with three-tiered berths. I couldn't sleep or go to the toilet. Against the background of our problems with Misha, after a bad dream, my nerves were at the limit - I either began to sob, or, on the contrary, laugh. Early in the morning we arrived at our destination and got out on the platform. It was a dilapidated building, there was a thick fog around - it turned out that it was the fog season in India. Wild monkeys scurried back and forth. We got into a rickshaw and drove off. I wrapped my head in a blanket so as not to see what was happening around me - I did not understand what was happening at all, and I wanted to close myself from reality at least for a while.
Bodhgaya is something like a village where Buddhist teachings and practices are regularly held. There are many shrines around, pilgrims flock there all the time. When we arrived at the place and got out of the rickshaw, I realized that I was in a place from my dream. The fog was everywhere - it spread over the dry ground, and people who had no limbs were crawling along the roads. It was explained to me that in India, some people are deliberately chopped off their hands or feet in order to make them beg and earn money on it - this is a very common phenomenon.
There was nothing in our "hotel" room - just a hole in the wall instead of a window and a bed. No hot water, no internet, no mirror. A cloud of mosquitoes swarmed from the ceiling. Not that I was capricious or whimsical, but no one told me in advance where we would live. I did not take warm clothes with me, a boiler - nothing that could be useful in field conditions.Suddenly I realized that I didn’t know how to get out of this place, my mobile connection didn’t catch, and in Moscow not a single living soul knew where I was.
On the same day we went to a general meeting - the Dalai Lama spoke in front of hundreds of pilgrims. He said something about humility and how to end suffering. But I didn’t listen well: it was uncomfortable to sit on the wet grass, I was hungry, and I dreamed that it would all be over as soon as possible.
The next day, Misha, Dima and Tonya and I walked around the neighborhood. The guys went to churches, examined the shrines. In the morning there was no hot or cold water, I was left without a shower. I was in a terrible mood, I felt overwhelmed. Dima constantly told me: “Look at yourself, there is no face on you. You are always so gloomy, something is wrong with you. " After repeating this several times, he suggested: "Let's visit one ritual that helps to find health and happiness?" I didn't care where to go, so I agreed.
We came to a large tent - it smelled of incense, there were many people sitting on the floor. A Buddhist monk began to recite mantras, and then something strange began to happen: a woman behind me screamed in a voice that was not her own. Another man rolled his eyes and began to wriggle. I used to see this on exorcism broadcasts. I looked at Misha - he was sitting with a strange, blissful smile. I started to panic: people all around fell to the ground, growled, screamed. I began to frantically repeat: "Please, let's leave here, I want to leave." Dima sat down closer and, looking directly at me, began to say: "Let the girl go, give her back to us." I guessed: my boyfriend and his friend seriously think that someone lives inside me. I understood everything correctly - they really dragged me to the rite of exorcism.
After everything that had happened lately, it was already too much. I burst into tears, grabbed Misha by the hand. He and Dima talked among themselves - they say, it's not me who behaves like this, it's the spirit speaking in me. Misha also began to turn to the spirit and ask him to leave me alone. This could not continue - I ran out of the tent, sat under the nearest tree and began to cry.
I could not go home: it was dark around and I did not know the way. I had neither my phone nor my passport with me. I had no idea what to do now, and decided to just wait for Misha and Dima. After a while they appeared and announced that we were going home now. I got up, and then they grabbed me from both sides - by the arms and legs - and dragged me. I screamed, cried, called for help. They again dragged me into this ill-fated tent and carried me into the depths - where the monk was. I realized that they were waiting for my appearance - people crowded around and prepared to record me on video.
I looked at Misha - he was smiling again with an aloof smile, as if he hadn’t heard that I was crying and screaming. Either they continued to hold me, or I simply could not get up on my own - I cannot say for sure. They began to read mantras over me, I felt a light blow on the head, then water was splashed in my face. I don't know how long this happened - I was in a panic and did not stop screaming. People with telephones were still crowding around me. When it was finally over and I realized that no one was holding me, I ran out into the street. I had a real hysteria.
An unknown girl, passing by, asked what was wrong with me. I tried to explain, but she replied: “Don't worry, love is always suffering,” and offered to smell the essential oil.
On the way to the "hotel", when I could not only cry, but also utter words, I pounced on Misha and Dima: "What was that ?!" They said that they had spoken to a monk about me, and he told them that the spirit of a deceased person was sitting inside me. Like, he must be driven away. I was shocked and started screaming that they had no right to do this. Dima turned to Misha: "I told you that she doesn't love you and never loved you." I got the feeling that not only I am under the strange influence of another person, but also Misha.
An incomprehensible obsession lasted for several more months -
I thought I was sick, damn, stuffed with evil spirits
I couldn't sleep at night. It seemed to me that Misha would pounce on me, strangle me in my sleep. I was scared next to him. We tried to discuss what happened. Sometimes he suddenly seemed to begin to understand what had happened, said: "Forgive me, what have I done!" But then he began to repeat something completely different: "I'm just trying to save you!" At some point, I said: "Tomorrow I am flying to Moscow, I go to your parents and friends and tell them about everything that happened here." He replied: "Nobody will believe you." I stopped short: it seemed to me that he was right. I myself still hardly believe in what happened.
When I came to my senses a little after the ceremony, I tried to talk to Tonya - Dima's wife. It turned out that once there was an "evil spirit" inside Dima, too, and he was brought here and subjected to the same ceremony. He was indignant, but then he realized that everything was for the best, and gained spirituality. Tonya told me this story, apparently trying to console and calm me down.
In Bodhgaya, I felt like a local landmark: people looked at me, whispered. I was for them "the girl from whom the spirit was expelled." I tried to ask other pilgrims how to get out of here, but no one really answered. In the end, I insisted on my own - a day after the ceremony, Misha and I set off to travel further. I was still afraid of him, I had panic attacks, I could not sleep well next to him. At the same time, sometimes I began to believe that a spirit really lived in me. I think the story of the ceremony was so terrible and incredible that it was easier for me to believe in mysticism than to realize the whole nightmare of my situation. I even said thank you to Misha for bringing me there and dragging me into this tent.
We're back home. It was a dark time - everything seemed hopeless and confusing. I was constantly ill, and Misha said that this was not normal and that I was the sickest girl he had ever met. All the acquaintances asked: “What happened? You look depressed. " I didn't know whether to believe in this terrible spirit. Part of my consciousness I understood that I needed to get away from Misha. On the other hand, something very strong tied me to him. Once I almost left - at the moment of inspiration I packed my suitcase, got ready to go. I decided to have dinner before the road, and then Misha came and began to ask: "Don't go, I love you." I stayed, and after a couple of weeks he left me himself - at a party, in front of other people. I burst into tears, and he haughtily looked down at me and said: "We need to learn to be stronger."
For several more months an incomprehensible obsession lasted - I suffered, wrote to Misha that I "understood everything", blamed myself for parting. Thought I was sick, damned, stuffed with evil spirits. But then the darkness began to subside. I gradually began to realize what I was entangled in, and was horrified. An incomprehensible ceremony was performed over me against my will, everything in my head turned inside out.
It took me over a year to get back to my old self - bold, confident. Now I know for sure: it is worth being careful with spiritual practices. Sometimes people use religion for their own very strange purposes. You can look for spirituality, but stumble upon something dark and destructive. And I also try not to deceive myself anymore: if a person violates my boundaries, tries to fill my life with himself, this is not love and not care. This is a sure sign: we must run. I try to get something good out of any story. That night in India, I got stronger. Now I know that I will not let anyone control my life. I am glad that all this happened in my life. But I wish no one else had to learn from such a terrible experience.
Images: mchlskhrv - stock.adobe.com