Mournday: Hexing Suicidal Thoughts + Spell

Growing up in Latin America, where everyone tells you “boys don’t cry,” expects that you lose your virginity before anyone else, and then sleep with a different girl every week, you can say being bisexual didn’t make it easy to me. When I was 13 years old, while my classmates talked about how they lost their virginity, I was trying to find a way to tell my best friend I was in love with him. 

Side Note: Working so I get that body. Image by 建鹏 邵 from Pixabay.

The following years, I dealt with depression, stress, anxiety, sleep disorders, insomnia, self-harm and suicidal thoughts. I was bullied verbally and physically since Elementary School for being the quiet boy with good grades and who would rather read than play sports. You get the picture. I was miserable.

I discovered Witchcraft in the middle of this mess. I read, practiced, consumed everything I could, sometimes creating problems where there were none before, but getting three things I didn’t have: control, power, and acceptance. It was okay to cry, to be queer, to be quiet… To be me. I felt so confident I even told some of my friends I was bi in Senior Year and then got out of the closet (only to my classmates.)

I was already an outsider with many labels, so why not add another one? It empowered me when my classmates told me I was the Satanic guy, and I may be guilty of threatening some of them once… Or twice. It wasn’t a substitute of the therapies my parents made me quit after the doctor told me that there was nothing to discuss about it if I was sure I was bisexual, and I told her I was, but it helped.

Life hasn’t been any kinder now that I’m 25 years old, though, not able to pay for therapy. I got a severe mental breakdown at the end of 2019, hurt myself and didn’t eat for a day and half. My head became clearer, I got better in a couple of days, and threw the incident to the back of my mind. Life goes on. But something had to change.

One of the first things I learned was writing down, on one side of a paper, the positive things about yourself and your life, and on the other the negative ones. Instead of helping, it always made me feel worse, but one night, feeling low again, I said I had enough. Unsurprisingly, the negative column was twice as long as the positive and took me a few minutes to write, while I struggled with the positive column. But I wasn’t done yet.

Following my intuition, I cut the paper in two and drew a pentacle on the positive list and an inverted one on the negative list with a red marker. Red is love, but also rage, which I had a lot of. Burning the negative list in my cauldron, I said “by the power in my voice and my blood, I send these energies to the Gods, so they are cleansed, transformed, triplicated thrice, so only then I get them back!” And did the same with the other, but said “by the power in my voice and my blood, I thank for these energies the Gods, so they are cleansed, triplicated thrice, and as such I’ll get them back.”

However, while looking at the smoke go away, calmer and relieved, the wind blew the ashes all over me. Really? Really? Before exploding, I drew a pentagram on my body: forehead, right hip, left shoulder, right shoulder, left hip, and forehead again, raised my arms and let go all of my anger whispering (because it’s rude to wake up anyone at midnight) “by the power in my voice and in my blood, I cleans my body, hearth, mind and soul!” It’s not a substitute, I still need therapy, but guess who’s feeling better than ages ago since then?

Kinky regards, K!

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