My Demonic Experiences: Why You Don't Dance With The Devil

The occult is culturally normalized now, but the darkness behind it is real. I know because I lived it. This is my testimony, the demonic encounters I survived, the occult practices I fell into, and how God refused to let me go.

I grew up with a mother who twisted Christianity beyond recognition. She died when I was fourteen. I was autistic, isolated, homeschooled, and spiritually unprotected. A perfect target. I didn’t run toward darkness because I was evil, but because I was broken and searching.

When the Battle Began

One day, while walking from the kitchen to the living room, I suddenly screamed. My mother said it was blood‑curdling. She found me at the bottom of the stairs, staring upward. She didn’t see anything, but I did. A demonic female figure stood at the top of the stairs, mumbling and trying to get me to come to it.

After that, strange things began happening in that house. Once, we stepped out of the living room and heard loud banging. When we went back in, the entire room was destroyed, including the walls and pictures. Another time, I watched kitchen chairs slide out from the table on their own and move across the floor to the wall. I also remember putting things in front of my bedroom door at night to keep “them” out.

The Escalation - Preteen Years

For a while, nothing major happened that I remember. We had moved several times by then, and I don’t recall which house this was, but the activity started coming back. At first it was occasional. A black, shadowed entity would stare at me from outside the window or while standing in the corner, then from the foot of my bed, until it eventually progressed to attacking me.

Most people would call it a nightmare, but I was awake. I had just walked into my room and turned on my light light when I was thrown into the air, hit the ceiling, and landed across the bed with a heavy black figure on top of me, snarling, “Come to me, come to me,” inches from my face.

That encounter left bruises, and I was so terrified I crawled into the closet, and stayed awake crying through the night. After that, strange things began happening in the house. Objects moved, noises echoed, and cold spots appeared. It never attacked me like that again, but I still saw it watching through the window at different hours, just standing there and looking at me.

We moved a few more times and eventually to our first real home. While we were unloading, a few of us were inside when chaos erupted upstairs. My dad and a couple of the men headed up cautiously, and I slipped in behind them. Every box and piece of furniture we had put up there had been tossed, contents dumped out and broken, shattered glass everywhere, and the attic door stood wide open.

I got yelled at to get out, and I did. The men came down and told us kids and women to wait outside. One of them turned out to be a pastor, and he, my father, and two others prayed before going back in to deal with whatever was in that house. After that, things stayed quiet for a long time. The place felt peaceful again, at least in terms of anything demonic.

A Choice That Changed Everything - Teens

I had my first and only so‑called “alien” encounter, which was really a demonic one. It scared me so badly I peed myself. I was with two friends out walking, and we tore back to my house in sheer panic. My dad didn’t see it, but he saw us, and he still remembers the way we came running and the terror on our faces.

After that, things changed. I started having regular encounters. I saw demonic entities almost daily, objects moved, and voices/noises echoed through the house. The nightmares were the worst. They left bruises and scratches in places you physically cannot reach on your own.

Around that time, a boyfriend and his friend introduced me to occult practices, and that became the beginning of my occult years. I tried a Ouija board with friends and learned how to channel these things, talk to them, and get them to respond. Before long, I was holding séances in the woods next to our property.

Some Memories Never Leave You

I remember one night vividly. There were six of us in the woods doing our usual thing when something far bigger than anything I had ever encountered showed up. Even now, it amazes me that no one was hurt worse. That night reminds me how serious the situation really was and how much danger I put myself and the others in. I am responsible for that, and it humbles me.

The first thing it did was talk to us. I couldn’t understand the language, but it was speaking real words and real sentences with real inflection. I just didn’t recognize the language. It felt like it went on for a couple of minutes, but it was probably less than one.

By then, I was scared, like deep down in the pit of my colon scared. And then my dumb a$$ asked it for a sign. It chose my finger. My hand and arm were pinned down, but my third finger on my right hand was yanked straight up and bent backward, and later I found a puncture type wound by my knuckle. I still carry the scar.

Then it went after my friends before I could scream. One friend was clawed across his back. Another had her shirt sleeve nearly torn off and her arm, wrist, and hand scratched. Another was hit so hard they dropped to they collapsed. Then we heard what sounded like snarling dogs coming at us. We got my friend up and ran. When we reached the road, we thought it was over.

Chased By Darkness

Walking back to our cars, we heard these heavy foot stomps behind us. We looked back and saw a huge black figure coming toward us. We ran and got into our vehicles. What happened next still feels unreal. If it hadn’t happened to me, I would be skeptical. If you don’t think demons have power, you are wrong.

I ran to my car and jumped into the driver’s seat while two friends piled in behind me. As I tried to start it, something slammed into the back of the car hard enough to shove the rear end into the ditch. I was frantic and crying. They were yelling at me to go, but the key wouldn’t turn. When it finally did and I was about to hit the gas, I froze. We saw a thick, black, freezing cold mass moving inside the car. No one moved. I don’t think I was even breathing.

The next thing I knew, my foot was forced off the brake. I was shoved into my door and cracked my head on the window so hard I started bleeding. The gas pedal was pushed to the floor. We shot toward the other ditch. If I hadn’t turned the wheel when I did, and if the back end hadn’t been stuck for those few seconds, we would have hit a tree.

I screamed, “God, help us!” Then it was gone. Just like that. I had control of my car again. I will never forget what that felt like. The anger, the hatred, the stench, and the physical strength it had. It practically sat on my lap and tried to take over my car.

The Internal War

After that, I cooled it a bit, but trust me, I still got into things later. This was also when I started looking at the Bible on my own more instead of relying on what my mother had taught me. I still get things screwed up, though.

Even then, I remembered my first encounter with God. I always knew He was real, that Scripture was true, and that He was with me. I just didn’t understand yet. I was constantly fighting what the secular world taught me against what the Bible said, all while trying to make sense of it with an autistic, traumatized mind. It sucked.

I dropped out of high school and graduated through a homeschool program, moved in with my boyfriend, and got a waitressing job. By then, I believed in God more firmly, but I was still deeply traumatized from my past and searching for answers. One day, bored and wandering around town, I found a ceramic shop where you could buy a piece and paint it. I became friends with the people who worked there and eventually learned they practiced what they called “white” witchcraft.

And Down Again I Went

During those years, I didn’t experience the same physical severity as before, but I did experience a lot of other things again. I saw demonic entities, objects moved around, and the nightmares came back. There were a lot of nightmares. I also started having premonitions that became scarily accurate in very demonic ways.

I participated in rituals, dated both men and women, practiced blood magic, cast spells, held seances, read tarot cards, used scrying, and consumed a lot of pot and alcohol. This was also when a hard internal struggle began in me.

Something in me refused to let go of God or the Bible. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I kept trying to justify it. I kept trying to blend God and the occult together. Looking back, I recognize that struggle as conviction. What I was diving into felt like taking a rusted cheese grater to my soul. Because of this and my openly questioning things, I was challenged for refusing to turn completely away from God by coven members and ultimately attacked and assaulted for it.

Truth Broke Through

After that, I sat back and saw everything for what it truly was. My eyes were opened to the fact that God did not exist to them, but He existed in me, and I could not walk away from Him.

I slowly started pulling myself away from that group. I had just started dating my daughter’s father around the same time, and when we moved, it created the distance I needed.

I still dabbled and still did things, but inside I was miserable. Part of me wanted to hand everything back over to God, but the New Age ideas kept telling me I could create my own reality. The battle inside me was horrifying and exhausting.

When I became pregnant, everything changed. Even though I was young and unmarried, I was absolutely set on being a good mother. I knew she would shape the rest of my life, and that certainty came from God. She was my everything, and feeling my love for her helped me understand God’s love for me, despite everything I had done.

Choosing God Over Darkness

I still struggled. It took me a long time to realize I couldn’t stay friends with even the ones I considered “better” if I wanted God in my life. One day, I finally made that choice. I walked away from all of it. My daughter’s father was furious that I left the group completely, even though we were no longer together. At the same time, I was dating a girl, and I ended the relationship because I knew I was identifying with my trauma, not my biology.

I walked away from everything I had known for years, everything I thought was safe, and the people I had considered family. My ability to be a mother was attacked more than once because of that decision. I suffered severe postpartum depression and admitted myself to the hospital because I was in such bad shape mentally, and that was used against me by them.

But I chose God, and therapy instead of rituals and crystals.

From Darkness to Authority

Those years were some of the darkest years of my life. I carried so much grief, anger, and hatred over what had happened to me as a child, deepened by spiritual darkness and demonic influence. It was also the period when I had an unsuccessful suicide attempts. The pull toward darkness was relentless and twisted everything in me.

I started going back to church and had my daughter dedicated. I was still far from who I am now and still had moments where I messed with things I should not have, but over time I broke away from all of it. In the years that followed, I raised a beautiful Christian young woman.

Many people will read this and assume I made it up or exaggerated it. I did not. If someone is skeptical, that is fine. It means they are at least thinking about what I have shared. These things really do happen to people, or we would not have an entire entertainment industry built around them.

As much as God has kept an eye on me, so does Satan. The fallout from my occult past still shows up in my life, and it is clear that the enemy loves to stir the pot around me. He is furious, not just because I walked away, but because of who I have become and what I write about.

God used my occult years to train me, equip me, and give me the authority to speak on these matters plainly and bluntly, without sugarcoating or shame. I lived through these experiences and more. In a culture that romanticizes spiritual darkness, someone needs to tell the truth about what it actually costs.

If you are in darkness right now, know this. God has not given up on you. He did not give up on me, and I was far gone. The occult promises power, but only God offers freedom. I have lived both sides of that battlefield, and freedom wins every time.

And if you are a parent who thinks this could never happen to your child, you are wrong. I was going to church when I got into this. My father had no idea what I was doing under his roof. Your kids are curious enough to play around with darkness without understanding the cost. Talk to them, not to scare them, but to prepare them. Someone needs to tell them the truth.

© 2026 Jane Isley

If you want to understand more about the reality of spiritual warfare and how Scripture addresses it, you can find more work and related articles here:

Faithful Writers — Demons, Warfare, and Biblical Clarity

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