The Spiritual Violation of Surviving Demonic Attacks During Sexual Trauma
This is about surviving demonic attacks during sexual trauma — and how the physical, emotional, and spiritual abuse in my life were never separate. They were layered. Twisted together like a noose meant to strangle the light out of me.
There are some things I’ve never told anyone. Not because I’m ashamed of what happened, but because I knew damn well most people wouldn’t believe me. But this post? I’m saying it anyway. Because someone out there needs to hear it.
Let me be real blunt here:
There were things in the room with us.
Not people. Not flesh and blood.
Things.
What It Felt Like Surviving Demonic Attacks During Sexual Trauma
I felt them.
Sometimes I saw them, flickers in the corner of my eye.
Sometimes I smelled them, that sulfur, that rot.
Sometimes I could feel them enter the space before a single hand was laid on me.
Surviving demonic attacks during sexual trauma meant knowing I wasn’t just being violated by human hands. I was being hunted by something darker. Something feeding off the act. Something attached to the act.
This ain’t metaphor.
This was real.
And I lived it over and over and over again.
What They Took and What I’m Still Reclaiming
There were nights where the air in the room would change. It would go still, heavy. My skin would crawl before anything even happened. It wasn’t just fear, it was presence. It was infestation. And when the trauma happened, those things fed like vultures.
And if you’ve lived through this, you already know.
You don’t need proof.
You just need someone else to finally say it out loud.
Surviving demonic attacks during sexual trauma destroys your sense of reality. It leaves you wide open. It makes you question whether you’re crazy, possessed, damned, or broken beyond repair.
And for a long time, I thought I was all of that.
I thought maybe they got inside me.
Maybe I was marked.
Maybe I was one of them now.
You Are Not the Darkness
Because the abuse didn’t just destroy my body. It tore into my soul.
And those entities? They don’t just visit.
They embed.
They want territory and pain is their access point.
Years later, when I started trying to heal… I realized something terrifying:
The physical abuse stopped.
The attacks stopped.
The dreams stopped.
But I didn’t feel free.
I felt invaded.
Like they were done hunting because they already lived inside me.
Surviving demonic attacks during sexual trauma means spending the rest of your life trying to get your soul back.
Trying to expel what was never yours.
Trying to reclaim your light from the places it was shattered.
And if that’s where you are now, trying to figure out what’s you and what’s them? I want you to know:
You are not dirty.
You are not damned.
You are not beyond saving.
You are not the darkness, you just carried it.
And the fact that you’re still here? Still reading this? Still trying to heal?
That means they didn’t win.
Your soul is still yours.
And this fight ain’t over yet.
