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My parents raised me very religiously. I never grew up with any siblings yet my mother did have another daughter. But she was born to my unmarried mother and an unmarried man. A disgrace named Martha; I never knew her as she died before I was born.  Yet I believe because of Martha’s birth, my mother’s faith might have grew even stronger. Yet that wasn’t unusual as faith was the main concentration of our household.  I remember sleeping on cold floors in winter so God could accept my sacrifice for penance for all the people who lost their faith. I even dreamed of becoming a catechist when I was older.  We always went to church twice a week and had crucifixes all over my house. From what I remember of my childhood it was spent just the way God would want it. When school started for me, most kids would look at me weird. This is how far I would take my faith sometimes. But I knew I was doing the right thing and God would punish them for not doing the same. I feel that even through what God put me through in these last few months, I feel it will all be worth it in the end.      I remember the first thing that started this whole mess yet things didn’t start to get bad until a couple years later. I was 16 and it was the year 1968 I remember having such bad convulsions time to time and I prayed God would help but it only got worse from there. I was diagnosed with temporal lobe epilepsy. Looking back I felt so helpless and was praying almost ten times a day maybe even more for God to help me.  But it only got worse from there. It was now June of 1970 and none of the medications they prescribed me were doing any good. I began to feel even more helpless and was started seeing things,unholy things, that I hoped I would never see. Whenever I would pray I would see devilish faces and they taunted me knowing there was nothing I could do to stop them. Soon enough i started seeing them even when i wasn’t praying. They began speaking to me saying that i would rot in hell. This went on for awhile and i became extremely frustrated. I eventually told my doctors but they just prescribed me with more medication that had no effect. I was losing faith in the medical industry and began turning to the church. I could not walk past a crucifix without feeling extremely sick. There was something wrong with me and i knew it. I concluded that I was demonically possessed and would do anything rid of it. I knew my parents would do anything to help me as well. As I became increasingly worse mentally, the bishop finally agreed to begin the exorcisms. In September of 1975 the first of my long and many tiring exorcisms were performed. I remember sitting in my bedroom with my parents standing by and eventually just blacking out. I awoke to find myself chained to the bed with my parents looking at me with horror. I was not Anneliese Michel anymore, I was something that desperately needed help. Over the course of 9 months I would have an exorcism session once or twice a week. I wanted to do everything I could to be normal again. I would starve myself as to rid of any bad influence and perform many genuflections to the point of my now ruptured knee ligaments. As of today it is June 29, 1976 and I had an session scheduled for tomorrow. I feel as if my days are nearing its end but i believe even it my state of despair, it will all be worth it in the end.

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