War is a time of terror and hatred for most of those involved… so when people die in war, they (as spirits) exit their dead bodies, and remain troubled in their thoughts and feelings. They don’t go to the light paradise worlds where they would otherwise awaken after a more natural, peaceful death. They remain stuck near the Earth.
Many of the confused spirits feel themselves pulled into the living bodies of people nearby—soldiers… and I believe that those spirit attachments play a big role in post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Soldiers return home from the battlefield bearing not just their luggage, but also invisible attached spirits brimming with terrible memories of war. Those memories boil over into the minds of the soldiers, causing nightmares, uncontrollable rage, and other troubles.
Not all confused spirits attach themselves to living humans, however; some are just “lost” for awhile.
I’ll address PTSD a little later on in this article, but first a letter received as an ITC contact in 1996 by my colleagues in Luxembourg, through their computer. The letter was written by the spirit of a European man named Arthur Moos, probably a German or Polish soldier, who had died in World War II. Arthur didn’t attach himself to a living person; he drifted in darkness for awhile. Here, then, are excerpts from the letter from Arthur Moos:
I still see the four of us in the carriage of the farmer who gave us a ride from Kotorz (or Kachen as it was called then). We were heading for Oppeln. The birch trees to the right of the road not far from Ehrenfeld were dressed in their first green leaves. It was April 1945 and it was a mild spring day. I see in front of me the piercing, all-consuming yellow-red flash that lifted us into the air like a fist of steel. I thought we went higher and higher and I felt like a rabbit that someone grabbed by the neck and shook up violently, only to toss down at breakneck speed to smash on the ground of this bloody, tortured and war-torn Earth.
Everything around me went deep black; only my spirit floated through a flickering dark matter. No sound could be heard and no light penetrated the darkness. I remained in this state a very long time, though I learned meanwhile that time is nonexistent here. I remember thinking that this must be life after death….
All at once, I do not know how many earth years had passed, I heard a distant wonderful music. A violet iridescent light, far off, rotated like a spiral. I moved toward the Light….
I floated into this iridescent light, and I saw before me, almost as through a somewhat distorted film, a beautiful valley with lush vegetation. Between the mountain slopes flowed a silvery river. It may sound a bit pathetic, but at that moment a flood of tears were released which I had kept back in the long, cold winter months far from home…. I cried like a child for the joy of seeing such beauty once more.
(click here for the journal containing the complete Arthur Moos story; it’s on page 4)
Arthur gives us a rare glimpse of war’s dire consequences from the point of view of his spirit after it has left his physical body. Now let’s share two moving stories of how war affects us living, breathing humans… before considering the spiritual influences in PTSD:
First… excerpts from the story of soldier Brandon Garrison (click here for Brandon’s complete story, written by Tracy Burton):
“I remember waking up in the middle of the night. I’d sit straight up in bed and it was just hard to breathe and I was panicking and I remember my wife Lily asking me if I was OK and I remember crying in her arms several times because of horrific visions that I had, and the memories and the mass casualties that we suffered….”
Garrison was OK when he was working. But the second he was alone, the flashbacks returned. It was terrifying and always zoomed back to one event. On this day in Afghanistan, Garrison was watching soldiers patrol a valley below him. It was almost time for them to return when the enemy launched rocket-propelled grenades and gunfire into their path. Garrison and other soldiers helped the injured until medics arrived. Blood was everywhere. Garrison went to his friend, 24-year-old Spc. Christopher Wilson, and held a pressure dressing tightly against his stomach, but his young life was slipping away. Wilson, whose greatest fear in this war was not coming home to his little girl, died a short while later.
“He was a very good soldier … a good friend,” Garrison said. “He was very brave through it all…..”
The next day he found a doctor off base who prescribed Valium, which helped desensitize his reality. He heard a couple guys who committed suicide from their unit, overdosed on Valium. He was afraid to take it, but he was desperate. It was football season. Garrison thought it would be good to get out, so he started going to the local bar to watch the games. For weeks he did this. He was now mixing prescription drugs and alcohol. It seemed to help. But on September 29 it all caught up. That morning, he woke with the horrors of Afghanistan. He swallowed four Valium. Later on he went to the bar. He took two more Valium and started drinking beer. As he watched the game, he started getting excited. His adrenaline was pumping. Then he saw blood. Dirty air seeped in his senses and screams of horror quickly replaced the cheers. It felt like iron weight settled in his chest. It was hard to breathe. His hands and feet throbbed. His heart was beating faster and faster and faster, like a hamster spinning a wheel. He woke up several hours later with a man from the hospital’s intensive mental health unit next to him. He asked Garrison if he was suicidal.
“I broke down and cried right there,” Garrison said. “I told him I didn’t want to live anymore…. I have a wife and a child on the way,” Garrison said through sobs. “I love them very much. I don’t want to be like this anymore, but I don’t want to live when I have these attacks, when I blank out, when I have these flashbacks….”
Second… excerpts from “The Price of Valor,” an excellent article by Dan Baum about soldier Carl Cranston, published in The New Yorker:
(Home from Iraq and sitting in a Red Lobster restaurant with reporter Dan Baum, Carl and his wife Debbie recall a recent incident at a local tavern.)
Carl had a few drinks, Debbie said, and started railing at the disk jockey, shouting, “I want to hear music about people blowing people’s brains out, cutting people’s throats!” Debbie continued, “I said, ‘Carl. Shut up.’ He said, ‘No, I want to hear music about shit I’ve seen!’ ” Carl listened to Debbie’s story with a loving smile, as though she were telling about him losing his car keys. “I don’t remember that,” he said, laughing. Debbie said, “That was the first time I heard him say stuff about seeing people’s brains blown out. Other times, he just has flashbacks—like, he sits still and stares.” Carl laughed again. “Really, though, I’m fine,” he said. Beside him in the booth, Debbie shook her head without taking her eyes from mine and exaggeratedly mouthed, “Not fine. Not fine….”
These are just two of countless stories by soldiers returning from battle with troubled moods that destroy their marriages, alienate their friends, and sometimes end their lives… all part of the terrible, real-life dramas of victims of PTSD.
Studies have found the worst cases of PTSD are usually associated with soldiers who have killed people. (Click here and here for a couple of those reports.) Most of those reports suggest or assume that it’s a mental or moral problem—that our built-in and socially taught aversion to killing other people causes the inner moral conflict that boils over into PTSD.
I would argue that it’s mostly a spiritual problem. As thousands of people die in war, thousands of tormented spirits leave their bodies. Some of them attach to the living bodies of people nearby… the bodies of living soldiers. The torment of the spirits works its way into the minds of the soldiers.
To eliminate the life-ravaging symptoms of PTSD, a soldier would have to understand his spiritual nature and, of course, the spiritual nature of the people he kills. Here it is in a nutshell: When a soldier looks the enemy in the eye and kills him, the spirit of the dead enemy is most likely in the grip of terror, confusion and possibly hatred. In such a state the spirit is not likely to ascend peacefully to paradise, but will remain stuck in this world… and will probably be “pulled” to the nearest living human with whom he is obsessed at the moment… the soldier who killed him. And he could stay attached for years… maybe for the lifetime of the soldier, filling him with hellish memories, nightmares, guilt, and self-hate. As months and years pass, the soldier may not be able to sleep for days at a time… because it’s during sleep that spiritual influences can have the greatest impact on physical human beings, shaping dreams as the spirits impinge their tortured thoughts and feelings on the human psyche.
Stated in a more easterly fashion, the karmas of the killer and the killed often become inexorably entwined, and they may not come apart until long after both have left the Earth. The two souls may deal with the situation in the afterlife or, more likely, they may meet again on Earth, in other lifetimes, to try to work it out.
Whatever the terminology, the bottom line is this: Warriors who kill often become host to the spirits of those whom they’ve killed. Also, fallen comrades who leave their dead bodies in a state of terror and confusion can likewise attach themselves to the living soldiers who have to contend with the bodies. Civilians who die in war can attach themselves to living soldiers as well.
In short, soldiers in battle become spiritual magnets to the many troubled souls dying around them.
This type of spiritual understanding will someday becomes a part of new science and healthcare fields, and there will emerge effective treatments to separate people from their invisible attachments while bringing peace not only to the soldiers but also to the newly detached spirits, so they can ascend vibrationally to the paradise worlds where they belong. Until that change in science and medicine comes about, conventional healthcare will be able to offer no complete cure for PTSD.
Meanwhile, battle-weary soldiers with PTSD may be able to fix themselves. They can learn to do inner work that can free them from their suffering, especially prayer and meditation. Praying for ethereal (angelic) support can bring relief. The Ethereals are incredibly powerful beings of pure love and wisdom. It’s important to pray in a heart-felt way, from an attitude not of desperation, but of hope and gratitude. Not so easy to do when you’re in torment, but persistence will pay off. Regular prayers will become more and more peaceful with time.
The same with meditation: It won’t come easy, but regular practice will bring peace. The biggest challenge is to clear the mind of troubled thoughts in order to enter a meditative state. The rewards will be life-changing if you stick with it and succeed. Try my heart meditation (click here) while sitting or lying in a place of relaxed quiet. Imagine what paradise looks like. If gruesome visions try to flood into your mind, convert them into happy scenes of paradise. This will become easier, the more you do it. When you’re able to move your consciousness from the head to the heart and find that place of peace (perhaps after many attempts), feel gratitude for the people you love and for your ethereal (angelic) guides. Offer sincere apologies to those you’ve harmed, especially those you’ve killed in war, and visualize them in a place of peace and happiness. If there are troubled spirits close to you, I believe this practice of heart meditation will release them to find the peace they crave… and that will give you the complete peace that you crave in your life.
If you’re able to do this, I believe you will have overcome your PTSD. If you read this and try it, please let me know of your progress!
Other articles about science and the human spirit:
The material mind skews logic to explain consciousness — Science and NDEs — More modern-day epicycles — Foreign-accent syndrome — Measuring maya — Asteroids pummeled Earth for 2 billion years — Exoplanets and the prospect we’re not alone! — Combat killing and the human spirit — Noxious capitalism and the human spirit — Aurora theater tragedy — News in perspective — Pfrankenstein’s monster: big pharma — Preventing that pesky apocalyse — Updating the Therapists’ DSM Bible
Do you have any data on the possibility of spirit attachment in the dream state? Therein, one may meet astral entities and thereby have “encounters” or dreams of lower astral beings.The higher astral beings do not have an inclination to attach themselves to Earth people; we assume.
Thank you for your work,
Jean Peterson, Denver, Colorado
That’s an interesting question.
I’ve had lots of dreams both in paradise (higher astral) settings and in dark and troubled (lower astral) settings. I wake up knowing that I was out there (in spirit) visiting those different realms, but through the day I didn’t feel as though I had any spirit attachments from those adventures… (although I guess it’s sometimes hard to know or feel it for sure).
So my gut feeling is that we don’t necessarily pick up attachments during our dreams. Maybe it depends on our general emotional state at that particular time of our lives. If we’re generally upbeat, then we don’t get attachments, whether we’re awake or asleep. But if we’re caught up in depression or chronic resentment or such troubled emotions, we can then attract into our lives troubled entities who might hang around… regardless of whether we’re awake or asleep when we pick them up.
This is just speculation, Jean. I haven’t given much thought to that or done research on it.
What are your thoughts on all that, since you’ve been involved with spirits longer than I have?
Hm, I suspect that if we resonate especially well with finer beings in higher astral realms, they too might “spend time” with us, in which case the influences would be positive (inspiring, friendly, supportive)… so we wouldn’t really call it “attachment,” which has negative connotations…
Just stream-of-thought ideas. So, what do you think?
I have studied the subject of spirit attachment extensively since picking up an attachment myself back in the 1980s after a heavy bout of drinking. I’ve learned since that drugs and alcohol compromise one’s psychic protection, and I can imagine that pharmaceuticals probably have similar effects. There is a lot of information out there and I can recommend Edith Fiore’s book The Unquiet Dead as well as the “Bible” on spirit attachment and release written by the late Dr. Willian Baldwin, Spirit Releasement Therapy, to name just two.