Why I Used to Offer Spellwork

When people ask me why I stopped offering spellwork for hire, there is a lot to unpack.

Back when I still offered it, I had a simple rule: before I accepted any work, I scheduled a free phone call with the person. I wanted to hear the situation and decide whether I was even willing to do the spell they were asking for.

Those calls often turned into long conversations that ended with me telling the person that I would not do what they wanted.

One case stuck with me vividly. A married woman in her fifties called me because she wanted a love spell cast on a man less than half her age. At the same time, she had no intention of divorcing her husband.

My immediate thought was: Why would you want that then?

It felt wrong on several levels. I refused the work. But I also knew exactly what would happen next. She would call the next spellcaster, and the next, until she found someone who was willing to take her money and try.

That evening I remember thinking that sometimes working in this field can make you lose faith in humanity.

But those cases were not the point. Neither were the countless hours of free phone calls.

The part I actually loved about spiritual work was helping people who were genuinely troubled. Cleansings, cord cuttings, spirit release work, all those situations where someone was suffering and looking for relief.

If that meant having hour-long unpaid calls with people who were not my people, just to filter out the ones who were, that was fine with me. I was motivated. Helping people gave me the feeling that my work had purpose.

And that felt great.

My Position on Spiritual Work and Mental Health

Before I go deeper into the story, there is something important I want to clarify.

There are spiritual communities where people claim that mental illness is never mental, but that it is always spiritual. That medication is wrong. That psychiatric treatment is a crime against humanity.

I do not share that view.

In my opinion there are spiritual problems, mental health problems, and combinations of both.

Medication can help some people. If it does not work well enough, it is reasonable to talk to a doctor and try alternatives. I would never claim to know better than medical professionals, and I would never try to work against them.

At the same time, I believe that for some people medication alone does not solve everything.

I absolutely believe that spiritual practices such as energy work, cleansing rituals and shamanic techniques can help people when used as support, not as a replacement for medical care.

I have seen it help heartbroken people, anxious people, and people with much deeper struggles.

It requires common sense, a healthy middle ground, and the right people.

Energy work itself is controversial. Some people will dismiss it outright. That is fine. I am not here to debate anyone.

I believe because I have experienced things that felt too strange to explain away as coincidence.

Everyone is free to have their own truth.

The Cursed Dreams

So what finally made me stop offering spellwork?

One reason were definitely the dreams that came with it. More specifically, false awakenings.

One of the most intense cases happened while I was working with a client who had issues with his brother.

He was a man in his late twenties. On the surface he seemed perfectly normal, even good-looking and charming. But when you looked closer, something was clearly off.

He lived in a cramped shared apartment with no money, and the plans he had for improving his life were naive and doomed to fail. This was not tarot insight. It was simple common sense.

He had a profession, he was attractive, he could have built a normal life. Yet every idea he chased was unrealistic. The way he refused to work in his original blue-collar job but was chasing other blue-collar jobs he was clearly not qualified for (and actually, did not seem like the kind of person who would qualify for exactly this), how he stayed trapped on unemployment-benefits instead of taking a job (he could easily get, if he had applied for the right jobs), the living situation in the shared apartment and how he was keeping himself stuck in being broke … that smelled like spiritual sabotage.

Still, that was not why he contacted me, and he shut me down fast when I tried to talk about the issues. So i respected that and did not go deeper into it.

The reason he contacted me was because he believed his brother was draining his energy, and I focused on the problem he believed he had.

That evening I went into meditation.

What I saw was a cord extending from his root chakra to his brother. Attached to the brother was a large red horned figure that seemed to be manipulating that cord.

My immediate thought was: That’s it.

The brother’s spiritual attachment was influencing my client through that connection.

My plan was simple: cut the cord, secure the client’s side, and let the brother deal with whatever remained. After all, I had been hired to help the client, not his brother.

Before continuing, I should explain something important.

I do not believe that the images seen during meditation are literal. I believe energy is translated by the mind into symbolic visuals that make the experience easier to understand.

So I do not think there was a literal red devil playing with a rope between two brothers.

But the energy behind that image felt very real.

After finishing the work, I asked the client how he felt.

He said he felt “different,” but could not explain how.

I told him to give it some time.

Then I went to bed. What I experienced the following night was a dream phenomena which i linked to energy work over the years, as I had only encountered that when I was working for people with a specific set of spiritual problems.

The False Awakening Loop

Later that night I found myself standing in my grandparents’ kitchen.

My great-grandmother was sitting in her wheelchair, staring out the kitchen window at her favorite spot. The strange thing was not that she was there. The strange thing was my own reaction.

My mind was filled with relief.

Why did I ever think she was dead? I thought. She’s right here.

And then the guilt followed immediately.

What kind of person imagines their own great-grandmother dying when she is clearly still alive?

The problem with that thought was simple: my great-grandmother had died. A long time ago.

But in that moment it did not feel like a dream at all. It felt like normal life. I could feel temperature, I could eat, I could interact with my grandparents. Everything behaved exactly like reality.

At some point I went to sleep. And then I woke up again. I cooked. I did chores. I lived a completely normal life.

Months seemed to pass like that.

About three months into this strange, perfectly normal life, I started noticing something that bothered me more and more. My great-grandmother was always there. Always sitting in the same chair. Always staring out the window. She never moved. She never spoke. And every time I looked at her I felt the same strange resistance inside me, like some instinct warning me not to interact with her.

It was a mixture of emptiness and something darker. Something hostile.

Eventually I decided I had to confront it. I walked over to her chair and tried to speak to her.

The moment she turned around, she opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something. But before a word could come out, her face began to twist and melt into a grotesque grimace.

And at that exact moment I woke up.

My heart was racing.

Thank God, I thought. It was only a dream.

I looked around and realized I was lying in the spare bedroom upstairs at my grandparents’ house. I pushed the blanket aside, got up, and started walking down the stairs toward the kitchen.

Halfway down the stairs my grandmother stepped out of the kitchen and told me to come in. When I entered the kitchen I saw my great-grandmother sitting there in her wheelchair. That was when I realized something was wrong. I was still dreaming.

I woke up again.

Once again I was in the spare bedroom upstairs. Relieved, I got up and walked down the stairs. Halfway down the stairs my grandmother stepped out of the kitchen and told me to come in. The exact same sequence played out again. And again. And again.

The entire scene repeated itself seven or eight times. By the eighth or ninth loop I realized what was happening the moment I “woke up” in that spare bedroom. I knew something important. In reality I was not sleeping in that spare bedroom at all. I was asleep in my own bed in my own apartment. But no matter what I did, I could not wake up for real.

So when I went downstairs again and my grandmother stepped out of the kitchen to invite me inside, I refused. I could see a red glow reflecting on the walls behind her. I somehow knew that glow came from hellfire burning in the basement. Instead of entering the kitchen, I tried to run past her and reach the basement. She sent me back.

Another false awakening.

Back in the spare bedroom.

The same thing happened three times.

The fourth time I managed to slip past her and run down to the basement. I entered the room where my grandmother kept the big freezer, the one filled with berries and mushrooms she collected every year, and the plastic ice-cream containers she used for suprise leftovers.

Standing next to the freezer was the same red horned figure I had seen earlier during meditation. He looked at me with a provoking grin.

I walked toward him and started shouting:

“I AM NOT SCARED OF YOU. DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? I’M A SHAMAN. AND YOU DO NOT SCARE ME.”

He seemed genuinely surprised.

Then everything reset again.

This time I woke up in my own bed. The room was darker than usual. Normally the street lights outside always cast some light into my bedroom, but this time it was almost pitch black. I assumed I had finally woken up. I got out of bed, walked to the kitchen to drink some water and smoke a cigarette.

When I reached the kitchen, the chair I wanted to sit on was already occupied. The red horned figure was sitting there. Another false awakening. I started shouting at him again.

Then everything reset.

I woke up in my bed again.

This loop happened several more times before I finally woke up for real.

When i finally did wake up for real, I didn’t believe it was real. It took a cup of coffee, two cigarettes, and a shower before I slowly started to believe that this time I had actually woken up, and that I actually was back in the real world this time.

The Arrogance I Didn’t Notice

This was not the only time dreams like this happened after spiritual work.

But I didn’t care, because I thought I could handle it with ease.

For more than four years I offered spellwork. I believed that although certain energies might harm other people, they could never harm me.

My confidence, even the way I shouted at those figures in my dreams, came from that belief.

I was convinced I was untouchable.

The Last Spellwork Client

What finally changed everything for me did not happen during the dream. It happened later, during the last energy work I ever did for a client.

She was a woman from São Paulo who believed she was experiencing spiritual problems connected to being a starseed. During our conversation it became clear that she was not in a particularly well-paid profession, and money was tight for her.

When I worked with people, I usually tried to quietly understand their financial situation and adjust the price accordingly. My philosophy was simple. If someone genuinely needed help but could barely afford it, I would lower the price. Clients who had more financial freedom would indirectly compensate for that.

I never worked completely for free. I did not want to create the expectation that spiritual work should be free, and I also did not want to attract people who were only looking for freebies or entertainment. But if someone showed goodwill and did their best to pay what they could, I showed goodwill in return.

So for this client we agreed on fifty US-dollars for the entire working.

For her that was a lot of money. For me it felt almost symbolic, a sign of goodwill more than a real price. Although that was before inflation changed the world, and 50 USD still payed for delivery pizza for the whole family.

That evening I went into meditation to do the cleansing work.

During the process I saw something that stayed with me.

There was a door.

And the energy radiating from that door was so intensely negative that my first instinct was very clear: I should not walk through it.

For a moment I hesitated.

But I was arrogant.

I walked through anyway.

I will not describe what I saw behind that door. It involves personal details about the client, and I do not turn clients into content. What matters is not the details of what was there, but what happened afterwards.

The amount of negative energy I encountered felt overwhelming. And my body reacted violently.

You do not have to believe that the fever that followed had a spiritual cause. I understand that many people will see it as coincidence. But the timeline is what it is: I did the astral work that night, and only a few hours later I developed the worst fever I have ever experienced in my life. And I am not exaggerating. Believe me, I wished I was.

For three days I was burning. My body was sweating in a way I had never experienced before. I drifted in and out of consciousness. I could barely move.

At some point my by the time five-year-old daughter realized something was very wrong. She tried to wake me up.

She couldn’t.

So she called my mother.

My mother lives several hours away. When she heard my daughter’s voice on the phone, she immediately got into the car and drove to our home.

For three days she took care of us. She woke me up every few hours and forced me to drink water because I was completely dehydrated. I do not remember most of those moments.

What I do remember are the fever dreams. They were unlike anything I had experienced before. At times I felt like I was dissolving into the universe itself, becoming one with the universe and all that’s in it. It was WILD. And no, I do not do drugs, never did, I am not on medication, I do not smoke weed (or any other plants) and not drink alcohol, as I believe alcohol lowers the vibration. The only bad habit I have is smoking cigarettes. That wild trip was caused by the high fever alone.

When the fever finally broke and I slowly returned to my senses, my first clear thought was simple.

That could have gone very wrong.

I realized how close the situation had come to something much more serious. And in that moment the arrogance I had carried for years suddenly felt absurd.

Until then I had always believed that even if certain energies could harm other people, they could never harm me. That belief vanished in an instant. For the first time I asked myself a question I had never taken seriously before:

What if one day I encounter something that is too big for me to handle?

What if next time my body cannot cleanse it out the way it did this time?

What if next time there is no fever that burns it away?

What if next time I simply cannot survive a fever like that?

And another thought followed right behind it.

Fifty dollars is not enough to risk your life.

That realization stayed with me.

And it is the reason spellwork disappeared from my services list.

Choosing Safety Over Income

That decision was not easy.

Spellwork had been my main source of income. Around 80 to 90 percent of what I earned came from it. Tarot readings were only a small part.

Without spellwork I became just another tarot reader on the internet.

But in the end I came to a simple conclusion. I would rather starve as an ordinary tarot reader than risk my life doing something that dangerous again.

Looking back now, I still believe it was the right decision.

And I continue to stand by that choice till today.