The Academy for Psychic Studies - Blood In, Blood Out.

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if you know what's good for you.

"cults are easy to get into and hard to get out of whereas a true religion is hard to get into and easy to get out of, and that's the measure."

That's from a comment left on Psychdoctorate's blog.

Think about it.

How was the love bombing when you encountered the Academy for Psychic Studies? Didn't you feel special? Weren't you "validated where you are at"?

Wasn't everyone so friendly and helpful. Didn't they seem like the best people in the world?

Now, how did it all change?

I looked up some information on cults. It takes, on average, about 1.8 years for someone to get drawn into a cult so deep, it is difficult to get out.

So for nearly two years, they have the opportunity to hook you and reel you in like a trout.

I know it took me maybe that long. I think it was about a year, maybe less. After a few months of taking a hell of a lot of classes, I made myself scarce for a few months. When I showed up again, I took a few more classes then enrolled in the infamous Clairvoyant Training Program.

That period of insanity began my decade-long crazy and pretty much debilitating journey with the Academy for Psychic Studies.

I felt like I shed some blood as I was taking those "beginning classes". While considering all the "pictures" the readers were giving me during their psychotic readings, I thought my life was swirling down the drain. I thought I was headed for the gates of hell itself. It's the only time I can remember where I felt hopeless. It's also the only time I remember where I thought I found people who will help me.

I got a good number of "psychic readings". And those "psychic readings" consisted of some fat bastard or middle-aged burn-out case sitting across from you in a metal chair (which groaned under the stress) closing his or her eyes, and relating to you whatever "pictures" emerged during their LSD flashback. They provided "healing" by waving their hands in the air - probably to disperse the noxious fart they just ripped after eating one of the Academy's "nutritious" meals.

They welcomed me to the "retreats" - a weekend trip either to their headquarters for days of trance or to one of their special locations to wherever. Some of them were to Calistoga to take in the spas (which I was doing regularly anyway - without them) or to exotic locations like a county fair. The accommodations were pretty sparse. You brought a sleeping bag to bunk on the floor or curl up in a stinky old tent pitched in the middle of a cow pasture. You could use a cow pie as a pillow or footrest.

The food was pretty much crap. Poorly made and not much of it.

But somehow I didn't mind. I somehow appreciated the "simplicity" of the environment.

And I never thought twice about spending $200 of my hard-earned money to attend and an additional $75 to eat food that just made you fart.

What was I thinking, you might ask?

I was thinking about the nice people - the people who waved their hands in healing after they "lit up pictures in your space".

It wasn't until now I realized the "pictures in my space" wasn't anything more than a crazy pseudo-hypnotic suggestion they planted during their psychotic readings. Hell, I whatever I had going on wasn't so serious that I couldn't get over it with a beer and a ball game or better yet, a good game of lacrosse. Or in fact, if it was more serious, it's nothing a trip to the head doc and a proven treatment program could work out.

But those people seemed to be the only ones who understood. And the usual treatments you can get from available sources weren't effective, according to them.

Since they were the ones who were creating those problems, they were the ones who could fix them

What were those psychic readings like?

Think of this: you're sitting there, semi-comfortable and calm when someone tells you "you have a problem being in competition with your father. You have to live up to his expectations and he wants you to live his life the way he wanted it."

Now considering that most fathers want their sons and daughters to have a better life then they, it's a pretty general statement. But, the trained psychotics at the Academy for Psychic Studies are well trained to give those kind of statements. The pictures they read in your aura, chakras, navel or other orifice somehow seem to be the same ones for anyone: they are descriptions of events, situations, emotions or attitudes that come across as character flaws, disappointments, inadequacies.. Those descriptions are communicated in a way to make you feel there is something wrong with you.

And like waving away a fart, those same psychotics wave away your troubles in an instant.

The problem is that like a fart, if you eat the same damn thing, you get the same damn fart.

You get hooked, addicted to the smell, You get dependent on the waving of hands. You desperately seek out the same old "pictures" hoping you will somehow find that one magic pill that removes your pain.

It's like taking Ecstacy (don't ask me how I know this but I will admit to being at raves under chemical enhancement) - you feel good for a while, then you have Suicide Tuesday where you crash hard. The only cure besides riding it out well away from bridges, knives, ropes and sleeping pills is to grab another hit of E.

And like Ecstacy, you'll put up with a lot of shit because everything feels so good and people are sooooooo nice and you love them all and you love the love they all give you and the back rubs feel good and the colors and pictures and music are starting to look so cool you get in a state of trance you just don't want to end...

If that sounds a lot like your last rave experience (well, it was MINE) you get a gold pacifier for your gritting teeth. I'll throw in a couple of glow sticks as well.

But like all raves, it all ends at some point. Sure there's another one coming, but you still have to get through the week.

That week was the never-ending demand for work, money, free labor, attendance in mind control sessions, money, crazy errands and more money.

So if you were in a never-ending rave where you could trance out on weekends while you groan, sweat, cringe and practically beg for your life the rest of the time do you think you'd be able to leave?

Before you answer YES, think about addictions and how they work. Can you "just say no"? Uhhh, NO. Can you just cold turkey your addiction? Uhhhhhh, NO.

What were we addicted to? Uhhhh, maybe the the healings from the fart-wavers?

I don't know. Maybe we could have just walked at any damn time. Sure. Ever see a drug addict tell you he can stop using any time?

Once you start getting your psychotic reading and once those fat bastards and dried up female genitalia give you the energy healings that make you feel like you took enough E to make even the Witches of Ellsworth look good, you are now under the influence and addicted to their evil brand of psychotic love.

So when they pick your pocket while they slap you in the face, you won't mind - in fact, you'll just get another psychotic reading to find the root cause of your parsimony.

When you are working late into the night for no pay and not even a cup of coffee (those cost a dollar a cup, bucko) for a project that earns money only for the Witches, you'll feel happy to help.

If you ever have a second thought about who is really getting a benefit from all the free labor and all the money you hand over, you'll just let the Witches of Ellsworth trance you out so you won't hesitate to give them your last dollar.

Don't even think about leaving either. The Witches send you warm and nurturing suggestions during your trance. Those suggestions tell you the world is an evil place, your parents are not to be trusted, your family wants to exploit you, your career is nothing but legal larceny and of course, the Witches of Ellsworth Street are nothing more then kind and gentle angels like Beaver's mom and you are among the elite who are part of the greatest place on Earth.

So leaving is painful. It took me months. It took my wife about a year or more. Withdrawal sucks. Not the birth control kind, idiot! I'm talking about the getting off drugs kind.

We were addicts - addicts to the love bombs. We needed it every day and if we missed a good hit of psychic ecstasy because the Witches of Ellsworth decided to pummel us with insults, degradation and verbal waterboarding, somehow we still stuck around hoping tomorrow we could score.

Even while entering the Academy for Psychic Studies was as easy as just showing up, we spilled our psychic blood as our ticket.

And for the dozens, maybe even hundreds of us who left this dysfunctional, demented, worthless and totally dishonest organization, the act of leaving involved the shedding of tears of blood.

Our tears flowed like rivers when we realized how much time, money, effort and close relationships we lost while we wasted our lives with it. Our blood boiled as we realized how much of life we missed and how much damage to our souls was done.

What's worse: we lost time, money energy, youth, love and opportunities we will never get back.

For all we invested in our psychotic experience, leaving was like cutting off a limb, piercing our heart, losing a part of our soul.

So like a prison gang, joining the Academy for Psychic Studies is truly blood in, blood out.

You have to wonder if the Witches drink it while you bleed.