Obsessive thoughts aren’t demons—they’re dogs. Train them.
There’s a lot of bad advice out there for dealing with obsessive, fearful thoughts. Most of it sounds like it was written by someone clutching a dreamcatcher in one hand and a Bible verse in the other. Take Stanley Popovich’s Managing Your Fearful And Obsessive Thoughts—a well-meaning pamphlet wrapped in bubble wrap and Christian-lite affirmations.
“The more a person tries to reason out the thought or focus on the fear behind the thought, the stronger the thought becomes.”
No shit. But Popovich’s solution? Don’t dwell. Just move on. That’s like telling someone bleeding out to just not look at it too hard. Fear doesn’t shrink because you politely ignore it. Fear shrinks when it’s confronted, dissected, and told who the fuck is in charge.
Red Stop Signs and the Gospel of Avoidance
Popovich’s next big fix? Picture a red stop sign. Seriously.
“Visualize a red stop sign in their mind… think of something else.”
Are we children? This kind of magical thinking doesn’t empower—it sedates. It trains you to fear your own mind, to flinch when the shadows come close. Satanism teaches the opposite: run toward the roar. Face the thought. Wrestle it to the mat. Ask it what it wants, and then decide if it deserves to live.
Using a stop sign isn’t mastery—it’s mental duct tape. It doesn’t remove the engine of fear. It just slaps a sticker on the check-engine light and tells you to keep driving.
Pocket Verses and Pep-Talk Notebooks
Then comes the softest hit of all:
“Keep a small notebook of positive statements… carry this notebook around… whenever they feel anxious, they can read it.”
Aww. How touching. Carry your mental security blanket around like a toddler in a thunderstorm. That’s not strength—that’s outsourcing your power to paper. You shouldn’t need a notebook to remind you you’re okay. You should know you’re okay—because you built yourself to be.
If Satanists carried notebooks, they’d be full of war plans, not Pinterest quotes. You don’t fight chaos with affirmations—you fight it with knowledge, resolve, and brutal fucking honesty.
Fear Isn’t Reality—But It’s Still Real
Here’s one thing Popovich almost gets right:
“Remember that these thoughts are exaggerated and are not based on reality.”
Correct. But then he ruins it by recommending you drown the fear in feel-good substitutes. And that’s the problem with most self-help drivel—it identifies the issue, then sugarcoats it into submission.
Satanism doesn’t sugarcoat. It doesn’t flinch. If a fear is irrational, call it out. Laugh at it. Turn it into fuel. But don’t pretend it doesn’t exist, and don’t try to wallpaper over it with empty positivity. Face it like a beast. Drag it into the light and claim your territory.
Don’t Manage Your Mind—Dominate It
The article closes with:
“There are ways to deal with your obsessive thoughts and with the proper treatment you can live a productive life.”
Productive. Like a well-oiled cog. Like a smiling citizen who checks their notebook before they cry. Satanism doesn’t give a rat’s ass about productivity. It’s about sovereignty. It’s about becoming the god of your own psyche.
That means facing thoughts that scare you. That means owning every intrusive impulse and saying: “This is mine. I will master it—or burn it down trying.”
Devil’s Mirror: Ritual, Not Repression
If you're haunted by looping fear, don't hide from it—ritualize it. Give your anxiety a stage, a time limit, a spotlight. Let it perform. Let it scream. Then bow, close the curtain, and walk the fuck away. That’s will. That’s psychodrama. That’s Satanic magic—not “spellcasting,” but the theater of command.
Popovich says:
“Ignore the fear… regardless how strong the fear may be.”
But fear isn’t a mosquito to swat. It’s a storm to ride. Ignore it, and it festers. Embrace it, and it obeys.
Killer Closer: Burn the Notebook. Light the Throne.
So here’s what I say:
Toss the notebook. Burn the stop sign. Shove the verses up whatever celestial orifice they came from. You don’t need another coping strategy. You need to take the fucking wheel.
Obsessive thoughts? Fearful fantasies? They’re not demons. They’re dogs. And you? You’re not a victim of the kennel—you’re the goddamn keeper of it.
Embrace who you are. Live your best possible life. Conquer your perceived world.
And to Stanley Popovich—author of A Layman’s Guide to Managing Fear—thanks for trying, really. But some of us aren’t here to manage fear. We’re here to drag it down, break its teeth, and make it watch while we build thrones from its bones.
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