So, I think I'm cursed. Every time anything bad happens to me, I think I'm cursed. Thanks to Jason Miller's Protection and Reversal Magick, I can honestly say that there's a grain of truth to the thought. Being cursed and living under "crossed conditions" are the same thing, pretty much. It doesn't take a magician to curse you, you might have pissed off a spirit of a place, or you may just have some astrological bullshit going on, or maybe you're suffering from rejection by your peers or something. No matter the source of the curse, it manifests in your life as a string of bad luck, illness, or something like that. Magic is effective against this kind of thing regardless of the source.
I (and I'm sure you'll be shocked) tend to annoy other magicians from time to time. I have this open honesty about me that I can't help but project onto the world. On occasion, I'll say something true about someone in a way that doesn't bring them spiritual edification (you're the cum-slick whore of the occult community, a waste of human flesh, and your next incarnation as the sphincter of a Spanish goat guarded by lonely, but well-endowed shepherds is more than you deserve), and then when the bad luck starts a week or so later, I tend to assume they've cursed me.
Most of the time I shrug it off. Every divination I've done to determine whether I've been cursed or not comes back positive. Every time I suspect it's someone in particular, sure enough the cards or tumblers tell me I'm right. When I ask the spirits, the voices in my head confirm that yes, Frater (or Soror) XYZ is personally responsible for my current affliction.
Naturally, I figure I'm full of shit in these circumstances. Any time I get a confirmation of my paranoid prejudices, I tend to question it. I've come to accept that I'm too in love with me, too subjective to do an unbiased divination on myself to get accurate results in this kind of thing (although horary looks interesting). So, I'll usually settle for your basic uncrossing ritual, and then recite Genesis 12:3 ("I will bless them that bless thee and curse them that curse thee; and in thee shall all nations of the Earth be blessed") a few times until I'm back to normal (whatever the fuck that passes for these days). No big deal.
A couple of weeks ago, I started getting the feeling I was cursed. Allergies and asthma like never before are plaguing me. According to some loving people, I need to accept that it's middle age creeping up on me and the only curse I'm suffering is hay fever because it's Spring. (Yay, Spring. Yay. Fucking spring and pollen and mold and rain and flowers and bees and yay. Fuck Maryland Spring. I'm moving to the desert. Give me shin daggers, give me Joshua trees, give me mesquite and vinegaroons and prickly pear jam. Deserts get Spring too, and it's beautiful, and you don't have asthma attacks brought on by high pollen counts. One day, Lord, let it be.) It might be middle age creeping up on me, and it might just be Spring on the East Coast that's suffocating me and leaving me unable to form a thought.
I had coincidentally told someone what I thought of them right before the symptoms began manifesting. Maybe if I would just keep my mouth shut and recognize that every human being is a manifestation of God worthy of compassion and charity, maybe if I would truly do unto others as I would have them do unto me, maybe if I really loved the stupid fucks of the world I wouldn't be thinking I was cursed every time I went through a change of life. I'll work on that. Soon.
No, really. I mean it this time. FOR REAL.
Well, regardless, I cracked open 777. The dude's a GD-trained Ceremonialist, for one thing, and they totally love 777; it's like ingrained in their brain. Even if he wasn't personally responsible, I've got it in an Excel spreadsheet and it's easy to do a global search. I could barely breathe at the time, I wasn't up to thumbing through Skinner's Complete Book of Magical Tables looking for the traditional stuff. 777 isn't perfect, but it's good enough in a pinch.
I looked up Respiratory functions and the Lungs. These correspond to Aleph and Zain. What Spirits do I know that start with A and Z, offensive in the elements? Azazel springs to mind, and Azael. Air and Water, respectively. I can't breathe, Air, and I feel like I'm drowning, Water. That's enough for me.
Next stop, the Esoteric Archives. Ok, I was already there anyway, looking at the Scale of the Number Four. It's not like I remember all the demons and their elemental attributes that I've ever seen in my studies. That's why we have the Internet after all. Running a search on "Azazel" turned up a few pages on Joe's site. Most were from Agrippa's Three Books of Occult Philosophy, one indicated he pops up in the Grimorum Verum (which I have around here, somewhere), and one was from the 6th and 7th Books of Moses.
On that link above, if you do a Find on "Azazel" (hold your control key down and press the "F" key), it takes you right to the pertinent parts. There's a handy dandy Name of God there that's suitable for lifting any afflictions from the Princes of Devils Offensive in the Elements. Incorporating that into a nice ritual didn't take too long, and the effect was immediate.
I also took some medicine. I believe that even if a disease is spiritually caused, the body's going to need to heal anyway. Taking away the source of the affliction helps, fer sure, but you've got to do something about the symptoms.
So I took some B-Complex vitamins for my brain, God knows it needs it regardless of any crossed conditions. I also took some vitamin C to boost my immune system, some Claritin for the allergies, and huffed on some Albuterol for the asthma. Oh yeah, some generic Mucinex (which is Guaifenesin, look for it in cheaper stuff by name) for the congestion. I'll be combining that particular alchemy with some Enochian conjurations of EHNB later to put those particular chemical blocks where they can do the most good. The Christian axiom "In the World, but not of the World" comes to mind.