(before I share this shit just know this has triggering topics so please read at your own risk)
every day the angels tell me the same thing
“You’re here for a reason”
I haven’t always seen them, and at first they weren’t as vivid as they are today. But I remember the first time I saw one.
It started when I was about ten. my teacher told my mother I wasn’t getting along with anyone in class, but instead I was talking to myself. My mother wasn’t very pleased. She never was. She yelled at me on the way home. Begging me to just act like a normal child. That night she called my grandmother and had me spend the week with her. Most of my visit with her was a blur. I still only remember bits of it in the form of nightmares. I do know they performed an exorcism. I think that’s what invited the angels. I never heard from my friends again
I remember Sitting at home on my bed trying to talk to the voices in my head… I couldn’t hear them this time. Instead I saw a faint ball of light in the corner of my room. It said what it always does “you’re here for a reason” It was like a whisper but in the tone of a whistle. Like if the ringing in your ears sounded like someone talking to you.
I was terrified. But God forbid I told anyone about it this time.
I wished I could tell someone about it. This time it was scary. I didn’t have anyone telling me it was okay. And every time my mother got angry they would just stare at me. I hated them
My mother said they had the exorcism because they loved me. But the angles never helped me. They just followed me around.
I learned that the angrier my mother got the brighter and louder they got. Always there to remind me. My mother kept doing drugs and kept getting angrier. She started to hit me saying I deserved it.
The combination of her and the angels made me realize that I really did. “I’m here for a reason.”
Eventually I learned I could make them go away. It took a combination of alcohol, drugs and just spacing out for hours on end. I got good at that last one. No matter what was happening I could always just step away from my body and just leave. They started to fade as I used the tricks I could. Eventually forgetting about them altogether.
My mother’s anger never got better. her own emotional needs being shoved on me. Swinging from manic episodes where she’d try to kill me to depressive episodes where she wouldn’t do shit. Only drink and whine about her problems to me. After I got tired enough of her shit and told her off enough times she decided I would be of use to her somehow. So… she started selling me off. Using me as a toy for her drug buddies so she’d get shit for free. I hated everything about my life but I just learned how to ignore it. Just like my family and the police.
After years of moving from one place to another. New husband after the next. Cps cases stacked higher than my hip. Each drug fueled binge and depressive episode after the next. Coming out, being sent to conversion. I somehow survived. I made it to eighteen and ran away after she’d tried to kill me.
I had enough. I was old enough and I was done. I didn’t care what happened to me next. It had to be better than with that bitch. I ended up moving into an apartment with some dude I barely knew from work. To me it was better than the shelter I was constantly being fondled and stalked at.
He seemed cool at first. Him and I would trade drugs. Mostly weed and heroin. But one night he brought his buddy over. They brought a Tupperware full of mushrooms and acid. I’d never tried it before so I said fuck it why not.
At first they started me off small. I didn’t see anything, feel anything, hear anything. So my roommate gave me more. Still. Nothing. He started to get pissed saying”there’s no fucking way you’ve never tripped with your tolerance so jacked” I didn’t really know what to say so I just let him keep going. He eventually gave me a full tab of acid and that’s when it hit me. All at once. He hadn’t stopped spewing bullshit at this point but it was one phrase that fucking brought them back.
“Have a bad trip, see demons. angels. something!! STOP FUCKING WITH ME”
I felt like I time traveled back to my mother yelling at me again. I could see them clearer than I ever could.
But this time they said more.
It felt like they were talking to me over the span of a whole fucking day. They told me about the real creation of man. The multiple universes and how god never existed. But what finally did me in was what they’ve been trying to tell me the whole time
“You’re here for a reason. We needed to see how much abuse humanity could inflict on a single person. We made sure to put your life in harm’s way as often as we possibly could. We made you identify as transgender to see how your rights being stripped away would affect your desire to fit in. We picked you because your mother chose to continue drugs and not receive psychological help. We prompted you into scenarios where men and women would rape you and we made sure you would miscarry.
All of this to understand the ethics of the human race today. To determine if it is time for the rapture. We have already decided that when your life ends, judgment day will be upon you and we have begun to prepare. The method of your death with further cement the destiny of humanity into stone”
I stood there stunned. Horrified. Enraged.
How could they do this to me. They CHOSE ME? THEY FUCKED MY LIFE UP!? THEY MADE MY LIFE SO FUCKED I CLUNG TO DRUGS TO KEEP MYSELF ALIVE?!?!
I couldn’t handle it. I cried. Wailed. In front of an immortal being that I wasn’t even sure was fucking real.
It sure as shit felt real though.
After a few minutes of me just sobbing I asked “so if I kill myself it ends? I doom all of of humanity as it is? Myself included?”
“Correct”
My heart sank “is there a way to fix it?” I don’t even know what I was trying to do, pleading with a literal god
“Not completely. But if you manage to survive and find some semblance of hope that humanity has compassion left, then judgment will be passed fairly.”
I couldn’t believe it. I legitimately had the fate of humanity in my fucking hands. I begged the angels to not do this, to stop the abuse, to make me immortal even. But at this point their voices became less coherent. I stopped being able to understand them again.
Eventually the high started to fade. The angels voices faded completely and I kept ruminating on that one thought. At that moment and for the next three weeks I thought about ending it. I thought humanity deserved it. I really did.
But then I thought about the experiences I had with pride. The one place I was sober the whole day without wanting to hurt myself. I felt welcome.
I guess I came to the conclusion that it was my responsibility to keep shit going for as long as I could. No matter how much I wanted to die. I know the angels are trying to put me in the path of trauma. No diagnosis of schizophrenia or psychosis can explain every single detail of torture I continue to endure. No medication has stopped me from being able to see them. I know I’m the end of humanity. I’m reminded of that every night. Every time I’m raped, drugged, used, beat, abandoned. every time my life is threatened.
I’m told “you’re here for a reason”
I know I am the antichrist. And I’m here to apologize for not changing the outcome sooner…