Last revision: August 24, 2025 10:03:pm est
Table of Contents
I wasn't suicidal the way people think.
I wasn't just trying to end the pain, I wanted to end its very existence. Not for virtuous reasons, not to prevent the suffering of others. My obsession was driven by my own selfish revenge.
And I was willing to die to get it.
I began to hunt this psychopath, this first cause of all my suffering. In doing so, I followed desperation to its final breath.
Whoever dared to face this rage was going to suffer for doing this to me, for condemning me to this Hell on Earth.
I swore upon death itself that I would finally confront whoever held the power, whoever caused this pain. And not even God himself was going to stop me.
I'd burn this world to the ground just to end the suffering. So I did, to ashes. The logic of the mentally unwell.
Soon my relationships,
my career,
my family,
my health
were all gone.
I was dying.
And eventually all of the personalities I developed to escape reality came together in protest. Even they had enough of me, this unbearable chaos, this endless prison.
But in that moment of desperation, I finally heard their plea. They weren't my friends like I thought, they weren't my savior. They were my victims. I was torturing them.
I needed them so badly for security that I imprisoned them in my mind. They were the only ones who couldn't escape my wrath, the only ones who couldn't leave me.
But the delusion was beginning to crack. And eventually, I had no choice but to face the terrifying reality, I was talking to imaginary people, and arguing with them.
I was mentally ill.
So, with hesitation, I purged the last of myself in preparation for death. As I put the gun to my head, I showed them mercy. I unlocked the cage and set them free. My emotional safety no longer there, my dam keeping the insanity at bay, vanishing before my eyes. I finally let go, of everything.
"It's time. I'm ready to see you."
As I mourned them more deeply than I've ever thought possible, the feeling of death and despair filled the void. Without resistance it rushed right in, quickly consuming my entire being. I became what I always feared most.
Myself.
I quickly lost control, pure fury incarnate. I screamed into the void like a demon starved for vengeance. My words no longer coherent in the physical world. I was speaking in tongues, speaking the language of the damned, the language of the insane.
"i'M FiNaLLy HeRe!"
I was so far beyond broken, I threatened my own creator, this world, this reality. Can you even comprehend that level of desperation? To stare into the abyss, bracing for impact. To face whatever rises from this darkness.
"wHaT aRe YoU wAiTiNg FoR?!"
The demon inside me was so exposed, so raw, even a lost, mentally ill child could see it. Even I could see it. Evil was being called to the light, Satan fully unleashed to challenge God. The holy war for this soul had begun. It was my exorcism. It was my Judgement Day.
"No more. This ends now!
I don't care if you made me.
I don't care iF YoU'rE AlL-PoWeRfUL
NoTHiNg iS MoRE PoWErFuL tHaN My HaTRed FoR YOU!
ThE OnLy THiNG I WaNT iS To FeEL YoUR SuFfERinG.
I LuST FoR iT, It FeELs So
GoOD.
Let's go then, God? Satan?
Show yourself to me. NOW!
STOP THE LYING!
STOP THE GAMES!
STOP THIS CHILDISH BULLSHIT!
I DEMAND TO SEE THE TRUTH!!!
---
And finally, the void spoke back:
"Ask, and you shall receive.
You're finally ready to see the real world, child."
---
Then came the flood. Not towering waves of water, revelation. An onslaught of painful childhood memories. Seemingly endless suffering. My childhood trauma was revealed to me in vivid, excruciating detail.
God presented pure evil to me, for me to cast my judgment.
It will make you sweat, scream, cry, vomit, choke, and suffocate all at once. The mind purging delusion and confronting truth for the first time.
My exorcism led me to the depths of hell, where I found what I had spent my entire life searching for. The answers to my suffering.
I saw delusion.
Self-destruction.
Denial.
Mental illness.
I was the embodiment of suffering and chaos. Blinded by revenge. Forgiveness, not an option.
But in this heightened clarity, the mental illness laid itself bare before me. Satan laid himself bare before God. As I acknowledged the fires of my own making raging in every direction, I realized,
"I didn't just find hell. I created it."
And then, all my delusions crumbled. I began to see this world, this reality clearly because I was no longer too scared to look without my safe, childish delusions.
"Now that you have seen what was done to you, and what you have done to others, are you able to accept this reality? Can you forgive this world, your abusers, and yourself for causing this necessary suffering? Or do you judge free will guilty, are you truly ready to leave?"
By accepting full accountability for my suffering and my happiness, by facing the reality of my own behavior, I unlocked empathy, grew into emotional maturity, and finally found peace.
I witnessed the pain inside me, the pain I had caused, and the misery I was about to unleash. Satan in its purest form. Nothing is more cruel than forcing a mother to bury her own child. That is truly evil.
So I put the gun down.
I understood that the path forward wasn’t more death and destruction, but forgiveness and understanding.
"I am the architect of my own destruction, but I'm the one in control of my behavior, not this mental illness, not this trauma."
I realized, my abuser was me. It had always been me.
I was Satan.
I was the virus.
But I'm also God. And I am the cure.
This book is not here to soothe you. It won't validate your victimhood or tell you that time, or wishing for it, will magically fix everything.
Healing is not passive. It's not a waiting game. It's an active battle against every false belief you've ever clung to, every comforting lie you've ever told yourself, every delusion that has kept you shackled in confusion.
The sickness does not fade on its own, it must be exposed, studied, and understood.
To truly heal, you must be willing to let go of everything you currently believe. Allow yourself to be wrong. Tear down the false narratives that have kept you trapped in suffering and replace them with clarity.
This process is not comfortable and it's not easy. Most people avoid it until the desperation of rock bottom forces them to face what they have spent their entire lives running from. If you are truly ready to heal, if you are tired of the suffering, if you're sick of being sick, sharpen your mind and strengthen your resolve, because this is war.
But you are not being thrown into the fire without a way out. I will not abandon you in the darkness. I am here to pull you up from the depths.
I stand before you, against the oncoming storm of emotional pain with electricity flowing throughout my body as I type these words. My shield raised high with unwavering resolve, ready to bear the full force of the darkness about to be unleashed upon you.
I am no longer afraid. Behind the safety of my shield, you will achieve clarity and understanding. Under my protection, you will reclaim the courage to stand beside me with your own shield, to stare directly into its eyes, into evil itself, and cast your judgment.
If you take my hand and refuse to let go, I promise, you will be reborn.
Part I: The Components of Suffering: Well-being, Trauma, Delusion and Mental Illness
For centuries, people have spoken about the soul as if it were something separate from the body, something pure that could be stained, saved, or lost. Religion built entire frameworks around the idea that the soul determines a person's worth and ultimate fate. But strip away the mystical language, and what remains is something far more tangible: your well-being.
What many called the "soul" was an early attempt to explain what we now recognize as mental and emotional health. The weight of guilt, the relief of forgiveness, the feeling of being whole or broken, these were never spiritual forces at work. They were psychological experiences.
These people weren't battling for their souls, they were battling narcissism for their own sanity.
Well-being is the foundation of a functional, thriving existence. It determines whether a person feels stable or lost, strong or weak, fulfilled or empty. And when well-being is compromised, whether through trauma, PTSD, neglect, or self-deception, the result is always suffering.
Many never make the connection between the loss of well-being and depression. They accept their misery as fate, something unavoidable, something inherent to life. But suffering is not random. It does not appear without cause.
When people fail to see this connection, they remain stuck. They wait for relief to come from outside sources, from time, from worship, or from others. But these things alone do not heal, action does. Healing does not come from wishful thinking, praying for relief, or waiting for pain to fade on its own. It comes from a direct, deliberate confrontation with suffering itself.
Religious doctrine often describes sin as an act of moral failure, something that offends God. Through the lens of psychology, sin isn't breaking divine laws. It's allowing yourself to be abused. It's anything that destroys well-being, your own or someone else's.
Every time a person neglects their well-being, allows abuse, or refuses to confront their suffering, they are committing the only sin that truly matters, the sin against themselves, life itself.
When well-being is destroyed and suffering takes over, a person falls into a state of separation. They become lost in delusion, rage, and despair, cut off from the truth, cut off from reality, cut off from all life.
Ostracizing yourself from the very species upon which you depend for survival, safety, and emotional well-being, is where true suffering lies. In a social species, ostracization is a death sentence. In the depths of loneliness, it is not a coincidence that this is where suicide takes place.
Your desperation to calm anxiety and return to contentment drives every decision you'll ever make. To combat this, you must always be aware of your own well-being.
Being able to recognize your own well-being is the key to everything. It's the first and most important step in recovery.
1. Recall a Recent Uncomfortable Interaction:
Close your eyes and bring up a recent memory where you felt deeply uncomfortable, anxious, or hurt during an interaction with someone else. Notice the moment clearly in your mind, paying attention to what was said, your physical sensations, and your emotional responses.
2. Identify the Feeling in Your Chest:
As you replay this memory, pinpoint exactly where you feel tension or anxiety. Is it a tightness, heaviness, or sinking sensation? Place your hand there and acknowledge this feeling consciously.
Recognize that this feeling is your body's way of signaling unresolved emotional pain or distress.
3. Ask Yourself These Questions:
What specifically caused me to feel anxious or upset during this interaction?
Have I felt this specific feeling before in similar situations? If yes, try to recall an earlier memory where you felt this exact same sensation.
4. Write It Out Clearly:
Take a moment and write down exactly how you felt, why you believe you reacted this way.
Write down three different ways you could have guided this situation toward a more positive outcome.
5. Reflect on Patterns:
Look for recurring themes in your reactions. Do you often feel misunderstood, attacked, or helpless? Recognize these patterns as signals that something deeper within you is driving your reactions.
6. Acknowledge Your Hidden Suffering:
Many people underestimate how deeply they're suffering. Take a moment to acknowledge the weight of these experiences. Admit clearly to yourself, "I have been suffering deeply. My anxiety and pain is real and deserves my attention and healing at all times."
7. Make a Promise to Yourself:
Write a brief personal commitment in your own words, such as: "I choose to confront my feelings honestly, no matter how uncomfortable they are. I will not dismiss my anxiety as normal or unavoidable-or minimize my suffering anymore. I will seek to understand myself fully."
Repeat this exercise frequently, as self-awareness and acknowledgment are critical first steps toward lasting healing.
Now that you've seen how emotional pain surfaces in everyday interactions, it's time to understand where that pain truly begins, deep within the wounds of trauma.
When you are whole, you learn from pain. If you make a mistake, you face the consequences, adjust your behavior, and grow. This is the foundation of maturity.
But trauma disrupts this natural process. It separates your perception from objective reality. Instead of seeing your mistakes in their true, unfiltered form, your traumatized mind distorts the truth and builds delusions to protect you from guilt, shame, and fear.
Instead of acknowledging, "I caused this suffering," you find yourself asking, "Why do these things keep happening to me?" This is because you are avoiding accountability, and completely unaware that your own behavior is what is causing your suffering.
When you cling to delusions as a coping mechanism, blame external factors, and refuse responsibility for your own suffering, you unknowingly continue to abuse yourself, never recognizing the real source of your pain. You repeat destructive behaviors while remaining blind to their true consequences.
This confusion escalates into overwhelming hopelessness and despair as you feel as though the world is crushing you, and only you.
This cycle repeats endlessly, solidifying your imaginary abuser, plunging you deeper into misery and mental illness. Each repetition reinforces the very delusions that trapped you as you externalize blame, until you no longer understand how you got there or how to escape.
The feeling of being trapped inside your suffering, with no way out, can turn confusion into life-threatening desperation.
Driven by a primal fear to reduce anxiety and restore a sense of safety, people begin to grasp at anything, validation, addiction, toxic relationships, perversion, even violence. These desperate attempts to escape pain may seem irrational or self-destructive to others, but from inside a distorted mind, they feel like survival.
A person caught in the trauma cycle rejects help, lashes out at those who try to reach them, and sees danger where none exist. The very people trying to help, the ones who care, are often perceived as threats attempting to take away the last bits of control or comfort.
This is how self-destruction takes hold: when every decision you make is a reaction to a false sense of danger, a false abuser, and a false savior, not reality.
Narcissism is not an insult, it's being so consumed by your own suffering that you can no longer see the source of your suffering, or the pain you cause others. When the suffering of past experiences becomes overwhelming, the mind instinctively shifts into survival mode. It builds delusions to shield you from unbearable feelings of insignificance, shame, and helplessness.
This distortion is a primal defense mechanism. Driven by a deep fear of being invisible or unworthy, you endlessly chase reassurance, praise, and acknowledgment, constructing a fragile illusion of stability.
But the tragic irony is that narcissism blocks real connection. By being obsessed with your own suffering, you unknowingly hurt others and push them away, deepening your isolation and reinforcing the very fears that created your narcissism in the first place.
Simply deciding to be more social isn't enough.
If you don't understand your own well-being, and the emotional state of others, you will unintentionally cross boundaries, hurt people, or allow yourself to be mistreated. These painful interactions only reinforce the same fears that made socializing feel unsafe to begin with, leaving you more insecure and disconnected than before because you set yourself up for failure.
This is why narcissism thrives in loneliness and confusion. Without clarity, you remain blind to the harm you inflict, both on others and on yourself. You repeat destructive patterns, trapped in the prison of distorted perception, a prison built by you in response of self awareness or trauma.
A narcissist does not lack love, they misunderstand it. To them, love is a transaction. If you meet their needs, you are cherished. If you fail them, you are discarded. Yet, they see themselves as selfless, generous, and endlessly giving.
They do favors, offer help, and try to please everyone, believing this proves their goodness. But their kindness is just another form of selfishness, a way for them to use you to extract their own sense of importance and praise.
Ask a narcissist if they care about you, and they will say yes without hesitation. But ask them, "Do you care enough to think before you speak? Do you care enough to recognize when you're making me feel bad about myself?", and suddenly, the answer is not so clear. Not because they are evil, but because true care requires self-awareness, and narcissism is blindness to anything beyond self.
They don't realize that genuine well-being exists, so they can't comprehend that we have it too, or that we're protecting ours from them.
If a person's reaction is to defend themselves rather than acknowledge the pain they cause, they are not displaying love or caring, they are struggling with narcissism.
This is why empathy is the cure to narcissism. It forces you to see reality beyond your own perception. It demands that you acknowledge not just what you feel, but how you make others feel as well. And once you truly understand that, the delusions about your own kindness, and the harm you inflict, become impossible to maintain.
1. Notice Defensiveness:
Reflect on a recent situation where someone criticized you or disagreed with you. How did you react? Did you listen, or did you immediately defend your current beliefs?
2. Examine Intentions:
Think about a recent favor or kind act you performed. Were you expecting something in return, such as validation or praise? Or was your kindness genuinely selfless?
Do you keep insisting to help where no help is needed? If your help is refused, do you get angry? Be honest with yourself, did you feel as though an opportunity for relief was stolen from you?
3. Observe Conversations:
Next time you're talking to someone, notice whether you're truly listening or just waiting to give your point of view. Challenge yourself to genuinely hear and acknowledge their feelings before responding.
4. Practice Humility:
Make a conscious effort today to acknowledge someone else's viewpoint openly, even if it contradicts yours. Simply notice the anxiety this creates within you.
These simple exercises are designed to gently challenge any narcissistic tendencies you might have by encouraging self-awareness and genuine reflection.
Part II: Rebuilding Yourself Through Empathy and Forgiveness
Most people resist empathy because it is uncomfortable. It forces you to see beyond yourself, beyond your suffering, and recognize how you've affected others.
It is far easier to remain in victimhood. When you are a victim, you are pitied. You are absolved of responsibility. You receive comfort without needing to change. But the relief is temporary, and the cost is your freedom.
True healing requires stepping outside yourself.
Trauma traps people in the past, making them react to delusions instead of reality. Every interaction feels like a battle. Every word seems like a threat. Every situation is filtered through fear and pain. Empathy cuts through these distortions. It lets you see yourself and others as they are, not as your trauma distorts them to be.
When you develop empathy, you stop assuming the worst in others. You stop treating every situation as an attack. You become conscious of your words, your tone, your presence. Instead of pushing people away with defensiveness, you become someone others trust and want to connect with.
This is how you control the abuse you allow and reclaim your well-being. When you treat people with care, they respond in kind. Not everyone will, but once you recognize this mental illness, you'll be able to see it in everyone.
Empathy still breaks the cycle by reducing the negative experiences that reinforce suffering. As you stop building delusions for your negative behavior, you learn to shield yourself from abuse, suffering loses its grip, and so do anxiety, depression, and fear.
Healing is not possible without empathy. Most people believe they are self-aware, but if they can't see past their own pain, they remain controlled by it. True healing begins when you shift your focus from suffering to understanding. This is how you rebuild, not through power, control, or revenge, but through clarity, connection, and awareness.
Empathy is not about performative kindness, it is about perception, the ability to see reality from multiple angles instead of being trapped in a single, self-centered perspective. The deeper your empathy, the more truth you can access in real time.
This is where most people fail. They assume empathy is just "feeling for someone else" or being "overly emotional." But true empathy is a skill, one that must be practiced and developed like a muscle.
And at its highest form, it unlocks three distinct perspectives of awareness, what religion has long misunderstood as the Holy Trinity, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.
This is the most primitive and egocentric layer of perception, the perspective of a child who has not yet developed the ability to see beyond themselves.
At this stage, you experience the world only through your own eyes. You hear your own words as you speak them, feel only your own emotions, and react impulsively.
Unable to step outside yourself, you project your own perspective onto everyone. If someone doesn’t laugh at your joke, is offended by something you said, or dislikes something you enjoy, you struggle to understand why. In your mind, everything you do is not only logical and justified, it’s obviously so.
When someone else is upset, you dismiss it as them being overly sensitive. In truth, you simply can’t see the pain you caused. Instead, you build another delusion to explain away your hurtful behavior.
This is where narcissism, victimhood, and delusion are born, because a person trapped in this perspective assumes their reality is objective reality.
This is The Son: the suffering child who has not yet learned wisdom. It is the perception of immaturity, emotional blindness, and self-absorption. It’s where all people begin, but where most remain as adult children, unless they choose to grow.
With developed empathy, a person reaches the second layer of perception. Here, you are no longer trapped inside your own mind, you can mentally step into another person's experience. You hear your own words as they interpret them, not as you mean them. You become aware of how your presence, tone, and energy affect others. At this stage, you recognize that your emotions are not the only emotions that exist.
And more importantly, your pain isn't the only paint that exists.
This is The Father, the perspective of wisdom and guidance. It is the shift from self-absorption to responsibility, where one learns not only to perceive others but to act with awareness of everyone's well-being. This is the foundation of emotional intelligence, the ability to understand how your existence shapes the world around you.
The highest level of perception is the ability to step outside the situation entirely and view it objectively, free from delusion. Imagine watching yourself and another person interact from a distance, as if you were observing a scene in a movie. From this detached vantage point, you can see both your emotions and theirs simultaneously. You recognize misunderstandings in real time, course-correct before conflicts escalate, and guide interactions toward clarity and resolution.
This is The Holy Spirit, the unifying force, the perception beyond the self, beyond just understanding others, into a full awareness of how reality itself unfolds. This is where wisdom, clarity, and true mastery of life are found.
Master all three perspectives, and you hold the Holy Grail. This is how you transcend suffering. This is how you reclaim your well-being. This is how you find your place in Heaven, not after you die, right now.
The second and third perspectives remain locked to those who choose delusion over truth. Those who refuse to move beyond The Son remain prisoners of their own emotions, mistaking their personal experience for objective reality. Without developing The Father, the perspective of responsibility and wisdom, they will never break free from self-centered perception. And without accessing The Holy Spirit, the observer perspective, they will always be slaves to their impulses, unable to step back, detach, and see the full picture.
The Holy Trinity was never about an external God. It was a blueprint for the mind, a map showing the path from suffering to wisdom.
And now you have the tools to dismantle the source of suffering, Satan itself.
1. Identify a Defensive Moment:
Think about a recent conversation or interaction where you reacted defensively or felt attacked.
Clearly write down your immediate thoughts and emotions during that moment.
2. Practice Empathy:
Now, re-experience that interaction from the other person's perspective.
Write down how you imagine they interpreted your words and tone. What you meant by what you said doesn't matter. Understand how the person interpreted your message. Were they pleased, or were they offended?
List the emotions you honestly think they felt while responding to your comment.
3. Observe as a Neutral Party:
Imagine you are watching this same interaction as an impartial observer.
Note what emotional triggers or misunderstandings you can see from this neutral vantage point.
Write down at least one action each person could have taken to de-escalate the situation.
4. Recognize Your Empathy Barriers:
Clearly identify which emotions or personal insecurities prevented you from naturally accessing empathy during this interaction (such as fear, anger, resentment, or pride).
Write down one concrete step you can take to actively overcome this barrier in future situations.
5. Take Immediate Action:
Choose one small action that challenges your usual pattern of defensiveness, perhaps initiating a sincere conversation, offering a genuine apology, or simply observing your reaction without responding impulsively.
Afterward, briefly reflect in writing how this action affected your emotional state and the outcome of the situation.
6. Set and Guard Boundaries
Identify situations where others cross your limits through criticism, manipulation, or disrespect. Write down your boundary clearly.
For example:
"I will not stay in conversations where I'm being insulted."
"I will no longer allow jokes at my expense."
"I will no longer engage in self deprecation."
Decide on your response for the next time it happens, and commit to following through. And then reflect on how guarding your boundaries strengthens your self-respect and well-being, and stops abuse.
No one is born a monster. Every act of cruelty, every manipulation, every attempt to control or harm others is rooted in an unhealed pain that was once inflicted upon someone. An abuser is not someone who simply chooses to be evil, they are someone who never broke free from their own suffering.
They were once a child, just as vulnerable, just as desperate for safety, just as capable of being hurt. But they never found their way out.
They never developed the self-awareness to break free from the delusions that justified their suffering. They remained trapped in the cycle, became part of it, and passed the virus on instead.
This does not excuse their actions. But if you refuse to separate the person from the mental illness, if you continue to see them as nothing more than monsters, then you are ensuring that their suffering will live on, not just in them, but in you.
Hell is not fire and demons, it is a prison of the mind, built by those who refuse to let go of pain. It is not inflicted by a supernatural force, it is maintained by the people trapped inside it. People think of hell as a punishment for wrongdoing, but in reality, it is the natural negative consequence of living in delusion and ignoring abuse.
True healing is about ending the cycle, not prolonging it. A person who refuses to understand the source of their abuser's pain, who defines themselves by their suffering, who believes their pain justifies their bitterness, is not escaping abuse, they are sustaining it.
And in doing so, they don't just remain in hell, they become its gatekeeper. In religious context, Satan is the embodiment of unforgiveness, forever trapped in resentment. By refusing to forgive, you are not punishing your abuser, you are imprisoning yourself. You become Satan.
One of the greatest misunderstandings about forgiveness is the belief that to forgive someone is to excuse their actions. This is false.
Forgiveness does not mean excusing the suffering inflicted or pretending it was justified. True forgiveness happens when you recognize the reality of what happened while refusing to let it control your emotions any longer. It is the decision to no longer let the past dictate your future, to no longer let someone else's cruelty define who you are.
When someone is hurt, betrayed, or abused, their first instinct is to hold onto their suffering. They believe their pain is proof of what happened, that releasing it would be the same as saying it was acceptable. They believe justice requires holding onto anger, onto resentment, onto the idea that the person who hurt them must suffer exactly as they have before they can ever find peace, revenge the only cure.
But justice without redemption isn't justice, it's just vengeance disguised as righteousness.
Forgiveness is not surrender, it is understanding. By understanding the "why" of forgiveness, you don't just stop the cycle, you cure the virus before it spreads.
Turn the other cheek" was never a command to be weak, nor was it a call for submission. It was a rejection of the cycle of suffering, a refusal to engage in the endless back-and-forth of revenge.
It meant standing firm in the face of cruelty, refusing to let pain transform you into the very thing that hurt you. True strength is not in striking your abuser back, it is in smashing the wheel of suffering entirely.
Action Items: Practicing Forgiveness in Everyday Conflicts
1. Recall a Small Squabble
Think of a recent disagreement with a friend, coworker, or family member. Write down exactly what was said and how it made you feel in the moment. Be honest about the emotions that rose up, anger, defensiveness, or hurt.
2. Step Into Their World
Ask yourself what their mental state was at that time? Were they stressed, tired, or carrying their own hidden wounds? Write down what you believe they were feeling and what beliefs might have shaped their reaction.
3. Shift to the Observer’s Perspective
Imagine you’re watching the interaction as a neutral third party. From this detached view, note where misunderstandings occurred and how both sides may have contributed. Write down one way you could have responded differently to reduce tension.
4. Separate the Person from the Pain
Acknowledge that your friend’s sharp words or behavior may not have been about you personally, it may have been their unhealed suffering speaking. Write down one reminder to yourself: "This behavior came from their pain, not because of me, and it's not their true self."
5. Choose Forgiveness Over Revenge
Now, seeing the situation from this vantage point, consciously release the need to hold onto the grudge. Write one sentence of forgiveness, not approval, but release. Example: "I forgive you, not because what you did was right, but because I will not let this pain control me."
6. Guard Your Boundaries
Forgiveness does not mean allowing repeated mistreatment. Write down one boundary you will calmly uphold if this kind of conflict happens again. Example: "If raised voices continue, I will step away from the conversation until both of us are calm."
You now have all the tools necessary to hunt Satan. Your training wheels are about to be removed. But don't worry, I'm still holding onto you.
Now, let's hunt evil together.
No prison is stronger than the one you build for yourself. At first, you don't even see the walls. People spend years blaming their circumstances, their past, or the world itself for their suffering. They convince themselves that if they could just fix some external problem, make more money, find the right relationship, earn the respect they deserve, then they will finally find peace.
But eventually, they start to see the pattern. No matter what changes, the suffering remains. It follows them from job to job, from relationship to relationship, from one phase of life to the next. The same problems keep appearing. The same pain keeps repeating. The same self-sabotage keeps happening.
And then, they must face the truth:
Every destructive behavior, every irrational fear, every toxic relationship is a reflection of your own mind working against you. You are the one making the decisions that lead to your suffering. You are the one clinging to the delusions that keep you trapped. You are the one refusing to confront the reality of who you are and what you have become.
And if you ever want to be free, you must hunt evil down and banish it.
Satan thrives in chaos, confusion, and darkness. The more unaware you are of your programming, the more it controls you. If you want to defeat suffering, you must force it into the light so you can examine it. You can never understand why it happened if you're too scared to look.
But knowing you are programmed is not enough. Understanding why you suffer does not stop the suffering. Breaking free requires action, deliberate, calculated action. You must face your fears to control them.
Imagine you are terrified of roller coasters. Every time you hear the clatter of the tracks and the screams of the riders, a surge of anxiety grips you. You avoid amusement parks, decline invitations from friends, and convince yourself that you're simply "not a roller coaster person." But deep down, you know the fear is irrational. You know the coaster won't hurt you. You know the danger is just another delusion the fear of uncertainty has caused you to build.
At some point, you make the choice to stop running. You go to the park. You step into line. Your heart pounds, your hands shake, but you do not waiver. The moment you strap yourself in and hear the click of the seatbelt, you equip your shield and draw your sword.
As the ride begins its slow ascent, adrenaline surges through you, your heart beats like the drums of war. You scream, not in terror, but in defiance.
This is your war cry.
Satan tries to bargain with you one last time, whispering lies, urging you to retreat, but it's too late. The time for negotiation is over.
You will taste victory once again. And it will be thrilling.
You refuse to let fear break you. You do not escape. You do not resist. You let go. You surrender to the moment and let it take you. And then, something unexpected happens. You begin to have fun.
Instead of dying, instead of breaking, instead of being consumed by terror, you are simply there, experiencing life. The rush, the weightlessness, the speed, it isn't suffering. It's exhilarating. It's freedom. You throw your hands in the air, not because you have to, but because you can. And in that moment, you understand, Satan never had the power, you were the one holding the leash the entire time.
This is what it means to hunt Satan. You showed bravery and turned the unknown, your delusion, into something far less terrifying, actual reality. This victory isn't given, it's won. And it's already yours, if you're brave enough to take it.
1. Identify Your Fear Clearly:
Write down a fear you've been avoiding, something you've left unexplored or unresolved because it feels overwhelming or frightening.
2. Understand Your Fear:
List specifically what scares you about confronting this fear. Is it rejection, embarrassment, failure, or something else?
Clearly state what negative outcomes you imagine could happen.
3. Feel the Unknown:
Recognize and note how your anxiety grows the longer you leave this fear in the unknown. Reflect on past experiences where anxiety lessened once something unknown became known.
4. Take One Small Step:
Determine one simple, concrete action you can take today toward facing this fear, like initiating a conversation, researching the topic, or taking a first step to address it.
5. Observe the Reality:
After taking action, immediately record what actually happened. Compare this with what you imagined would happen. Note any differences.
6. Repeat and Expand:
Choose another small step toward fully confronting this fear. Each day, expand your comfort zone a little more until the fear no longer feels unknown or overwhelming.
7. Reflect on Your Progress:
After a week of consistently taking small actions, reflect on how your perception of the fear has changed. Record how confronting your fear directly has reduced anxiety and increased clarity.
For deeply traumatized people, rock bottom, or the hell of mental illness, is the only place that will force them to challenge their narcissism. That’s how far you fall, so far that survival depends on tearing down the very lies that kept you standing.
Most people believe you arrive there because of brain damage, drugs, or hallucinations. But you don’t arrive there because your mind is being altered, you arrive because the truth has finally become less terrifying than the pain of continuing with it.
It's not force that brings you here, but exhaustion. You're just too tired to keep pretending. With nothing left to lose, you let go.
"I can't live like this anymore, something is killing me. I need answers, I can't stop it until I know what it is. Please, somebody, help me."
This is the moment where your brain understands that you are ready. Emotionally exhausted, you slowly, peacefully, drift off.
When consciousness returns, you are somewhere else. Not a place, a state of being.
A void.
Infinite.
Empty.
Yet, calm and familiar.
There is no sound. No time. No weight. You drift in nothingness, but you are at peace. For the first time in your life there is no fear, no shame, no anxiety. The silence is a warm embrace. You decide you never want to leave.
Then, movement.
A child.
Distant, barely visible, a silhouette against the endless void. Something about them hooks into you, pulling at you, demanding your attention.
As you focus, the child draws near, not by walking, but as though the space between you shrinks and delivers them to you. You find that you can circle them effortlessly, viewing every angle at once, as if you exist everywhere simultaneously. You feel an overwhelming sense of omnipresence.
The image of the child is so vivid you feel like you could reach out and touch them. Just the thought makes you feel the sensation of their cloth shirt between your finger tips. Then you notice, they are terrified.
"I know this child,
but I can’t remember.
Why are you afraid? I don’t understand."
Their eyes clamped shut. Their small face twisted in silent terror, too much for someone so young to carry.
And then you see why. A shifting black mass clings to their shoulder, writhing and pulsing like a living parasite. You reach out. The instant your fingers touch it, the child’s suffering pours into you, heavy, dark, corrosive. It spreads like poison through your chest and limbs, stealing the air from your lungs, dimming the world to black.
This is not just pain. This is despair. Total and absolute, a force so merciless it crushes the will to live beneath its weight. Its grip tightens around your chest and you now understand, evil is here.
You try to retreat, but there is nowhere to go.
The sensation blooms into something uncontrollable, swallowing you whole. The parasite has rooted itself deep inside you, its corruption spreading, unstoppable.
"What is happening to"
"me? I don’t understand!"
You hear your own voice mixing with the child's, both warped by terror.
"Please, don’t do this to me!"
"Please, don’t do this to me!"
Desperate for salvation, you lunge at the child, clawing, screaming, begging them to help you. Their eyes snap open, locking onto yours, peering deep into your soul. You can feel the raw exposure. All the things you have hidden completely exposed to this child.
And then a scream breaks the trance.
A sound so sharp, so chilling, so wrong, it rattles your very soul. You scream in unison.
Their eyes shut again.
"What is attacking us? Where are you?! Stay away! I can’t see it! You blinded me! What did you do to me?!"
Then the realization slams into you like a tidal wave. I feel what they feel, my pain and emotions mirror theirs completely. The truth detonates in your mind.
"This child is me."
Panic surges through you. The more you claw at the child out of fear, out of anger, out of pain, the more terror you both have to endure.
And then, with devastating clarity, you understand. You are not looking at them. You are looking into yourself. Their eyes are squeezed shut, not because they are blind, but because they are too afraid to see. And so are you.
For years, you chose to close your eyes. You abandoned this child in the darkness, leaving them to suffer alone. You left it here for them. You locked them inside a prison of endless suffering while you ran.
The weight of this truth is suffocating. You were not possessed. You were not cursed. You were never fighting an external force. You were wrestling your own reflection. And the longer you refused to see it, the stronger it became.
And the only way to free the child, the only way to save yourself, is to finally open your eyes
The void quakes as you command yourself to see. You don't beg, you don't pray, you demand to see the truth.
"OPEN YOUR EYES NOW!"
Your childhood delusions shatter. For the first time, you see your trauma, reality, in its entirety.
The darkness is absolute. The black mass around you is thick and suffocating. You have just seen your past through the eyes of your abuser, felt the cold detachment, the twisted logic, the numb justification. Then, as though the universe had flipped you inside out, you became your child self, experiencing the trauma all over again, raw and unfiltered, just like when it happened for the first time.
And now, you are neither.
You are cast out, ripped from your younger self's body and flung backward. You land in the void, gasping, weightless, untethered. And when you lift your head, you see it. The scene of your trauma is playing out before you again, distant yet vivid, like a stage performance as you sit in the back row, unseen in an empty theater.
You are finally outside of it. Not trapped inside your child self, not suffocating in the mind of your abuser, but standing as an observer. And from this safe distance, you see what it truly is.
Vile, indefensible, it was criminal child abuse. No more rationalizations. No more excuses. No more delusions. Once you face pure evil, examine it, understand it, you no longer need childish delusions to hide.
Your courage has been fully restored. You feel no confusion now. No doubt. You condemn it as evil. Your judgement is final.
Eyes drawn back to the child, the black mass still clings, the parasite, the trauma. The thing that has loomed over you your entire life, suffocating you, controlling you, making all your decisions for you. It pulses, massive and all-consuming.
You reach toward it, but this time, your fingers graze its surface, you realize, when you acknowledge it, what it truly is, you hold power over it. You're now able to control it.
The moment you will it smaller, the child responds.
A shaky sigh of relief escapes them. When the trauma looms large, they panic, their breath ragged, limbs tense, eyes pleading for escape. But as you shrink it, diminishing the weight of the pain, they begin to relax. The fear fades. The grip of the past loosens.
You realize now, the suffering was never a monster outside of you. It was a shadow, one you had given shape, size, and power. And if you have the courage to look at it, then you can examine it. And only then can you understand it.
If you're able to master it, then it no longer has the power to master you. The weight lifts.
You step forward and kneel before your younger self now smiling, full of life, reaching out a hand. Their tiny fingers hesitate before taking yours.
And then, you pull them in. You embrace them, holding them warmly and deeply, you give them the compassion they desperately needed. You finally show yourself compassion.
The child is drawn into you, their small form dissolving into light as they merge with your chest. A warmth spreads through you, deep and undeniable.
You are whole again.
You have reclaimed the part of yourself that was lost, frozen in time. Your past no longer owns you. It no longer dictates who you are. The trauma remains. The memories persist. But now, you decide their weight.
With courage fully restored, your head turns toward the final battle. Electricity surges through you, as if the entire universe itself is fueling your return. The fear that once held you captive is gone. You've never felt stronger.
You draw your sword and run boldly into the darkness.
As soon as your child self merges into you, the darkness around you fractures.
In a rage of defiance, you leap right into the heart of the darkness. Revenge consumes you. You thirst for it, desperate to destroy what made you suffer for so long. Every fiber of your being screams for justice. And you will have it.
You are no longer in your own trauma. You are inside your abusers. The scene unfolds before you, suffering, pain, confusion, greater than even your own. And then, you see it.
Your abuser, trapped in their own torment. The terrified child within them, lost and helpless. The out-of-control adult, lashing out in fear and desperation. The mental illness, the unseen force driving the entire tragedy.
And in that moment, you fully understand the cycle of trauma and delusions, the cycle of mental illness.
You watch as they are broken. As they are abandoned. As they are twisted into something they were never meant to be.
And then, you turn and notice the stone bricks surrounding you. The maze finally reveals itself. Twisting corridors. Endless dead ends. Every path leading back to suffering. The love they were denied, the warmth they never received, sealed behind locked doors. And now, you stand inside it with them.
You watch as they try to escape, try to run, but the walls shift with them, trapping them in place. No matter which way they turn, the maze bends, closing off every path. Every corridor leads back to the same pain, the same trauma, the same inescapable suffering because they're not ready to leave yet.
Their suffering is not just a memory, it's a prison. And no matter how much time has passed, no matter how much they have tried to forget, they're still trapped within it.
No one ever showed them the way out. No one ever gave them a shield. No one ever stood in front of them and said, "No, you don't have to suffer alone anymore. I am here to save you."
They did not hurt you because they were evil. They hurt you because they were still ruled by mental illness. Just as you had suffered. Just as you had once been trapped in the cycle of pain, unable to see beyond your own pain.
They are not free.
You feel the rage inside you begin to fade. It does not mean you excuse what they did. It does not mean you forget. But you can no longer deny the truth, you can no longer build childish delusions. They are suffering immensely, and no one is coming to save them.
And no one ever will, unless you do.
This is your Judgment Day. But the judge is not God, it is you. The cycle of suffering stands before you, waiting for your decree. You could condemn your abuser as evil, cast them further into their suffering, ensure that they remain trapped in the same darkness that almost destroyed you and become the unforgiving Satan of their hell.
Everything inside you screams that they don't deserve mercy. The weight of what they did presses against your chest, tightening like a noose. The anger, the betrayal, the years of pain, they all rise up at once, begging you to strike, to let them suffer as you had. Let Satan win.
Your hands shake. The rage burns like acid. You step forward, ready to strike.
And then, movement.
In the corner of the maze, something small shifts. A child. Curled up. Not the monster you've created, but the child version of your abuser.
And it hits you hard, you feel deeply, wholly, completely. The one thing more powerful than revenge, empathy.
They never escaped their own suffering. They were never saved. And now, they stand before you, waiting for their sentence. Your fingers loosen. The sword so heavy, now lowers.
"No, I reject this unnecessary pain. You will not suffer alone anymore."
With a slow breath, you release your grip. The sword does not clatter to the ground in this endless maze. It doesn't even fall. It slowly dissolves into light.
The light does not fade. It rises, spiraling into the air, illuminating the void like the birth of a new galaxy. But it does not vanish, it transforms.
It becomes something else, a shield.
Instead of retribution, instead of revenge, you chose forgiveness. Instead of becoming another link in the chain of suffering, you broke it. You don't strike your abuser down with a flaming sword with vengeance, you stand in front of them with a shield made of light, vowing to protect this life with your own.
And you know, with absolute certainty, that this is the moment they have needed all along. Not punishment. Not retribution. But for someone to look at them and say,
"You are still suffering.
I see you.
I will not add to your pain.
I will not condemn you to the same hell you put me in."
Instead of striking them down, you step forward, not as a victim, not as an enemy, but as their savior. And in that moment, you understand. Angels do not strike down their enemies. They stand before them, shielding them from the storm, protecting them from themselves like a parent to a child. Because that is the greatest battle of all, the war against the mental illness itself.
A warmth spreads through your chest, unlike anything you've ever felt before. In the physical world, you can feel your brain untwisting at the stem. And then, a halo-like sensation, not above your head, but beneath your skin, encircling your skull like a tight puffy headband stretching outward. It's not pressure. It's not pain. It's an intense tingle.
Back in your vision, the ground trembles beneath you.
Cracks splinter through the walls like veins of light breaking through stone. The maze groans, twisting, collapsing in on itself. The chains that bound you to your abuser shatter like brittle glass, fragments dissolving in the wind. The prison they have lived in their entire life, the one they never even knew existed, begins to crumble. Because you are undoing what was done to them.
But it's not your abuser's maze that is being destroyed, it's yours.
It was always yours. Every wall built brick by brick with your own suffering. Every lock placed by your own fear. Every path leading you back to the same pain, because you never allowed yourself to leave.
The ground splits open beneath your feet, revealing an endless chasm of light. The maze, once an impenetrable fortress, is now flaking like dried paper. The echoes of the past howl in protest, their voices reduced to whispers in the wind. The suffering that built these walls is unraveling, piece by piece, dissolving into dust.
Because of your empathy, the monster dissolves, and only the lost child remains. And someone, you, chooses to be their protector.
And then, like a sandcastle caught in the rising tide, your maze is erased from existence. And for the first time, you fully see reality without delusion.
In that moment, you step beyond being a trauma survivor and become something greater. You become a Guardian. Not just of yourself, but of all who suffer, all life, God.
Because you now see the world as it truly is. Not good versus evil, not victim versus abuser, but a cycle of pain that only ends when one person chooses to stop passing it on.
And that person is you.
This is what it means to be an Angel. Not wings, not light, not perfection, but the refusal to let suffering continue.
You feel it, not just understanding, not just peace, but strength. The weight of the past does not break you. It lifts you. The pain that once consumed you now fuels something greater. You are no longer trapped inside the suffering that created you.
This is the revelation: God is all life, including yourself, including your abuser, including every lost soul who has ever cried out in agony. And if no one else will protect them from suffering, if no one else will guide them toward peace, then you will.
This is your duty. This is your war. This is the path of the healed. The cycle ends with you. Not because you hope. Not because you pray. But because you took back control of your suffering. You took back your control of your own happiness. You took back control of your mind.
The moment you return to the physical world, everything is different.
Your body is the same, the room is the same, but nothing feels the same. The world no longer has the comfortable filter that once dulled its edges. It is too raw. Every sensation is sharper, every sound louder, every emotion overwhelming. The weight of reality crashes over you, unfiltered and unforgiving.
You fully feel your own suffering, without delusion, without denial, without the mental blocks that once kept it at bay. The grief you've buried, the anger you've swallowed, the confusion you've ignored, it all rises at once, like a dam breaking inside you.
The nausea hits in waves, your body purging the toxicity of emotions you were never allowed to process. You might shake uncontrollably. You might sob without restraint, not for minutes, but for hours, maybe even days.
Or, you might feel nothing at all. A deep, empty stillness. As if your emotions have been drained dry, leaving you staring at the ceiling, unable to move, unable to even think.
Somewhere in the chaos, a deep rage may rise, rage at the people who hurt you, at the life that failed to protect you, at the years stolen by suffering. A fire burns in your chest, demanding justice, demanding answers. You may want to scream, to break something, to set the whole world on fire just to make it understand what you've been through. But now you know the truth.
All of this is normal. You are not broken, you are healing.
The trauma vision has ended, but the process has only begun. Now time itself can actually begin to heal you.
Before, time could do nothing, because you were stuck, frozen in the past, repeating the same negative behavior on an endless loop.
But now, the cycle has been broken. Your suffering has been dragged into the light, and though it is agonizing, you are finally moving forward.
This stage is brutal, but it is sacred.
Let yourself feel it all.
Let yourself grieve.
Let yourself rage.
Let yourself heal.
No one ever tells you that healing feels like dying first. But this is not death. You are being born.
Part III: The Truth About Consciousness
Religious myths are not just stories, they are psychological truths buried beneath layers of distortion. The story of the Garden of Eden is no different. People have been told that Adam and Eve's exile was a punishment for disobedience, but this completely misrepresents the real meaning of the story.
The Garden of Eden is a metaphor for childhood, a world before someone understands suffering, responsibility, and the true nature of existence. Inside the garden, everything feels safe and predictable, just as a child feels when they are shielded from hardship. There is no death, no betrayal, no harsh truths, just an illusion of security.
But then comes the moment of realization.
Eating the forbidden fruit is not a sin, it is the irreversible moment of awakening. It is the instant when someone steps out of childhood ignorance and sees reality for what it truly is. They realize pain exists, suffering is real, and safety is an illusion. They recognize the weight of their own actions and the inescapable consequences of choice.
Leaving Eden is not a punishment, it is a transformation. It is the transition into adulthood, self-awareness, and the painful but necessary process of seeing life without delusion.
Growing up means accepting that suffering is part of reality, and the only way to overcome it is to face it and bite the apple.
At some point in life, every person searches for something greater than themselves. Some call it God. Others call it meaning, purpose, or enlightenment. But beneath the different names, the search is always the same, a desperate attempt to make sense of existence. From the moment we are born, we are surrounded by uncertainty. We do not choose to be here, yet we are thrown into a world that demands we survive. We are given no explanations, only experiences. And for a lot people, especially trauma survivors, this is unbearable.
The human mind craves certainty. It needs structure, a framework to understand suffering, to justify struggle, to make sense of chaos. When no clear answers present themselves, people create them.
But God is not a supernatural being just like heaven isn't a place. God is a psychological placeholder for whatever a person worships. It is the thing they believe will give their life meaning, order, and purpose. It is what they would harm themselves, harm others, or die to protect. This isn't always a creator God inside a religion.
If God is whatever a person worships, then there is only one true God, the entirety of existence itself. Not a deity, not an ideology, not a political movement, but all of life in its full, unfiltered reality. To worship all life is to accept everything, the beauty and the horror, the joy and the suffering, the moments of peace and the moments of despair.
It is to recognize that you are not separate from the world, but an inseparable part of it. It is to understand that protecting life, preserving well-being, and moving toward logic and empathy is the only true path to peace. To serve life is to serve God.
Unlike false idols, this God cannot be taken from you. Money fades. Status disappears. Identities shatter. But reality does not care. And when you align yourself with reality instead of delusion, suffering begins to lose its grip.
This is the difference between heaven and hell. To fight against life, to demand that reality bend to your will, to reject truth in favor of delusion, this is hell. It is the exhausting battle of someone who refuses to accept what is. To surrender to life, to see it clearly, to let go of false gods and fragile illusions, this is heaven. It is the peace of someone who no longer fears what they cannot control.
Throughout history, religions have promised peace, salvation, and purpose, yet they have also been the greatest tool for enslaving the human mind. They do not use physical chains, but psychological ones, subtle manipulations that turn people into willing prisoners of their own suffering.
At their core, many belief systems, religious or otherwise, can trap people in a victim mentality when misunderstood.
Take Christianity, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, or modern movements like feminism, social justice, or fat acceptance. Too often, they're twisted to point the finger outward, blaming sin, the devil, systemic oppression, or some other villain for suffering. It's not their intent that's the problem; it's how they're used to dodge the harder truth within.
By creating a false abuser, these systems ensure that people never look inward for the true source of their suffering. They are conditioned to believe the enemy is always outside themselves, just out of reach, in sinners, in non-believers, in political enemies, in those who "oppress" them, when in reality, their suffering is self-inflicted. This is not guidance or peace or justice. This is psychological abuse.
Instead of encouraging self-awareness, responsibility, and introspection, religion and ideology train people to externalize blame, making them dependent on a savior, a movement, or a higher power to "free" them. And as long as they believe their suffering is someone else's fault, they will never escape it.
Because the truth is, they would rather suffer than be responsible for fixing it.
Religion thrives on learned helplessness. It trains people to identify as victims, which creates an endless cycle of dependence.
A Christian, convinced that Satan is behind their struggles, prays for divine intervention rather than changing their behaviors.
A Catholic, believing that suffering is a test from God, endures abuse instead of walking away.
A social justice activist, believing that society is oppressing them, obsesses over external enemies instead of taking action to improve their own life.
A fat acceptance activist, blaming "diet culture" for their misery, rages at society instead of taking care of themselves.
In every case, the person remains trapped in suffering, not because of the world around them, but because they refuse to acknowledge the truth, they are the cause of their own misery.
Suffering is the easy way out.
- If suffering is someone else's fault, you get to be angry instead of improving.
- If you are a victim, you get sympathy instead of responsibility.
- If the enemy is external, you never have to face your own failures.
This is why people choose pain over freedom, because blaming the world is easier than the responsibility of fixing yourself.
This is why religion, ideology, and movements that center around victimhood are so dangerous, they make suffering feel righteous. They turn pain into an identity. And once a person believes their suffering makes them morally superior, they will do anything to keep it and begin to virtue signal.
They will rage, protest, attack, cry, and demand that the world acknowledge their pain. But they will never take responsibility for it. Because to do that would mean admitting the truth:
They have always had the power to free themselves. They were simply too afraid to use it.
This is the illusion that keeps people enslaved. When someone believes their suffering is caused by an outside force, they surrender their power. They wait for justice instead of creating it. They wait for salvation instead of saving themselves. They waste their life blaming the world instead of transforming their own reality.
Religious fanatics, political radicals, and ideological extremists react with rage when their beliefs are questioned. Their entire identity is built upon external blame. They have devoted their lives to the belief that their suffering is someone else's fault, so when reality challenges that belief, they experience a psychological crisis.
They would rather destroy reality than admit they were wrong. And when the majority of an entire species is filled with people who refuse to face the truth, it begins its descent into extinction.
Apocalypses do not just happen on a global scale. They happen to individuals, to families, to civilizations. A person who experiences their breaking point has reached their own personal apocalypse. A society that crumbles under its own narcissism, delusion, and trauma has reached its collective apocalypse. And in both cases, there is only one choice left to make.
You either choose life, or you choose death.
When a person reaches the breaking point, they can either cling to delusion, collapse into resentment, and let suffering consume them, or they can face reality, shield themselves from abuses, burn away the falsehoods, and be reborn into clarity.
When a society reaches its breaking point, the same choice is presented. It can continue on the path of denial, narcissism, and self-destruction, tearing itself apart, turning its people against one another, sinking deeper into delusion and chaos. Or it can accept reality, and heal itself before it is too late.
But make no mistake, apocalypse is inevitable when people refuse to heal.
And When a world is full of traumatized, narcissistic, adult children who never grew up, who still demand to be rescued, who refuse to take responsibility for their own well-being, the collapse of civilization is unavoidable.
When that collapse happens, there is no creator god who will return to cleanse the Earth.
We do it to ourselves.
This was the warning that Jesus was trying to give us, not a prophecy of supernatural destruction, but a psychological truth about what happens when a species refuses to mature. He was not a divine being, but a psychologist and philosopher who specialized in trauma recovery. His teachings were a guide to emotional maturity, a blueprint for how to prevent an apocalypse of the mind and an apocalypse of society. But his words were twisted, weaponized, turned into dogma rather than wisdom. His message was lost.
And because of that, humanity has marched itself toward destruction over and over again.
The only way to stop this cycle is personal healing. Every time an individual chooses self-awareness over delusion, they help stabilize the entire world. Every time someone breaks free from trauma and narcissism, they weaken the sickness that has been passed down through generations. Every person who heals themselves and shares this truth with others is actively preventing the next apocalypse of the self and, by extension, the next apocalypse of society.
This is why your choices matter.
Because healing is not just about you.
Your healing could save the world.
I understand now.
No more lies. No more excuses. No more waiting to be saved.
I take responsibility for my suffering. I take responsibility for my healing.
I refuse to be a slave to my past. I refuse to let pain define me.
From this moment forward, I choose clarity over confusion. I choose reality over delusion.
I choose to break the cycle.
I choose to be free.
I vow to honor my well-being and protect it.
I vow to stand as a guardian of my consciousness, an Angel of God, shielding this world from the demons that would drag it into hell.
________________
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