hey guis, i wanna say my lil story: I was born into a poor family with four siblings. My father was always busy trying to make money, while my mother was rarely home (she had intimate relationships with other men), so the five of us had to stay alone in a house without windows, doors, or beds. We had only one mattress for all of us and didn’t have food every day. We had to beg to get some money, but if we brought money home, my mother would use it for alcohol and cigarettes. We had no clothes and often walked around almost naked! We were thrown out of the house we lived in and went to a man who had an intimate relationship with my mother! One night, my mother and that man were drunk and started arguing, and he chased us out with a metal bar, telling us, “Get out of the house, because if I catch you, I’ll kill you!” We slept outside that night, without clothes, in winter, with only a blanket around us, and I wondered: “Why must I be alone?” (because I felt very lonely), and the days passed until at the age of 4, I ended up in an orphanage! In the first orphanage, the biggest and strictest one, there was a “chief.” Because I was one of the youngest, I was often beaten, and I thought it was normal, so I started doing such things myself: stealing, smoking, drinking, fighting, and hitting younger kids for no reason. After leaving that orphanage at 14, I ended up in a Christian orphanage, where I heard about God and that Jesus is God. And that God is love, and so on. When I heard that, I asked, “If God is love, why did He let a 3-year-old child stay in the cold without food, and so on?” But, of course, I didn’t get an answer, so I said, “God doesn’t exist.” At 18, I left the orphanage with the thought: “Christians are hypocrites and liars.” Time passed, and I met a girl who directed my gaze towards Him (God), but it wasn’t clear, and I wanted to know more. Last year, I had many strange dreams, saw demons near my bed, often woke up and couldn’t sleep, talked to the demons, and was very scared. My mother (the people I stayed with here in the Netherlands) told me, “You need to go to therapy” because I wasn’t eating, wasn’t sleeping, and at work, I would drive nails into my hands due to exhaustion.