By the Author / Source: abuaram.site
For many years during my early childhood and adolescence, I suffered from intense remorse and obsessive, compulsive thoughts of guilt. I felt a duty to avenge my mother, who was stabbed before my eyes with a large knife when I was only eight years old. I couldn’t protect her; instead, I wept helplessly, paralyzed with fear for her life. Nor could I protect myself and my siblings from the many terrible things that kept happening. I lived largely in a state of revenge-driven dissociation and obsessive preparation, plagued by guilt. Driven by fear and suspicion, I began carrying bladed weapons whenever I left the house. One day, the Israeli Defense Forces stopped the public vehicle I was in alongside other passengers, and the knife slipped from my hand onto the floor. Suspicious, they interrogated everyone for a long time to determine who was carrying it. I denied it was mine, and eventually, after a lengthy investigation, they allowed me to return home, assuming there had been a security incident on site.
As I grew older and gained greater awareness and understanding, I began to realize that I was a victim—that none of it was my fault. I was everyone’s victim simply because I was a small child. Nothing was my responsibility, and I shouldn’t have felt guilty for failing to protect my mother and siblings; that was only natural for a child. Yet, I had spent years believing I was somehow to blame, harboring deep guilt, and living through an endless drama played out in my imagination.
I was forced to relinquish many of my hyper-vigilant habits and my tendency to arm myself, coming to accept that the days ahead could be peaceful. I realized I was living inside a self-created narrative of fear and paranoia that bore no resemblance to reality, and that I needed to view the world through a different lens—one where danger was not lurking around every corner.
I possess the background profile of a criminal or a serial killer; many criminals and serial killers have led lives that parallel parts of mine. Yet, I was never that sick person walking blindly into the dark. I was conscious, vigilant, and guided by a mentor. I am not a criminal programmed to descend into that darkness. Even though there are sadistic facets tied to my condition, and I have endured countless turbulent situations throughout my life, my humane and conscious self has consistently refrained from committing evil or harming others. It has always maintained control, keeping me essentially innocent, peaceful, deeply humane, and acutely aware.
There is a monster within—a deeply dark entity that feels like the dominion of Satan himself, perhaps Iblis, because the evil there feels distinct and known. A genuine monster resides inside me: brutal, malevolent, sick, and extraordinarily dangerous. I often struggle to discern where it ends and where I begin. I could barely grasp my true self, which I always knew to be innocent and quiet, torn between who I am and who this monster is. I believe I was not born with a blank slate, but with an ancient, deeply rooted soul that manifested in my body and mind, carving its path alongside me. I was not an empty child; I was programmed with this soul. At times, I can no longer bridge these two identities to simply be myself. I can be exceptionally dark at times, yet at others, I am just an innocent child trembling and weeping at the slightest cruelty. I may lash out at those who hurt me, making me entirely unpredictable and incomprehensible. You might be shocked by the emergence of traits within me that contradict any initial assessment of my character. In moments when I feel oppressed or harmed, that monster manifests alongside me.
Yet ultimately, there is a spiritual programming embedded within me from realms preceding my own. I was never empty, nor was I ever truly alone. To this day, I am surrounded by a collective of spirits in every facet of my life. This collective has evolved intellectually and adopted various approaches to guide my growth in this lifetime. It has revealed itself with profound clarity. It no longer operates through an empty, unconscious, uncomprehending child; today, it acts through a human being anchored in superior intellect and consciousness—someone not easily accessed or controlled. Those who harmed me, my mother, and my siblings were relatives, alongside many others who crossed my path. I navigated life alone, wandering without a real human guardian, reliant solely on this collective and the mentor—the spirits. I endured severe trauma throughout my childhood and adult life at the hands of many people, but every experience served a purpose: shaping my character, influencing me, and redirecting my trajectory. In my early years, I lacked the awareness to save myself. I spent much of my life lost and confused, failing at every turn to do what was right. But now I have matured, and everything, of course, is different.
