Maybe give it one last chance. Thats what I'm doing... But this time it's my last chance. Heres a small look into my past: I grew up in a childhood that sucked. From poverty (didn't even get to eat at school)to assholes and abuse. Born to a family that bitched about divorce every day. I saw it all. Got sexually abused at 7 at school (some boy made me unzip and groped me) but never told anyone because of shame. Felt like I was gonna go to hell because it was my fault for 6 years. Tried to bury it for the next few years. Now that I'm 18 i realized that shit happens sometimes. But some shit doesn't happen sometimes. See, when the family could afford a smartphone and a laptop six years earlier it became my drug. My solace. I was an addict. After several years, then one day my sis downloaded some ebooks on my phone. I fucking loved to read. By the time i was finished with the percy jackson series. My eyes started snapping. I was too poor at that time to realise that you had e-ink readers for that stuff so that it goes easy on the eyes. But no. I'm losing my eyesight. I cant look at a screen without experiencing pain. My eyes are permanently damaged. They are filled with black threads called floaters. And i experience stuff I cant even explain in words. In short im fucked. My addiction led to more and more damage. Soon after this happened some vid from YT cropped up in my feed. I won't go specific so i dont fuck someone over but it had instructions for something that seemed apparently fiction. One of the steps was so easy i did it just to prove it was bullshit. Then shit happened again. I started seeing stuff I can explain but i won't. And yes it was supernatural. Science cannot explain it trust me. Because i promised that I would never even come near that again and if someone happened to know about it and replied. Well. no. Cant let that happen. It was enough to make me shiver in fear. Felt like i was gonna have a heart attack every time it happened. I couldn't sleep for a year. Had to keep the light on so I don't see the dark when it got worse... My relationship with god was a love, hate one. I hated him for my rough childhood but i did connect with him in prayer. When i was like 14 or 15 i stopped making duas because he didn't accept them apparently. If you're wondering, it was curing my acne and facial scarring. Every teenager feels pride in how he looks and i felt that i never had anything and what was given was taken away. So yeah. No more duas from that point. I kept praying but abandoned that too later because of education( gradually stopped caring). Had to attend evening classes. I was a poor kid in a rich school. And had to take extra tuition like the others. Apparently thats how schools in this piece of shit called Pakistan works. So all of this happened after i stopped praying. So anyways. I overcame this fear of seeing those things (and still see them presently btw) but the third hammer was that i soon started to eat while on my smartphone and some food went down the wrong pipe. I was stupid AF coughed all day trying to get it out And i developed dysphagia. Long story short. I cant swallow or drink properly. I fear having to eat as it goes into the wrong pipe. Lived for four months starving. Was going crazy. Losing it. I guess i didn't want to go to hell so i had been meaning to pray for some time. In the winters we don't have warm water so i didn't start then. My hands got burnt just for washing them after using the washroom. Wudu would have fucked me over. So i decided on this very summer to start again :my pain slowly made me realize i wasn't in control. I was being driven. Spent all day on the phone just wasn't myself. So it naturally occured to me what if i was under a system designed by evil powers that islam mentions. Maybe i was just not admitting it. Maybe I was in foolish denial. So i promised myself that this Ramadan i would pray five times a day. If i couldn't i was surely not in control. My exams were in Ramadan (a levels) and i was so not in control i hadn't studied a bit for them and was seriously going crazy. I was so desperate to get back in control i vowed to rather die than skip a single prayer . yeah. Ik. I really was that desperate even if i knew i was lying i meant it. So when Ramadan reached there was a change of heart. To explain it here is some info on my childhood. My childhood self was a really sweet personality. He was the kind of guy to write in a paper and give it to mom saying "its not good to get angry" when she bitched about dad. He was the kind of child who used to cry whenever a friend online left a group and could no longer be traced. He even tried typing their usernames and adding gmail dot com in the end to try and email them to come back. He even cried when he finished the classes of a teacher because he would never see him again. Lol he even made dua to Allah to make sure he gets to meet every single person he met again in the after life if not here in this world. Maybe his heart was why in one dream when i was under ten years old i saw the prophet. I remember looking out of a window and seeing someone walk the street. Idk how but i knew who he was. I pulled my head back inside and yelled in my language " mama, the prophet pbuh is coming hide that picture from the wall" immediately i saw his face and he said in hindi " tum kyun mujh se darte ho" translating to " why do you fear me" and i was awake just didn't remember what he looked like. My childhood was strange too. Don't laugh but i used to dream about pretty women that were bare long before i knew what sex was at like age 8 or 9. And when i was thirteen i used to hear whispers in the form of thoughts that cussed at the prophets, his companions and even god whenever i read about them in school (My dad provided the vocab). I used to say lalalala to hide the voice. That happened when i moved on about the sexual abuse incident. So in short i thought i was going to get fucked over by god in the afterlife my entire childhood. To me a few months back. My childhood self (called Abdullah by the family )was an angel to me and he got fucked over by the world. I wasn't gonna forgive the world for what it made me. Rn I don't even have the fraction of the heart he had. So a few days before Ramadan i thought about my promise and i heard a voice telling me to give Allah one last chance for the voice's sake. I thought it was my childhood voice so i got moved. Well i was reluctant but i promised it i would give it a shot like never before but this would be it. I would ask for my eyes and my throat back. To stop seeing these things. To get 4 A stars in my a level exams even though i think i flunked every one of them because i prepped in the last nights on coffee. I did all namaz in congregation while starving both for the fast and because i was too afraid to eat because of dysphagia. Made prayers after every farz sunnah and nafal, after every namaz. Cried like a bitch like fifteen times in Ramadan. Did every act i could. Even some tahajjuds Yeah i know what you're thinking. Im crazy. Yes . But before i leave this faith i want to know that i atleast tried. However at first it was difficult AF but slowly the process got easier. Whenever i went for sajdah in namaz which i probably didn't do in years i felt blood flow to my brain almost as if my head was gonna explode. I slowly regained consciousness and overcame my depression. I truly wanted ro change and i made it clear to god and i did change and gave it my best shot. I forgave everyone even that prick that abused me when i was seven. I feel alive again for now and it gives me hope but hope is not enough because every worldly dream of mine was squashed. I left everything for god. I loved to play games. Cant do because of my eyes. I loved to learn languages. Now i can't even recognize my voice because of my damaged throat let alone articulate french. I wanted to do so much and all of that was taken away from me. I still hate God but I'm giving him one last chance to start making sense and to give my eyes back. I intend to ask for it near the time the results for these exams come. So far i have started praying to him and surprisingly some duas do get accepted. I sometimes wake up when i ask him to wake me up for fajr. One day i missed surah mulk before bed and i heard it in a dream and literally woke up reciting it ,moving my lips and everything . I was even strangely woken up the day i was about to miss english language paper 3 by mom with only a few minutes to spare even though i told her like four times in the last two days that she was the one getting the date wrong. i even sent her off at fajr time when i was sleeping and she still managed to sleep and wake up on time and check the date sheet for no apparent reason and my dad was home late that day so he was able to drop me in the nick of time. but all of this doesn't mean anything. Nothing.