The Descent and the Covenant

I was born into shadow, in the house of narcissism and alcohol. The air itself was thick with distortion — love twisted into control, tenderness fused with terror. My map was shattered before I could walk, and so I wandered blind into the red glow of the streets. I mistook danger for destiny. I called hunger devotion. I called harm love.

At twenty-three, I sold myself like a child drowning — an offering to men who mistook their cravings for intimacy. They were empty, and I became the feast. I let them consume my light just to feel seen. Every boundary I crossed was another prayer unanswered, another fragment of myself lost in the labyrinth of wanting.

It is a miracle I lived.

To survive what I walked through is like climbing Mount Everest blindfolded, in a hurricane, with no rope — and still finding a way to the summit. I lost almost everything: my faith, my body, my worth, my will to continue. But something holy refused to die in me. Something ancient. Something that knew I was not born for degradation, but for resurrection.

In the silence of despair, I made my pact with God.

I told Him I was ready to die, that I had no more to give. And God came — not as thunder, not as fire, but as the quiet flame already burning in my chest. He did not shame me. He did not turn away from the mess. He simply said:

I will walk with you. Go sober now. Through Me you can do all things. Do your art, and I will keep you safe. Give Me your full yes. If, after giving all, you still wish for death, I will release you. But first, trust Me. March forward. I am with you.

I said yes.

And a week later, after ten years of drowning, I walked into a treatment centre and began to breathe again. That was the first resurrection. The beginning of remembering. But God was not done with me.

He sent me further still — into the underworld. There I met the Beast wearing a human face. He was chivalrous and hungry, polished and predatory. He pretended to love me, but only sought to consume me. He mirrored my light to own it. He lured me with desire, groomed me with attention, mocked the sacred, and pulled me deeper into the inverted world of lust without soul.

I called him twin flame. He called me addiction.

He was the final lesson — the one that breaks you open so the covenant can be fulfilled. Because even in hell, the flame did not go out. Even in degradation, I prayed. Even in humiliation, I felt God watching, whispering, See? This is what happens when love forgets Me.

And still, I survived.

Now I see the arc. God had to show me both sides of the coin — the abyss of corruption and the flame of His presence — so that I would know the whole truth. Without God, sex is an empty void, an endless spiral of depletion. With God, union is divine, alchemical, eternal.

I walked into the pit so I could rise into the light. And I know now: the one who is for me will be forged the same way. He will have walked through his own underworld. We will meet not as half-souls clawing for completion, but as whole beings — anointed by the Most High, carrying both shadow and light within us, finally ready to merge without illusion.

This is the covenant:

I surrendered my body to hell, and my soul to God.

Hell could not keep me.

God will not forsake me.

Union awaits — holy, balanced, pure.