![]() I felt so alone and couldn’t wrap my head around why everyone was treating me strangely. It felt obvious that my family was wrong-as if they kept pointing to the sky and telling me it was black while I knew it was blue. While my memory of the entire time period is hazy, I do remember feeling So. I, meanwhile, paced around my bedroom, babbling and afraid, furious that no one believed my prophecies. They made sure I was never alone with my daughter while they figured out a plan. It was peak pandemic, so sending me to the hospital would mean they wouldn’t see me for a while, but they knew I needed help. My husband and parents didn’t know what to do, and I don’t blame them. He told me I was his chosen prophet and my daughter was the second coming of Jesus. It was at this point that I began to hear detailed messages from God. “It’s just going to be me and you from here on out,” I remember telling her. I paced the house as I held her, fearing she would simply die if I handed her to anyone else. I bolted out of bed and sprinted to my daughter, certain that she was in danger. Period.Ī week after giving birth, I woke up in the middle of the night with a startling revelation: I couldn’t trust my husband.
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