Time for truth

Hey there everyone.

Maybe you remember me. Maybe you don't. Maybe you wouldn't, shouldn't, couldn't, but maybe you might. That's all that matters.
I've got a lot on my mind, and need to write it down. Maybe i'm starting to become an attention *****, in other's opinion, leaving and coming back like this so many times.

I need to get some of theses things out of my mind. So, i'm going to write down what i still remember about me, my life, and what i truly am. Most of you will read this, maybe have a good laugh and copy-paste it to read it later, to laugh again, and won't beleive it. But i'm under a truth oath, so i can't really lie. And i've done it to others around me so much, i'm starting to be sick.
So, hell, i'll just write. I'll start with what i used to be, then what i am. Then, my memories. And, to conclude, my fustrations/how i feel about my life just now. Will you all be my psychologists today/tonight? Might do me a world of good to simply know i've been writing some truth and that it reached some ears (i mean eyes).

(PS my memories aren't in total chronologic order, everyting is still so blurry.)
I've always been able to see things others didn't, and hear some things other thaught were wind, wooden floors cracking or far-away radios playing/crackling. But, when i was 11-12 y.o., i found what it was. Spirits, demons and the usual dead people walking around. Poltergeists and the such, you might add.
I always had a fascination for them, since then. I've studied them. And found how to control it, as well as something i've been called magic since then, but that would be scientifically called electro-cerebral psychism and enhancement.
By using a particular part of the brain, anyone can affect their view, smell, taste, and the like. Some might be able to get access to others... Dimensions, let's call them, even if not scientifically possible. They are in fact other people's electrocerebral pulses and waves, but it's all the same. For, you see, i would've called myself a mage.
I comunicated with them spirits and the like. I learnt things other people couldn't, such as what was happening at the same second to other people. What they really thaught under their masks.
And, most of all, how much of them bullying me were sad about their own lives, and spent their fustration on me. I was becoming a martyr, living only by swearing to himself vengeance, death being my salvation. But i was wrong, oh damn **** i was wrong.
I met that guy. Let's call him steeve. (it ain't his actual name.) He was the first in 4 years to come to me and trying to be my friend. He tried to look tough, but he was a tender, sweet guy inside. We quickly hitted it off, and he told me what he was. Why i kept seeing that white light in his back. They were wings; for he was what he called himself an angel. (Don't you mock him, for i've became one too. Keep reading to know how.)
After a while, we practiced our talents together. We would throw energy (electrocerebral pulses) at each other, block them with said energy, and most of all, practicing melee range combat. Either with weapons or our fists, we'd train hard, then even harder, enhancing ourselves with our newly found energy.
Then, the fall. I started to doubt in myself. To see the world grimmier than it was. Things were going wrong, i don't remember how or why. But it lead me to the one biggest mistake: drugs.
After three years of abusive consomation (docs said i should've been dying of an overdose when i went to an hospital, with such a high level of marijuana in my system, 68 hours after my last consomation), Steeve came back and made sure that i wouldn't touch to such trashy dirt ever again.
It's been 4 yours last week. And even now, i feel sudden urges to take some. Never have i felt back in them.
Anyways. Back on topic.
Drugs had irreversible problems caused to my psyche. Since them, i loose memory pretty easily, especially short-timed memory. There is no medics known that can help me, but that ain't the real problem. I forget who i am.
So, i did the first thing i could: destroy all and every personality left, and mold them into ''masks'', wich i constantly wear. If i woudn't have made them, i wouldn't have my today's problems. Anyways.
After some rehab time, we practised again. And, instead of vengeance and hate, i felt joy and happiness. Everyone who hated me back then ignored me then. They just didn't care, and thought i had took theses drugs constantly because of their bullying.
After that, well, it's a kind of black out. I remember a few events, like me and Steeve hunting and killing stuff with our energy molded into swords/maces. Many times, we saved the weak by doing so; you see, when ''humans'' (we are too) got touched/hurt by demons, or evil in itself, under any of it's forms, they got worst. Like, bad people. They started to hate, to get violent. Killing them demons started not to become a way to vent, but more like a job, a responsability.
We trained others to help us. six, actually. All of them are somehow my friends.
And they honored me a lot. I was the second strongest of them. I'd take shots, blows and conjure good shields for them. A good martyr.
Was that all i could be? Was i that happy to be the tank? It wasn't a video game. It was- and still is real life.
Because of that, Steeve made me vow to protect and serve ''humans''. Then, next morning, i wake up with a weird feeling in my back. Wings, made of the purest light. No one, excpet my seven friends, could see them. (As i write, i feel them flutter. They're still as bright as that day.)
Then, i don't remember really. I know i made myself a tulpae, then separated it from my own conscience, and made her a spirit under Steeve and I's command- (she felt in love with him, and now they're, weird enough, a couple. Been together for a year now.). Michael, the archangel, gave me a part of his flame to help me kill the evil.
I remember doing stuff no one would beleive. Saving people without them knowing. Always getting hurt.
Today, i have weird marks that would prove it, and a slight limping in my right leg.
I learnt alchemy. How philosophy, magic, and the arcane energies, once blended together, could heal us- even humans- was beyond me. Then, i got struck with corruption, started going mad, and someone here helped me. I won't name him, in case he doesn't want it to be known.
I learnt how to master runes and runic symbols. Today, they're almost a popular kind of art, but trust me, to sensitive people, standing in my glyph would heal your wounds, or make you feel ill, depending on wich kind i draw.
Anyways. Last thing i remember happened 4 days ago. I've awoke, knowing little to nothing (all of the memories i wrote came with time), with wings, holsters, and a ring on my finger. Wings and holsters made in energy, though there's a real ring on my finger. It pictures a star, it's made of plain silver, and it doesn't do much. I just can't remove it. And i can't remember ever getting it, buying it or anything. It just popped there.
Anyways. I came back. From where? Dunno. I'm Noxiel. Nox stands for Night, in latin. It does have a sense. My eyes adapt in exactly 1.78 seconds to the darkest of dark, and i see almost as clear as day. Moonlight is so soothing.
And, Steeve has been ranked as an Archangel. Lelahel, he's been called.
We're still saving hundreds of lives. There's also all of that story i haven't wrote, about my old self. I was synthetic. A synthetic soul. Too long to type, so long story short, i used to create a ''copy'' of myself each time i died, under the form of a tulpae, and use it as a ''soul'' in my next life to keep living. (i swear i sometimes remember some of those memories. Like being a salor on a huge wooden ship, praying to ease a storm, or killing people in a weird war with a mace and shield. I can feel the weight of the mace and shield, and the bleeding gashes in the leather armor.)
So, i've been going to the council, wich is an assembly of the Occult, especially angels/seraphins, and i've been told i was ''reborn as a new soul''. Then, i got a job, and i've been trying to live with that. Keeping it secret so i wouldn't be judge. Have i rally done it for such a long time? I just remembered how close i was with people here. Anyways. I couldn't bear it anymore, so here's my story.
Now, for my problems. Job is hard. I'm calling in the USAs, more especially companies, to make surveys.
All day long, i'm being rejected by receptionists and assurance workers.
Then, metro and bus; always so busy. Always the traffic. I get to stand up in moving things i don't control- one of the things that makes me hate this place. You could almost call it a phobia, but instead of fear, it's... Sickness, i guess. That's how i can say it.
Then, after 2 to 3 hours of traffic, i get home.
And then, there's that woman, I'm being told she's my ''mother''. How can someone so harsh, rude, hatefull and... Angry, might be my ''mother''? She just keeps screaming and whining about how she's disappointed in me. About how i'm doing nothing. That the only thing that makes me stay with her is my job, and the money i give her. Then, she yells about how she hates her own life, then insult me in ways... Like, about how i can't clean dishes properly. About unfit is my bed, when i place the covers. Or, about how slow i am when i try to focus to make things right.
I'm 19 years old. I lack money to leave, for she takes a major part of it away, and the remaining said money covers my transport, food, cellphone and anything else i need.
So, i'm about to make a breakdown. I can't keep it going. Even now, i'm writing as i should be sleeping- i'm working in 8 hours, waking up in less than 5.
I'm not asking you anything. Not, ''What should i do?'', or ''Make me feel better''. Neither attention.
But something unknown drives me to write everything, and i feel slightly better already. So, have a good day/night you all, might you beleive me or not, 'my job is done', and i look forward to speak with those who don't think i've been crazy or anything since i'm born.