Talking to God

Is it ok for me to tell you that God spoke to me tonight?  That it's only when I'm crying out with utmost pain as I pray that I hear Him?  This happened tonight, and it's the third time I've felt God speak to me, and this time it wasn't just God but the Theotokos.  I had a bare, very dim glimpse of her, after I was praying in anguish, while I was walking home, for Jesus to please, please please tell me what to do to give up my will and to let Him take over, because I don't want it anymore, and I'm just clueless as to what to do.  After about 30 minutes of this constant crying out, I got an answer, and it felt like it was from the Theotokos, telling me what I had to do.  Answering me, directly and clearly.  And that it was that I have to give up substances to prove that I don't want my will anymore.  This was very clear.  I asked, and I was answered.  It doesn't get clearer than it was tonight, and the very very vague presence I felt was of the Virgin Mary telling me this.  Is it ok to tell you this?  I don't know if this is supposed to be private, but I want to say something.  I feel so blown away, happy and also completely devastated that the answer is something that is so hard, that it will require such suffering.  But nothing compared to being crucified... my selfishness again.  I feel despicable when I think of how weak I am, that I quail at this prospect. 
Anyway, I don't know.  I'm afraid.  I don't know if this is something I should talk about.  I'm still so entirely screwed up, and that's part of the problem, that I should believe that, because it's what stops me from going forward, that belief.  Talking to God is hard.
It was a beautiful thing tonight, walking home through the quiet wilderness of north Denton, a rare spot, there in a wide space bordered by trees and water under the moonlight.  It was just the beautifulest thing, lying on the cold ground with a fish eye view of stars, the cloud shrouded moon, and the heavens above.
Good night.