After finding out about my parents divorce, I started struggling with severe depression. For several months I kept it to myself, I knew what I was feeling wasn't right. No one should have the feelings of being unwanted or unloved or worthless. During the few months that I kept my struggle to myself, I had many thoughts of suicide and one, extremely half-hearted attempt. I didn't really want to die, I just didn't want to feel that way anymore. I didn't want to go to bed everynight praying for God to bring me home to Him so I wouldn't feel anymore. I was so lost...so broken. (At some point, I will share more of my struggle with depression, but now is not the time....back to that season of life.....) That whole time I continued serving at my church and being involved there, but the truth was, I didn't feel God anymore. I would teach the elementary students on Saturday nights about how much God loves them but on Sunday mornings, I would sit in the pew and question His existence.
It wasn't until the fall of my Junior year, that I first told someone, when a dear friend of mine unexpectedly died. There were huge questions on whether it was an accident or suicide.....my friends and I kept telling each other it was an accident, she was the last person we ever expected to want to die. Sara's death scared me. She was one of the most genuine people I had ever met, with such a love for Christ......One of the biggest compliments I have always recieved is that I am such a happy person; what if Sara's death wasn't an accident...it came as a shock to everyone. Feeling and seeing the pain of everyone close to her that still don't know for sure wrecked me. It was the turning point of my depression.
The night of her funeral, which my mom (against my will) demanded that she attend with me, I broke down and told my mom that I wish it was me that was in that coffin. My mom and I sat in the hallway and cried for hours. I had finally revealed my biggest weakness, but it didn't help. I was still "zombie-like" I went through the day to day motions and nothing more. My only escape was my theatre class, they only place I felt safe. After a month of my mom practically babysitting me and never leaving my side, she asked me to go see a doctor to get on medication. It wasn't until the beginning of my senior year that I finally agreed to try it.
Looking back on how I went through that season of my life, I am disappointed with how fake I was, I was broken, but I pretended I was whole. I would have brief moments when I would truly feel the Holy Spirit but it wasn't constant like I so desired. I was so spiritually dry that I couldn't have felt the spirit if it slapped me with a wet towel. After years of searching, and praying, I gave up. I went to Cosmetology school after graduation and started hanging out with people I
probably shouldn't have. I partied on school nights, flirted like crazy with any guy that would pay attention to me and eventually, wound up back with my boyfriend from high school who treated me like dirt. While we were dating through high school we pretended to be the "Christian couple" and by that I mean, we fooled around but didn't tell anyone. I had stopped really caring how I was living, so I went right back to him and let the desires of my flesh take over. It pains my heart to admit that I gave away what wasn't mine to give. After he told me I wasn't worth his time, I continued my downward spiral. I stopped serving at my church, because he served in the same ministry, I slept with several people, sent dirty messages and pictures, and tried to fill the void that was in me as a result of turning from Christ. The worst part is, during all of this, I still attended church weekly, and pretended to be the person I so desired to become.
TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 3: WHERE GRACE COMES IN......
