The Past

We all have our testimonies. Our life stories. Our pasts. Sometimes, we just may not expect to find out something about a person.

People tell me all the time about how bubbly and happy I seem to be, and I really am, but I didn't always used to be.

 

In Middle school I went through a very rough time in my life. Along with mine and everyone else’s hormones going into over drive, I started to gain weight. Needless to say, a lot of people noticed. Things got really bad 7th grade in particular. I got shoved into a locker once, tripped up numerous times, and harassed every single day. I didn't really know how to handle it. I never got treated so badly before.

I tried to do the same things as everyone else. Tried to do whatever it took to be liked by them, but it seemed no matter how hard I tried to get my fellow class mates to like me, I still came up short. Any attempts to be like the popular kids I made, I always fell flat on my face.

My grades began to drop. I had really bad ADD at the time (I've learn to control to where I don't even take the medication anymore and haven't for years!) and it was hard to concentrate as it was. Add on the fact that the teachers didn't want to help me because they had 30 other students as they reminded me and all I could do was concentrate was how miserable my life was. Mom and dad were getting stressed out; afraid I was going to fail. They didn't know about the bullying. I didn't want them to know. I wanted one last thing for them to worry about. I also feel like I had no choice but to endure it. It was the law to go to school. I was homeschooled in 5th grade and I knew it was strain on my mother who worked nights at the hospital and we couldn't afford to send me to a private school. Even if they could at the time, I didn't see how it would help. It wasn't really school that was the center of my pain, it was people. I felt like you just have to endure people.

I started to get suicidal thoughts. I couldn't bear the thought of living anymore. I listened to the lies people told me and believed them!

"You're fat." You're Ugly." "You're a failure." As much as I hated the people that tormented me, it didn't even measure the amount of hatred I felt for myself.

I was going to a southern Baptist church at the time. I couldn't understand why I, the good little Christian girl who was going church 3 times a week, wasn't having sex, doing drugs, or even saying a swear word, why God was allowing this to happen to me. I got angry at God, yet I still fell at the alter every Sunday, begging for forgiveness, thinking I must have done something to bring this on myself.

I remember crying in the bathroom at my school, telling God if he doesn't kill me, I'll do it myself.

I confided in my Christian friends, telling them about how I felt. I was reaching out for love and comfort. The best bit of "Wisdom" they could give me, was "If you kill yourself, you'll go to hell!"

So, rather than being comforted, I became more angry at God. I didn't understand why I, as I saw, being punished. What could I have possibly done to deserve this?

I remember writing note, telling my mom and dad that I loved them very much and they deserved a better daughter than me. I then ripped up the notes, so they could never see them.

I would have a conversation in my head. A voice telling me that I should kill myself and that I was worthless. I was nothing!

One day, I almost took the voice's advice. While doing the dishes one day after a hellish day at school, I picked up a giant steak knife. Dad was at work, mom was asleep, and my brother was out with his friends. I held the steak knife about my head. I was so tired of my heart hurting; I was willing to put a knife into it to stop it from beating.

I tried to bring it down.......But I couldn't.

It felt like someone who was much stronger than I was holding my wrist. I eventually stopped fighting the force and threw the knife to the ground and fell sobbing to the ground.

 

Things got better when I decided to be myself instead of what I felt like others wanted me to be. I started to get into the Punk look. I still dealt with depression on and off, though.

In 9th grade I was homeschooled and I am grateful for it. I was allowed to back away from the horrible situation and focus on myself.

I got into the Goth look. Then I went to an inexpensive private school in the new town that I moved to. Some of the kids try to tell me there was no such thing as “Christian Goth", and I thought I could not be the ONLY one! So I googled "Christian Goth" and boom, the first site I found was www.christiangoth.com.

I still had depression to deal with. That's something you just get over, it takes time.

When my grandfather died when I was about 17 years old, I experimented with cutting. Not deep, but enough to where I had to cover my arms and legs to hide the scars. I still see the faint lines on my arms. I did it every once in a while. I saw it as self-punishing because my self-esteem was still building.

The more I focus on God, the more self-esteem I build because at least this way I know that I'm not perfect and never will be. But I know that despite the many flaws I have, I am still loved. I got out of my religious mind set and more into a relationship. I can come to God just the way I am. So weather I am bubbly or a blubbering mess, I can still come to him. And he will comfort me when the world tries to destroy me.

I understand so much why people are turned away from Christianity. I almost did. I thought about converting to different religions and even becoming an agnostic or an atheist.

So I got rid of religion and focused on God.

Everything I do in my life, whether it's writing, singing, acting, babysitting, volunteer work, or even dressing up. I give God all the glory.