It was the year of 2003. I was 8(turning 9), my sister 10, older brother 12, and youngest brother 5. We were all at school when a CPS officer stopped into our Lawrence Indiana elementary School, Harrison Hill. They picked us early from school this day… I was expecting to see my mom but it was an officer. My heart thumped quickly.. Deep down I knew that something was not right.
They spoke to my siblings and I but I just heard a sound similar to Charlie Brown’s teachers… Wah, wah wah… We were instructed and complied with their orders to get into their black window tinted mini-van. So we did but we did it with tears, hand in hand. They drove us to a place, that haunts me to this day, called the Guardians Home. From then on I was disconnected from my mom and siblings.
My sister (Ruthie) and I went to live with my biological father. He worked a lot. Always came home stressed.. Leaving my sister to be the head of the household. He was no saint. It’s not hard to tell that my biological father was expressing his anger by ignoring us, swearing, and verbally threatening us. Ruthie and I noticed the presbyterian church across the street and started a superficial relationship with people from the church and God (never truly believing in Him, just acknowledging, never understanding).
Ruthie began to act like my step father (who was physically and verbally abusive and was the reason behind the separation). She told me not to cry as she’d hit me and my mother or else she’d advance in the strength she put forth. So, I listened. I never made a noise… Until I was 15.. I fought her back. I swung my fist and pulled her hair. I was done being bullied by her and letting her bully my mother. I had dealt my fair share of rage to my younger brother, as a result. As soon as I realized how my younger brother felt and how I was exhibiting the abusive symptoms and lashing it out on him, I stopped.
Anyways, on the day that I had fought back, my sister was finally given the option to move in with a youth pastor that my parents had and still have no trust for. “They used her as a baby sitter.” She moved in.
Shortly after entering into my 8th grade year, I was being mocked and made fun of by someone who once was my friend (now a bully). It continued into high school (this school was once known as the Guardians Home) but rather than her, a guy replaced her. Everyday he would make sexually comments and even touched me inappropriately. After months of him doing this, I informed the dean of students, who then told that guy what I had said and made a mockery of it.
I retaliated against my biological father. Began to yell back and hit back. I was becoming him. My goal was to be anything but like him. I can see now that he just wants a reaction out of me. “You can’t always get what you want.” Sorry dad.
I switched high schools on frequent basis. Why? Because I always had someone there that would make fun of my obesity or find a way to break me down. Enough was enough, I tried to end my life. Surely suicide is my answer… I attempted three different times, from the ages of 15 to 17. At 17, I was raped by my “best friend”. My suicide attempt, at 17 ,was detrimental. I ended up putting myself in a coma for 2 weeks. It scars me physically and mentally.
I then changed my focus to video games and pleasures that would distract me, someway, somehow. Time was spent trying to normalize the rape… Which led to more traumatic events, to this day I won’t mention because of my shame.
Because my focus shifted, I stopped attempting suicide until I turned 21… 2016, one of the hardest but most necessary years I have faced. I lost interest in the things I used as a distraction and became infuriated with myself. I starved myself and dehydrated myself for a month. I was solely focussed on losing weight for all the wrong reasons.
I thought it would help me love myself. It made me have constant dizzy spells and even pass out. In the end, my focus shifted off of the way I looked and became about how I felt unworthy of nutrients and nourishment. I wanted to die again. I was very indecisive and suicidal and it was a bad combination.
6 times.. That’s how many attempts I made from the start of 2016 to the end of 2016. But I did not face my suffering alone, and recently came to realization that I had never faced it alone. I got saved in 2016 but God was always feeling the pain, as I did. I was urged to get baptized because it is what God commands after. But I waited.. Why? Because I knew that I was not wholeheartedly dedicated to living for the Lord.
In fact, I was not even dedicated to living. I believe that God died for me and that I was forgiven but the problem lies withing myself. I suffer from depression and PTSD and anxiety. I REFUSED GOD’S HELP. I had a million opportunities and rejected Him.
A lot of people are probably wondering how I was informed about God and saved. If we back up a little, to the time when I was feeling indecisive and majorly depressed.. I was also attending IUPUI… I arranged to meet with an advisor for the purpose of changing my major. As I walked into the building, a fire alarm went off, and I saw some tables set up outside the building. I know that God was drawing my attention to this table, when I look back on that day.
Anyways, there were 2 individuals standing behind a table that was labeled “the rock”. The table I would not have cared to look at if the fire alarm wouldn’t have gone off. I was invited to an event and waited a couple weeks until I attended and addressed those 2 individuals… It became my regular way to spend Thursday night (although I had a class scheduled for the same time).
This glorious person, by the name of Anna sat and truly explained what it meant to be saved and that’s what I sought, we sought. Sure enough I accepted the Lord into my heart but now I say that I found God on the day I lost myself.
By that I mean that I wholeheartedly devoted my life to the Lord and stopped glorifying and idolizing suicide over the last weekend. So I made the decision to get baptized. I prayed all weekend that God would take suicide off my table. And sure enough, He did. Anna baptized me. Anna… The friend and sister, in Christ, who stood with me through every depressive episode and overdose. She reassured me that God was there and I informed her that I probably would not have had the strength to be standing here acknowledging my worth and praising the Lord, and maybe even breathing, if it weren’t for her and the rock members.
I came to the conclusion that suicide is not the answer. God is! I realized that I was making multiple mistakes and I plan to change things, through God’s will. My mission in life use to be the objective of successfully finding a way to commit suicide and end my suffering but when I realized God suffers with me, I turned away from that and wholeheartedly gave my life to the Lord.
I pray that I am able to maintain my strength and keep my eyes fixed upon the Lord. Also that, I can take what I have learned and express it through my action and words, which may hopefully lead others to leave the rebellion and join God’s army. God will not give me more than I am capable of handling (see Corinthians 10:13).