As I said before I was raised in a Christian home. This meant that as a young child (and even as I was older) I was taken to church every Sunday and involved in church activities so I was able at an early age to know at an early age that God exists and that He is a loving God. Although I made a commitment to God when I was very young, I don't think that I was actually a Christian. When I look back on it I think I may have been more concerned about being able to get the crackers and juice like everyone else at communion.

When I was five I was sexually abused my my uncle. We had gone visiting and spent the night (at least) there. That night he got me out of bed and abused me. Being a young child I believed it was a game because he was treating it like one. I had never been up that late at night so I felt very special. I knew that my parents wouldn't let me be up that late, so it was exciting. It never occurred to me that it was wrong. So I grew older.

When I was almost eight my family moved. For some reason I never really adjusted to it and so the beginnings of my isolation took hold. In third grade, the year we moved, I was enrolled in a private baptist school. There I was made fun of for my accent and my clothing by my peers. This naturally did not help the fact that I had a hard time making friends. After that year I was placed in public school where I repeated third grade because my parents wanted me to be with my age group. School became easier. I was still made fun of for my clothing but I had a few friends. It was here where I met a girl that I will call Winnie (this is not her actual name).

Winnie was what you would call a social outcast or "nerd". Looking back I sometimes wonder if it had anything to do with her home life. She was so desperate to have people like her but kids are so cruel. They teased her unmercifully, even more than they messed with me. I was picked on but not hated. She seemed to be despised by everyone. One day they were being especially cruel and so I stood up for her. From that point on I was her friend. Granted I probably wasn't the best friend she could have had. I myself didn't really want to be around her because she irritated me but I didn't think that I could ditch her after standing up for her so there we were. Being young I thought that in order to truly be friends you had to do things that friends do: spend the night at each others houses, etc. Now I know that that is not neccesary but then I thought it was so I did. It was at her house where I would be abused sexually and physically by her father for the next four years, from when I was nine to when I was thirteen. I know you're probably thinking "Why did she keep going back?" The whole dynamics are complicated but the main reason, other than the twisted reasons that he gave me, is that I thought I had to. I felt obligated to be her friend and I thought that I would not be a true friend unless I spent time at her house. So there you have it, extremely simplified and as accurate as it can be at this level of simplification. This continued until a couple of days after my thirteenth birthday when the experience was so horrible that I cut myself off with no explanation from all of my friends, including Winnie.

The whole time this was going on I spent a lot of time crying out to God. I was sure that He hated me and could not understand all the conflicting feelings that I had. I felt so dirty but no amount of showers that I took made me feel clean. I couldn't understand how the loving God that I had been taught about when I was younger could allow such a thing to happen. What I didn't see is that He was right there the whole time, not only keeping it from being as bad as it could have been but also keeping my young mind from cracking under the strain. I had begun disassociating during the abuse, and afterwards, as my depression deepened, it became more and more frequent. It got to the point where a lot of the time I wasn't "present" when at school and stuff. I was a miserable little kid. I spent most of my time in my room or the shower and I cried a lot when I thought I was alone. It got to the point where when I looked at the world it literally looked gray and bleak. Then, a little over three months later I miscarried. The last incident had gotten me pregnant. That was the final straw. I was now sure that God hated me and I just wanted to die. I began to do things like going outside in the cold in hopes that I would get really sick and die - if I died that way I figured that I wouldn't be looked at as a suicide. I was thirteen years old. Fortunately God did not allow this to happen.

I began to do more blatantly self-harming things. I began to scrape my skin raw with plastic knives and erasers. Then I moved to actual cutting with knives and razors, eventually moving to matches and lighters. I was hurting so bad on the inside and my communication lines had been destroyed. Plus amazingly enough it worked for a while. I don't know how I knew that it would work, I hadn't heard anything about it until after I started. Soon, after I was fourteen I was in and out of psych hospitals, having experienced seclusion, four-points, shots in the behind, restraints, the works. But I just didn't care anymore. At one point I attempted suicide by tylenol overdose but fortunately I had no clue how to go about doing it so I wound up drinking charcoal rather than being dead. I am so glad that I was so ignorant. Eventually I was committed to the State Hospital where in the course of the two weeks before I was transfered I was put on so many drugs I could barely hold my spit in. It was pathetic. When I got to the new placement, they had to wean me off of the drugs and the withdrawal made me shake so bad that I couldn't function at all. It took me half an hour to brush half of my teeth and for quite a while I couldn't even bathe myself without help. It was at least a year before I was back to "normal" and I still have a numb spot on my thigh from so many shots. When I was seventeen I was finally to the point where I was no longer a danger to myself and I was transfered to a Baptist Children's Home.

This was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. I was placed with solid Christian foster parents who let me know that there are long lasting consequences for my decisions and consistent punishments for my actions. I hate to admit it but sometimes I would misbehave just to get the punishment because it was reassuring to know the consistency. Through their example and love I was able to recognize God for who He really is and on the third Saturday of February 1998 I gave my life to the Lord. I can't tell you how awesome it has been. God has just changed me so much. He restored my relationships with my natural family and in September of 1998, before going away to school, I got to move back home. I am so glad to be alive now, whereas before I could not even see myself as being alive to reach my eighteenth birthday. I am so blessed in my life now and then and God has been working so many restoring miracles in my life. I am so thankful for His love and commitment to me because even now there are so many times where I fall short.

Currently I am enrolled in a Christian college where I am really just growing in my faith. It is so exciting to me all the things I am learning about God that I never knew. My life is not totally healed yet though. I'm still in counseling, still struggle with self-abuse, still have nightmares and flashbacks, and still have problems relating to other people but I have a new hope. As Psalm 71:14 says, "But as for me, I will always have hope, I will praise you more and more." I feel like that is my life verse because I really do have a hope and happiness that I never dreamed possible before knowing God. Do I still struggle? Yes. Do I still get angry with God? Sometimes. But despite it all I know that my God is with me and that He cares for me deeply. If you have any questions or comments please, don't hesitate to e-mail me. I'll get back to you as soon as I can. If you don't know God personally, I would just encourage you to look Him up and get to know Him. He is truly the best choice you could ever make.

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