old at the time, completely overwhelmed with grief and my steadily declining mental health.
Over the past nine years of my life since my father’s passing I’ve struggled with everything from social anxiety, bullying and toxic relationships to major depression, suicide attempts, and hospitalizations. My family and I were at a loss and no one seemed to know how to truly help me in a way that would dismantle the ticking time bomb in my head telling me the worlds better off without me.
I thought god had forgotten about me and the only way I could ever find belonging and peace would require joining my father in the afterlife. I’ve held resentment towards god in my belief that he alone was the determining factor as to why other little girls got
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I need purpose, a sense of direction, most of all I need to find a way to love myself after years of hating my illness and therefore myself. I’ve heard the fear in my mother’s voice as shell called 911 because I tried overdose. I’ve seen the pain in my mother’s eye’s when she watched me being carried into an ambulance on a stretcher. I’ve had major depressive episodes where I cried from the moment I woke up, throughout the day, until I cried myself to sleep at night. I begged god to bring people who hurt me back to me, to make them love me again after they abandoned me. I felt like a failure for attempting but never completing suicide …show more content…
I wasn’t used to a church with live music, people dancing and jumping up and down. Returning to the house of god stirred up all kinds of mixed emotions. All the pain I’ve been through, all the love I’ve been missing out on, all the possibilities I quietly locked myself away from for nine years, nine years alone, nine years of depression, nine years of never feeling good enough. I had to re center myself and return to a place of emotional stability, so I watched the sermons from the comfort of my own room and felt the love of god with me, in me, around me. Drowning out my doubts, my fears, my