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Four years ago, I was lost. As a senior in high school, I felt depressed and just wanted to get out of school. The school counselor said I had social anxiety, and sent me to a therapist. All I knew was that I lacked any measure of confidence and cared way too much about what people thought about me.

A year before, I started smoking marijuana to numb my nagging empty emotions. I had started feeling depressed when I was sixteen, and because of my worsening depression, anxiety, and being hung up on a guy, I numbed my pain by smoking weed. I didn’t cry for an entire year.

The summer before I turned seventeen, I smoked every day, several times a day. I stayed in my room most days, trapped in a mental prison. After much advice from the people around me, I started to escape that prison when I decided to quit smoking weed. I also decided to quit because I had become suicidal and didn’t know how to handle life anymore.

One night at my house, I told my brother I was going to kill myself. He was a voice of truth in the darkness I couldn’t escape. He said that “killing yourself is like giving God the middle finger.” Even though I didn’t have a personal relationship with God, I didn’t want to do that because I grew up loving God.

Quitting weed was difficult because, after a year of hiding from life, I became addicted to the high. Adjusting to life without pot was a new challenge, and I was basically a zombie in school the rest of my senior year with a few moments of great joy.

My sister was fooling around being silly one night, and I was in another one of my stupors – not wanting to smile, laugh, or be around anyone. She didn’t accept that fate for me and wanted me to join in on her fun. She drew an upside down mustache with eyes on her chin so she could take a chin-face picture for her friend, upside down. I gave in, and the joy I felt helped me connect to God’s presence inside of me. We were laughing and dancing and making silly videos of us dancing and singing. I felt like everything was going to be okay now because He was there. That night I chose to live in His light and gave my life to Jesus Christ.

After that night my life wasn’t always easy, and I didn’t escape depression’s dark grip until I met my boyfriend, Nick. He showed me that I am a beautiful person, inside and out, and he helped me grow my confidence.

I was emotionally weak (and still am), and he is physically weak. Nick was confined to a power wheelchair when he was only six years old and diagnosed with spinal muscular atrophy. His identical twin brother Anthony has the same disease.  While they’re not paralyzed, they do have weak muscles, and therefore cannot walk or stand.

I have never cared about who a person is on the outside but have always seen them for who they truly are on the inside. Our love for each other is something special. He has helped me so much with his abundant love and forgiveness on a daily basis. He is emotionally secure and has helped me learn to see my real worth. Jesus used Nick to bring me back to who I am on the inside, and I am not afraid to show my light to the world anymore.

Trusting God has been an ongoing process, but I know He has a purpose for my life. One day I will be with God in heaven.

 

Story submitted by Breelagh, from New Jersey

 

Real People, Real Stories, Real God®