I was lost.
I was broken.
I was hungry for something more…I used to go to a private school downtown of only 400 people so it was pretty small. I was never really included in much of anything socially. I kind of got used to it. It was fine but I knew something was missing.
In middle school I was suddenly thrust into the spotlight. I was bullied and made fun of to the point where I couldn’t go to school and not be openly mocked by the students. I was made fun of for who I was, or simply because it was funny to see a thirteen year old kid cry.
I started to lash out at people and even family. I started getting into fights at school and throwing things. One kid made a crack about Prozac, which my brother was using at the time, and I knew, if I didn’t get help, would be using, too. That was the first time I ever attempted murder against someone. I ran at him and tried to get my hands around his throat. Luckily the assistant principal caught me before I could do anything.
We were immediately taken to the principal’s office. He was a fat --- who didn’t give a ---- if someone was emotionally tormented. These kids’ parents paid good money. He wasn’t going to let anything happen so he reprimanded the person at fault; me.
I started going to a therapist every week. She kept trying to teach me “relaxation techniques” that never worked on site. She would constantly bash Christianity and sometimes my mom would even join in. It aggravated me that the two people who were supposed to help me didn’t give a ---- about what I believed and didn’t care that I was IN THE ----ING ROOM!!!!
I started to become more and more suicidal. I wanted anything that would take my pain away. I would even scribble all over my wrist in pen in hopes that the ink would seep into my bloodstream and kill me.
I left the school but life didn’t get much better until a few months ago. I was at IHOP’s OneThing conference in December and one day Allen Hood was speaking on depression and self hatred. Near the end of the teaching I found myself bawling at my chair. Suddenly people were around me and praying for me. One man, who looked similar to an old friend of mine, was praying over me in tongues. He then said, “God’s telling me someone’s told you you’re not good enough and you’re not loved. Does He bear witness?” He had to ask me several times before I could muster to answer through the tears, “Yes He does.” He went back to praying in tongues and then he said to me. “Don’t let anyone ever tell you that you’re not good enough. That you’re not loved. That’s satan getting into your mind and messing with you. God loves you more than you can imagine.”
Every day since then God has been showing me his true love for me. He’s showing me his love even right now. He loves me more than I can physically comprehend. For I am beloved.
You found me.
You fixed me.
You fed me.
You died for me
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