When I was younger I always went to church with my grandparents, was saved long ago when I was a child, but once we moved away from my grandparents all the faith I had disappeared.
My father is an abusive alcoholic, my family is very poor, we moved from house to house, and often went days without a meal. With all that I began to question God “Why would you cause all this if you love me?” I was seven years old at the time. As the years went by I grew farther and farther away. I moved from place to place, lived in 12 different houses by the time I was 13.
On October of 2009 my grandfather died, he was my best friend. That was the day I never wanted anything to do with God again. He had taken away my best friend. Still life was getting worse and worse. I started failing classes and slipped into a very deep depression. On February of 2010 I tried to kill myself, feeling it was the only thing left I could do. I failed, fortunately, and was sent to a mental hospital. After my time there I was released with six months of counseling. It didn’t work, I still cut myself, I still cried every day.
I would never leave my room, some days I had trouble getting out of bed; the depression was just too strong. My parents I guess don’t know how to show love. They were never home, they always yelled, whenever I tried to speak I would be ignored, especially when “wonderful military Brandon” was around.
I began to have nightmares every night. Evil things would come after me, evil things would try to destroy me. One night I went to God and asked him “If you’re real, show me”. The night I went to bed and the evil was after me again, but I could destroy it with this giant sword, but it would only work by saying the names of Jesus. One by ones names of Jesus came out of my mouth, names I never even knew, and the evil was destroyed. Jesus tried to get to me that day, but I didn’t listen.
I tried to tell my mother I was depressed and I needed help. She told me: “I’m not taking you to strangers to talk about your *finger quotes* “problems”. She told me I never try to be happy, trust me, I try.
During this Summer I came and stayed with my grandmother, I had lost respect for my father and almost all my respect for my mother, I was glad to get away. My grandmother began to take me to church again, since God was on my “bad list” I hated going. But then slowly I began feeling hope when I was in there, people actually remembered my name! I felt love. I then learned the Pastor was a counselor and I went to him every Monday. During my first session, Pastor Tim had told my grandmother I was in such a horrible stage of depression he’s surprised I hadn’t killed myself. A few sessions went by and then on June 25th, I got saved. I knew God could help me find my happiness again. As I took that deep breathe to release all the pain inside me, I actually felt like it all went away.
Slowly things began to fall in place. I now live with my grandmother, instead of my parents (Thank you God.) I attend church twice a week and help in any ways I can. I’m still working on talking again, after years of being ignored you stop speaking, and soon just become mute. I no longer wear long sleeve shirts every day, and I no longer cover my mouth with I’m near someone (made me feel like I was hiding, silly I know.)
I know God is the reason that I’m finally free today, the reason I’m happy again and that I laugh again. You can’t imagine how many times I’ve heard “I can’t believe how much Mariah has changed, her expressions and everything, she’s actually happy.”
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