Turns Out He Was Right By My Side

In eighth grade, mt best friend committed suicide. I fell into a deep depression, followed closely by anxiety disorder. I distanced myself from people I had talked to, confiding in only one person. Her name is Danielle.

Danielle introduced me to a new set of friends. They sold and did drugs, drank consistantly, harrassed the city. Danielle and I foresake our view of God shortly after we started hanging out with them on a regular basis.

Because Danielle and I did everything together, we started cutting. Looking for a reason for life to treat us so cruelly, we looked into Wicca: the study of witchcraft. We became students of the craft immediately.

Slowly, I became to insane for the group to hang out with, and I was left with only Danielle again.

Summer came and my mom sent me to a Christian camp. I resisted as hard as I could. I would not let them take my Goddess away from me. She had been my refuge after the death and the grugs and the alcohol.

But I hit rock bottom. I got into an abusive relationship. Scared out of my mind, I turned to the people at church. After a few months, I was able to break it off, because I was convinced if he killed me, it wouldn't really matter. I was dead already, as far as I was concerned.

Unable to give up on me, the christians who watched my spiral downwardhung on to me. They took me on a camping trip.

Durring a worship time around the campfire, I started questioning what the Goddess had been doing for me. I had made magic, and seen things happen, but it wasn't taking me where I needed tyo go. That's when the leader started talking.

"If just one person accepted Jesus into their heart tonight, I would see my life as complete. I feel a lot of pain out here tonight and so I'm just gunna say, if you feel Jesus tugging on your heart, don't  fight it. Just go with it. What have you got to lose?"

I broke. Grabbing a friend, I went through my whole life story with her, needing someone to know that I couldn't make it any more. Two hours. Two hours and gallons of tears later, we prayed.

If it hadn't been for Christ stepping in at the last moment, I'm not sure I would have woken up the next day. I would fall asleep asking for death, setting myself up to end my life.

It took a long time, but I'm much better now. I know first hand that Jesus had healing hands: He healed my broken heart.

ShopGirl ShopGirl
18-21, F
2 Responses Feb 9, 2009

So in other words they preyed on the you when you were weak and vulnerable, willing to accept ANYTHING to distract you from your problems. Sounds like a typical Christian strategy, prey on the weak because those who are doing good aren't stupid enough to fall for it, usually. Religion makes me sick.

This is beautiful.