I'm a very analytical thinker. Things need to make sense or follow some sort of logic before I'll just accept it as being true. So it may surprise many people that a person like me would believe the Bible and try to be a follower of Jesus.
But those who know me know that I'm not your typical Christian. I'm not going to judge or attack you. I'm not going to beat you over the head with the Bible and try to arm wrestle you into belieivng the same thing.
That said, I've thought through and investigated many different faiths before and after putting my faith in Jesus. Truth be told it's the only one that makes complete sense (intellectually and emotionally).
If you'd ever like to know my reasons or rationale then please ask me. If you're at all curious about HOW I came to believe then read on...
Looking back at my life now... I can pinpoint the event that triggered my downward spiral. It wasn't my parents divorce itself that caused my depression, and resulting addictions. It was how I reacted to it. Now, having your parents get divorced, enduring the emotional tension in the house that goes along with that, starting High School in a new city, and a mother who is stressed out trying to care for 2 teenagers on one income would affect anyone! Especially a 12 year old kid who was naieve and had always been relatively shy. But I didn't have anyone in my life to talk to and share my pain with. So I withdrew socially and internalized my pain.
My first addiction was television. I would sit and watch TV for hours on end hoping to lose myself in the picture perfect families. Or at the very least laugh at someone else's misfortune. But it was just a distraction. Because as soon as I turned the TV off the feelings of loneliness, pain, & frustration came flooding back in. At school I felt like a zombie. I just went through the motions of showing up for class and doing classwork. Just enough to get by. I didn't try to make friends so I spent most days eating my lunch in the hall and doing homework in the library.
The summer before 10th grade I began hanging out with the other kids in my neighbourhood. They all smoked cigarettes and did drugs. We had nothing in common, but I figured even if I didn't fit in that getting lost in the crowd is better than being alone.
At first it was fun. After school we'd drop out bags off at home & meet up in the park. We'd sit on the hill or hang out at the fence leading into the townhouse complex. We'd just hang out, smoke cigarettes, and talk about anything. Sometimes we'd play quarters or kick the can. But mostly sat around being bored. It seemed like every 1/2 hr or so someone came by asking if anyone "wanted". It was easier to buy drugs than a bag of chips because the dealers came to you.
Once the families left the park we'd get high or drunk. Most times they amused themselves by wrestling. Sometimes neighbours would call the police if we were too loud. We didn't care. As a matter of fact we thought it was fun. We knew the townhouse complexes like the back of our hand could lead them on a wild goose chase all night.
After my first year I had made a few friends with people from my classes. But we only hung out at school. It was then I started to meet some of the kids from my own neighbourhood. We weren't into the same things but I didn't care. I wanted a place to belong but even more I wanted not to be alone. They all smoked cigarettes and did drugs.
I always found it odd that in a matter of 1/2 hr I could get as much marijuana or cigarettes as I wanted but was nearly impossible to buy alcohol. In fact, in my neighbourhood you didn't have to look for the dealers. They came to you. Needless to say it wasn't long before I was getting high every day. I even went to class high a couple times. Soon we had access to almost any drug we wanted. And tried most of them.
By now the pain inside was becoming unbearble. I was having to drink or smoke more & more to numb the hurt I felt inside. It seemed like no matter what I did I couldn't escape the pain inside. It got to the point where I was getting drunk or high just to feel normal. I became severely depressed. I had no joy or happiness in my life. Despite all the "friends" I had I was lonelier than ever before. I just felt like sleeping all the time. Even still I cried myself to sleep most nights. And the nights I couldn't sleep I'd stay up and write horribly depressing poems.
I wanted desperately to escape the pain that was now consuming me. I'd stay up nites trying to think it through. Instead I just became more and more certain that I was driving myself insane. I began to seriously contemplate suicide. I took my time planning it out so that I would die as fast as possible. So it would hurt the least and there would be no second chances. I began asking around school to see where I could get a gun.
I didn't have any hope of ever being happy or experiencing joy again. I didn't have anyone to turn to and pour out problems. All my real friends were long gone. I had been kicked out of parents home twice, dropped out of high school,
... to be continued