My second awakening...

I just want to say first that this post is going to be a tough one to write... not many people know this story. More like, no one knows this whole story. It's not my proudest time in my life. It's a story of how God got me to my rock bottom. It all started with graduating high school.  I had zero friends.  I am not saying I had a few 'kind of' friends. I am talking zero friends.  Then, in the coming weeks, I started getting chronic stomach aches. The stomach aches started causing weight loss and I didn't want to eat. I was actually afraid to eat. I had no need to get out of bed. I truly was afraid to get out of bed, fearing I'd make a bigger mess of my life, whatever life that was.  I was working a few hours a week, taking care of children. It's one of the only things that got me out of bed. It was such a blessing. I am pretty sure without it I would have gone into a deeper depression. I would wake up and just stare at the sky out my window and cry. I felt so worthless and alone. I had nothing in me and God was just a pal. I'd had Him around since I was 11. He was my buddy. I didn't need to lean on Him. I had this under control, even though deep down I knew something had to change. I am a master at the plastered genuine smile when life sucks. I can still put on a happy 'I am just fine' smile. People rarely catch on to the fact that I am dying underneath. It's a blessing and a curse, really. One night, I wasn't sleeping because my stomach was hurting so bad and my body was weak from not eating. My Bible cover had gathered dust. I was so sad and I didn't want to be told I needed that book. I would look at it and feel so guilty, afraid, alone, and so fallen. The thought of reading it felt archaic and pointless. The pain wouldn't stop, I wasn't sleeping, my tears and mind came to the conclusion that I was worthless and why was I still breathing? I mean, really, why? What was I doing ? Would anyone care if I wasn't breathing? I knew my family would but was that enough? I almost didn't care. Something deep inside me whispered, "Child, I'm here!" This thought settled my heart enough that I fell asleep. The next morning I opened my eyes and still felt the same, no change. That Bible still gathered dust. My tears still ran. My stomach still hurt. My weight still dropped. I still thought I could do this alone. I mean, it couldn't get worse, could it? Really, what more could happen? I didn't think it could or would.  And while it didn't get worse, it was getting more serious. My weight was sitting at 99 pounds. I was so weak and scary thin. I knew something had to change. I just was so overwhelmed. I had nothing left.  That night I had ended up on the basement floor in a ball with a blanket, tears flowing, and all I could say is, "I've got nothing left." My stomach still hurt. We had gone to the doctor, drawn blood, done labs. Nothing, no medical reason for the physical pain. I had no future planned. Didn't have the littlest idea of how I was going to do this. I was sitting in that ball in the dark. All I really could say was, "I am so cold, alone, scared, skinny and I have nothing left." Then I heard that voice in my head again that said, "Child, I'm here!" And this time I answered.  All I could say was, "Why, God, why? Why am I in this place? I didn't ask for this. I have nothing left." With tears streaming down my cheeks, I said, "Lord, please take this pain away from me," hoping and praying it would all just poof, go away. It didn't. My reality was still me in the basement on the floor in the dark. I wanted to be mad at God. But instead, all  I could feel was a calm and His warm, presence and I couldn't say anything. All I knew is my Lord was right there with me. He still cared and I had no clue why. I thought I was too far gone, out of God's reach. I had fallen too far, or so I thought. But the warmth around me spoke a different story. It said, "Child,I'm here!" He was there in the basement, He came into my mess. His presence spoke of hope and faith and the words I needed to hear. I knew in those moments that I was going to make it through this.