You're Not Alone

My Story (not a chapter)

Hello, boys and girls. I've been meaning to do this for a while, but never became serious about it until just recently.

I'm about to tell you all the story of my life.

So buckle your seat belts. It's a bumpy ride.

I always say that my story is like peeling an onion. There's lots of layers involved and more often than not, there's tears from the one peeling the onion (in this case, the one telling the story). So hold on tight.

When I was a kid, I never really cared what anyone had to say about me. I was content in who I was and didn't need anyone else. I've always been a weird kid, and I'm not ashamed of it anymore. But as I grew older, I started losing touch with that spark of confidence that I always had growing up.

In 5th grade, I was experimenting with my looks. I wore black everyday and teased my hair so much that a bird could probably nest in it. I got made fun of constantly, but it never really bothered me until I started losing friends.

In 6th grade, I had lost all my friends due to my identity crisis the previous year. I had no one. I'd grown out of the awkward phase I was in, and I was trying my best to fit in with everyone else. I guess kids recognized how hard I was struggling and made me a target. Every day I was told that I was fat or ugly or stupid. I acted like I didn't care at school, but cried myself to sleep every night. I prayed for God to just send me a friend. I was quickly becoming a depressed teenage statistic.

One afternoon, I was standing at my locker and a huge group of kids approached me. I braced myself for the name calling. But instead of the usual sling of insults, it was different.

"Why don't you just go home and slam your face on the sidewalk until you'll bleed to death? You'll die prettier that way."

"Overdose on a bottle of diet pills. You'll die thinner."

"You're a waste of oxygen and an inconvenience to society. Kill yourself."

And you know what, ladies and gentlemen? That's exactly what I tried to do.

I was 11 years old the first time I tried to commit suicide.

It was around this time that one of the worst experiences of my life occurred.

When I was younger, I was in a Girl Scout troop. We had huge meetings every once in a while in a church and almost every troop in the city of Houston came to it. It was always jam packed with parents and their kids. At one of these meetings, I met a boy who seemed to take an interest in me. He was about 3 or 4 years older than me. I can't remember his name for the life of me. All I remember is his face and the sound of his voice.

He and I were talking and I couldn't hear him very well over the massive amounts of people in the room. He asked me if I wanted to follow him into a hallway that was almost on the other side of the church. Stupidly, I agreed.

I look back on this moment everyday and recognize how different my life would be if I would've just told him "no".

The images of that day come in a montage. Him pinning me down with his weight, his hand sliding up my shirt and groping whatever he could, his nails digging into my arm, his teeth biting at my neck, the purple bruises on my arms and hips and throat.

Much of the things that happened to Jen in this story happened to me; staring at the spider, him telling" me not to cry, the massive amounts of pain.

The last thing I remember clearly is him standing up, zipping up his pants, and smiling at me while I was still bleeding on the ground.

He left me laying in the hallway in a mess. I could've laid there for five minutes or five hours. Each second felt like a year.

It was after this experience that I started self harming. Every time I would cut, I could feel myself inching closer to death each minute. But I didn't mind, I wanted to die so badly. I stopped eating and purged the food anytime I did have to eat. By Christmas in 7th grade, I weighed 70 pounds. I was a dead girl walking. I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety disorder and let it take over my life. Days and nights became meaningless as everything I ever stood for fell apart before my very eyes.

In February of 7th grade, I attended an event at my church called "Disciple Now" or "D-Now" for short. The theme of the weekend was about pushing through your hard times and relying on God to take care of you. I told everything to a youth minister I was close to, and she finally helped me tell my mom and dad. I got counseling and progressively got better.

8th grade was uneventful and I was grateful. I felt myself slowly becoming happier and I learned to smile again.

Though this year has definitely not been easy, I've fought through it with a smile on my face and my head held high.

God has been my rock, my anchor, my shield, my fortress and strength through it all. He has never left me, though it may have felt like He did at times. He was always guiding my feet and leading me down the path He's designed for me. Sometimes, I don't understand why His plan for me was filled with so much difficulty. But then I remember that He's given me all of you, struggling through some the same things that I did. My struggles were not taken for granted. I've been able to help so many people just by sharing my story, including many of you.

And you know what? God's been there every step of the way. And you know what else? He's always gonna be there. No matter what.

Thank you for listening to this ever growing, never ending tale of mine. I can smile at the days ahead because I know that God works everything out for the good of those who love Him. And this can be your reality too. I love myself and my life. I've never been happier.

The song I've attached is the Hymn for the Missing (Nightcore version) by Red. I have no idea what Nightcore is, but the song is beautiful. It's helped me get through everything and is going to continue helping me in the years to come.

I love all of you dearly.

You are never alone.

-Gracie