My Testimony (Part 1)

How did you think about, or feel about, yourself as a small child?

Most of you probably cannot remember. But for those of you who experienced trauma, a disability, or a major life event at a very young age, you might remember in detail how you felt about yourself. When I think back to my earliest memories of myself,  maybe five or six, I remember having an awareness that my brain seemed to work a bit differently than other people's brains.

For example, I understood that none of my other friends enjoyed sitting in the driveway for hours, carefully scrubbing every rock with a bucket of soap and an old toothbrush. I understood that after watching Toy Story in theaters, none of my other friends were tucking every single toy in with kind words before bed, in fear of their toys coming to life at night to kill them in their sleep. I understood that no one else at the dinner table seemed to become sweaty, nauseated, or faint at the site of porous or seedy foods. I understood that none of my other friends had to count to seven when chewing food or drinking water. I understood that I was the only one pinching off mid flow and standing on public restroom toilets, hiding from anyone who walked in because I was too embarrassed they would hear me using the restroom.

As I entered into my adolescent years, I quickly understood that I was (seemingly) the only one of my peers who had zero sexual desire or interest in exploring my body or someone else's body. I understood that none of my other classmates needed to read and re-read the test questions ten to fifteen times like I did, out of fear of mis-reading something. I understood that my hypersensitivity to colors, smells, sounds, and textures wasn't "normal".  I understood that none of my other friends were replaying that one scary, gruesome, or explicit scene in their heads over and over, from a movie we watched weeks ago. 

Throughout my college and young adult years, I understood that none of the other nursing students felt the need to leave the lecture about contamination/diseases in order to take three to four showers with excessive scrubbing until their skin bled.  I understood that I was the only one of my friends who would leave a bridal shower or wedding venue, crawl in bed without eating or sleeping, and lay curled up shivering for days due to intrusive thoughts/images surrounding intimacy. I understood that my other friends and family members weren't going days without a full meal of food due to impulsively blowing through hundreds of dollars purchasing the exact same item over and over again, in fear of something happening to the first item purchased.

I understood that my brain was different. But what I couldn't understand, was why my brain was different.   

School counselors and teachers implied that I was suffering from a learning disorder. Medical professionals suggested that I was suffering from an eating disorder. Psychologists and counselors suggested that I was suffering with a clinical disorder like depression or anxiety. Peers, boyfriends, and culture implied that I was suffering from sexual confusion, using terms like "gay" or "asexual" to describe my intrusive thoughts, fears, and disinterest in sexuality.

All of these people were right, yet none of them were correct. What I mean is, they were all right in that I was suffering. Yet none of them were correct in that deep down, I knew that my suffering was not due to a learning disorder, an eating disorder, clinical depression, clinical anxiety, or sexual confusion.  And though I would receive an accurate diagnosis of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) many years later that would make sense of why my brain worked the way it did, I spent nearly a decade of my life spiraling into deep and destructive darkness.

This darkness consumed me and disoriented me, impacting all areas of my spiritual, mental, emotional, sexual, financial, physical, and relational life. I viewed God and others as my enemy, leaving me aching for someone to blame. So,

I blamed my family for not knowing how to nurture or comfort my suffering.
I blamed my peers for introducing me to pornography without an invitation.
I blamed my religious environment for teaching me that I needed to show up polished.
I blamed medical professionals for misdiagnosing me and prescribing harmful medication that worsened my symptoms.
I blamed myself for not being able fix my own brain by sheer willpower. 

But more than anyone, I blamed God for creating me with a broken brain that was deemed unfixable.

My obsession with blaming others opened a door wide open for anger to barge in and make itself at home in my heart.  I grew angry at myself. I grew angry at everyone around me. I grew angry at God. I grew angry at life.  That anger burned like fire inside of me, until it consumed every last drop of hope. And without hope, I stopped believing. I no longer believed that a good God existed. I no longer believed that a life without suffering existed. I no longer believed that I belonged in this world. Staying alive, I thought, would only lead to more suffering and more failure, and I no longer had the strength to process that future.

For the first time in my life, I began to experience intense and gruesome intrusive thoughts/images related to suicide. Each night I went to bed convinced that the next day would be "the day": The day that either God would prove He existed by (finally) miraculously healing my broken brain that He created; Or...the day that my continued suffering would prove the non-existence of a God all together, leaving me to take matters into my own hands (literally speaking). For that reason, every day became a life-or-death battle field. 

I am still alive to share my story with you today, not because I out-willed my will to commit suicide,  not because I outsmarted the deathly grip of OCD, and not because I relied on my own strength to pull myself out of the pit of darkness.  No. The reason I am alive right now, is because the very God that I rejected and deemed as non existent, met me in my darkness, exposed all of its deception with His Light, divinely stopped my suicidal attempts, scooped me up in His strength, and rescued me from myself according to His will. 

I exist today because God existed always.
I am alive today because God lives in me.
I live for today because I live for God.

(To be continued in part 2)....