Hiding my mental illness.
I’ve been a mental health advocate in some capacity my whole life. Learning to cope with depression, anxiety, and P.T.S.D. was a challenge, especially before I ever sought help from professionals. I work hard to manage my mental illnesses. My colorful mental health picture is a direct result of childhood sexual abuse, psychological abuse, and fears.
In high school, I was a panel advocate on teen pregnancy and wished I took that opportunity to discuss the background of my mental health before becoming a mom. What those classmates didn’t know was that the abuse I endured for years was still going on at that time. They never heard the story of a girl’s loss with no dad, and the only one in her life terrorizing her. I couldn’t share that I searched for love to fill in the broken gaps of my heart. I was a textbook example of things I refused to disclose.
I positively used my voice without knowing my voice.
It would be years before I met myself. Time would heal my wounds, and courage would eventually merge the pieces of my soul. Before God was my everything, I was a floating vessel in search of solid ground. Each step I took in recovery was a move away from a haunted past.
We all have a ‘before.’ However, for the Christian, we evaluate ourselves, and the before and after is significant. Our stories evolve, and wisdom grounds us in our Creator in ways unbelievers will not comprehend. My life before Jesus and now is the greatest story I will ever tell, and I am thankful to have it. I will spend the rest of my life advocating- and I will never hide my truth again.
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