How Finding God Saved My Life

I was an atheist for the first 26 years of my life. I grew up in a Catholic household. We went to church on Sundays, I attended CCD, and I received all of my Sacraments. But I wasn’t buying any of it. I remember sitting in my CCD class that my poor mother was teaching as an elementary schooler. She taught us about one of the miracles Christ had done. When she was finished, I started laughing and telling her it was all a lie and completely impossible. To say she was angry with me was an understatement. And this inherent disbelief  persisted into my mid-twenties.

And while my lack of faith was starting to become clear in elementary school, my mental health issues were also beginning. I remember being in fourth grade and feeling so out of place and self-conscious. And that continued all through school. I struggled with making and keeping friendships. I started to become very withdrawn from my peers and at home. I didn’t feel comfortable anywhere. And looking back I can see that I was very depressed from a young age.

As I got older, my mental health continued to worsen. By the time I hit high school, I was spending my afternoons in my bedroom sitting at the edge of my bed trying to build up the courage to jump out of my window and onto our driveway. But the guilt of knowing someone could walk by and see me laying there stopped me from doing it. I wanted to end my life, not traumatize a random passerby.

Then, senior year of high school, all of my “friends” dropped me with no explanation. And I broke. I thought, “well suicide isn’t a viable solution right now so how can I escape my life another way?” And my solution was to become a mail order bride and run away. Until I realized mail order brides came from other countries and no one would want to marry a mentally unstable 18 year old anyways. So it was back to suffering through daily life, constantly getting worse and worse.

I think a big reason I didn’t believe in God was that I couldn’t understand how he could let me suffer so much and so young. Why did he want me to be in pain? Why did he want me to feel worthless? Why did he let me get raped when I was 16? Why did he let someone commit suicide right in front of me? And my answer to those questions was that if there was a God he would never put me through everything I’d been through. So he couldn’t possibly exist.

After high school, I continued on a self-destructive path. I pursued toxic relationships. I overconsumed a number of substances. I developed an eating disorder. I got raped again at 23. And I couldn’t find my way in life. I bounced from job to job trying to find anything I actually enjoyed. But when you’re that depressed, there is no joy to be found.

Eventually, I moved to Pennsylvania for a job working as a radio host. I thought I’d finally broken into my dream career and everything was going to be butterflies and rainbows going forward. Instead, I found a toxic work environment and an unfulfilling career. I mean, I had a literal STALKER and the people at my station wouldn’t do anything to protect me. Even knowing that “man” could enter through the side door and get up to my studio without being noticed and attack me. It wasn’t until I got the police involved that my co-workers begrudgingly helped. There were plenty more problems but that one always stands out.

I came to the realization that I didn’t want to work in radio anymore and wanted to have a career helping people. But I didn’t know exactly what that could be. Did I have to go back to school? Did I need a new degree? Could I use the degree I already had? There were so many options that I felt stuck. I was completely paralyzed with the fear that I’d choose the wrong thing again. After all, my track record wasn’t great. So I stayed in radio absolutely miserable while trying to figure out my next steps.

And it was during that time that a friend of mine invited me to go to church with her and her family. I was still a firm atheist but it felt rude to decline when they were being so welcoming. So I showed up one Sunday and I was blown away. Church can have a whole band playing for you? Church can have projectors? Church can have animated pastors who actually keep my attention? Church can feel good? I had to go back for more.

So I started going every Sunday, sitting with my friend and her family. And it felt like every week the pastor was speaking directly to me, telling me exactly what I needed to hear. And I started to believe. But I felt that I had done too many bad things in my life to ever be accepted. How could God love someone as messed up as me? I actually cried about it. But I still went the following Sunday. And do you know what the sermon was about? Grace. I’d never heard of it before in a Biblical sense. But as I listened to the sermon, I knew God accepted me. That He loved me. That He would forgive all my flaws if I accepted Christ into my life. And for the first time in my life, I felt like I had somewhere I belonged. Just as I was.

Unfortunately, shortly after that sermon, I hit an intense low. I still felt stuck about my career change and I still had a bunch of mental health issues going on.

It got to the point where I decided to take the 18 Percocet pills I had left over from a surgery a few months prior and down a bottle of tequila with them that I had left over from my birthday. Everything I needed was right at my fingertips. So I drove home one night intent on finally committing suicide. It would be simple. It would be painless. And I’d be gone.

But something came over me when I got home and I felt this yelling in my head to stop. So I grabbed my bottle of pills, found one of my roommates, told her what I was planning to do, and she took my pills away. Then I went back to my room and knelt beside my bed crying the hardest I ever had. Then the idea to pray crossed my mind. So I prayed to God and said “if you can help me to be happy, I promise I’ll do all the work I can do on myself.” And I swear I heard a deep voice simply say “okay”.

And that was it. I was fully a believer and ready to do the hard work to improve my mental health. God started giving me clarity on what to do with my life and opening doors for me that I never would have seen myself. Through my belief in Him, I finally found my purpose.

I moved back home to Boston and started therapy in 2017. Eventually I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder (that certainly explained the deep depressions followed by dangerous and impulsive behavior), Borderline Personality Disorder, OCD, and Complex PTSD. It’s been overwhelming managing these diagnoses. They all require different methods of healing. Some can be treated with medication while others can’t. It has been a really difficult journey that will likely never end.

But thanks to my newfound faith, I live a good life. I married a good man. I have two beautiful children (and two beautiful dogs). I’m closer than ever to my family. I only pursue environments where I feel welcome. I actually stand up for myself. And I have my purpose: helping others navigate their mental health issues so that they can live their own best life.

And whenever I don’t feel loved or accepted, I remind myself that God loves me. And that’s more than enough.