No amount of me trying to explain myself was doing any good. I didn't even know what was going on inside of me, so how could I have explained it to them?
The only people that can't handle the truth are those that suffer so much anxiety that they will live in denial, in order to prevent their illusion from being destroyed and feeling more anxiety.
Today I wore a pair of faded old jeans and a plain grey baggy shirt. I hadn't even taken a shower, and I did not put on an ounce of makeup. I grabbed a worn out black oversized jacket to cover myself with even though it is warm outside. I have made conscious decisions lately to look like less of what I felt a male would want to see. I want to disappear.
I don’t have an inspiring story of spiraling into a drug or alcohol addiction just for God to swoop in and save me. Instead, I self-medicated my depression by shopping. I’d spend to forget the pain, get the bill, freak out, then would subsequently go shop some more. At one point, my bill got too high, and I snapped. As I fought to get out from under the debt, I prayed for God to deliver me from the crushing anxiety I felt, which was brought on by the debt and which had added to the debt. One morning God said to me, “Get help. Get well. Be healed.