This past week has been filled with emotions, reality, truth, past times, memories, tears, fears, hurts, and pains. I went back to an old but so familiar truth that I used to do, and started cutting again. I hate this. I want to talk about it with someone, but every time I try, I choke on my words, and decide not to. I've matured so much since the last time I've done this, and I feel almost like a hypocrite now because for some reason, I don't feel guilty for cutting again. I used to be torn down because of me cutting, but for some reason, I've started to LIKE it. I've grown addicted to it, and I can't stop.

I hate it, but I like it, I can't even explain it.
I just need help right now.
Seriously.

I've been researching different colleges and which one would be best for me and such. I came across two different colleges that got my attention -- UC Berkeley Graduate School of Journalism, and CUNY (College University of New York) Graduate School of Journalism. I'm really interested in how they teach and work there the most (CUNY).
As of now, that's where I'm focusing most of my attention on. I'm not sure if that's the definite place where I'm going, but it's a top place I have in mind. I was reading about how they teach, and it caught my attention. They made a list on the website of all the things they think is best for whichever Subject we want to study about in Journalism. Things like which degree we should get and how we could become a better writer in that subject, etc. It really interested me with the way they spoke of each subject under journalism and how they show they care for each student learning within that subject.
There's only one thing. I think it'd be amazing to live in Manhattan, New York, but I don't know if I could take it with all of those people. But it's not much different if I went to the UC Berkeley School in California.

Now it's more of a situation that is in God's hands now.


Journalism : Arts and Culture

I'm not pretty enough. Why can't I look like her? No one care's about me. I'll never get him to like me. There's no God. If I can't do this or that, than I'll lose my friends. My life is pointless and has no meaning to it. What's the point in life?
This is where my testamony begins.
I have such a vivid memory of everything that has happened these past few years, that it feels like it all just happened yesterday. Few know these things about me, and most remain clueless. But I choose people to know, so their path can be enlightened, and they may know the truth.
It started at a young age, when my feelings for boys grew. I desired to be wanted, and hated to be "out of the loop". I've grown up in a christian family, but at this age, God didn't mean much to me. I had friends, sure, but they all left me. At the time, I was alone. I had a lot of time to myself and my thoughts. When I would think about everything that was going on, I would think of ways to get attention, just so that I could have someone, anyone, give me atleast a little attention. When nothing would work, I figured no one cared about me. My friends had other friends to be with, my parents were always dealing with my brother who was, and is rebelling, and I didn't care about God, what was there to do? I tried drinking, but that wasn't the right way to go. I tried other things, thinking that covering it up would help stop the pain. But at a young age, I figured there was nothing else I could do, besides end it all. The continual thoughts that flowed threw my head over and over again were suicide. They haunted me like a nightmare come true. I didn't really want to end my life, but it was all that was ever in my head. It was all I ever knew. I didn't want to talk to my parents, they were always caught up in my brother. And I didn't want to talk to my friends about it either, because I figured they wouldn't care anyways. But deep down, I so badly wanted them to notice. I decided to just let the continual thoughts bother me, and I'll just move on in life. I was covinced that there was nothing better in life, and this was the best it was going to get. A year went by, and friends started paying more attention to me again. The continual thoughts had been dimmed by my thoughts of always wanting a boyfriend. I was even more wrapped around the whole needing a boyfriend to feel loved thing.
My wish had come true. I got my first ''real'' relationship. Sure, I had boyfriends before, but nothing like this. It lasted a while, and while it happened, I felt like I was floating on clouds the whole time. But the day came, the day everyone regrets when they're in a relationship; the day of the break-up. It all happened so fast, that when the day actually came, it felt like a bullet pierced in the heart. You could say I was enjoying life for a while, until this.
Three days after this guy broke up with me, my brother moved out the house, and he claimed he would never come visit or speak to any of us again. Now this really felt like a bullet went through the heart. The two people that I really looked up to, and you could say were my best friends, were my brother, and the boyfriend. But they both left me in less than a week. When not wanting a boyfriend left my thoughts, suddenly the new thought of 'why did this happen to me?' came in, and it bonded with suicidal thoughts.
I ended up getting to the point of really wanting to just end it all. I would love to say that I don't know why I chose to tell the boyfriend that I was going to commit suicide, but deep down, I know why I did it. I allowed my thoughts and emotions to take over, and I let my thoughts do what they wanted to do. But deep down, my heart didn't want to agree. I wanted help, I wanted out. I wanted to know if he cared about me at all, so I told him what I was going to do. When I received no response, I figured he didn't care, which made everything worse. I remember just sitting at home crying. It became like a hobby, I would just go home and cry. I figured there was nothing else that could be done.
But one day, I went to school. What I didn't know was that my life would be saved this day. All of my life had gathered up to this day. I was planning on after school just ending it all this day, but my hero came, and talked to me...saved me. She told me how she knew what I was planning on doing, because my ex boyfriend told his dad because he didn't know what to do, and his dad talked to this person, who talked to me. When I heard this, I was overwhelmed with tears.
This is when God was re-introduced back into my life again. She prayed with me, and asked if I ever told my parents about this. I told her no, and explained how they are always talking about my brother, and how they are always dealing with him, that they don't have time for me. She was in denial, and did not want to believe that they didn't have time for me. So, we got a plan together and she was going to go to my house, and was going to explain everything to my parents. But before we stopped talking, she asked if there was anything else, and I said yes. I explained to her how whenever I would walk by my brothers old room, I would feel a presence, a presence that wasn't supposed to be felt. I would also see and hear things often that weren't supposed to be seen or heard. I learned later on that it was a Spiritual presence controlling my thoughts and I was seeing Spiritual things, also.
I'm convinced it was because of my brother. We still don't know to this day what he has brought in this house, and who he's brought in our house, but whoever and whatever it is, it has an evil spiritual presence attached to them.
After we stopped talking, she prayed with me, and I left.
Later on, my mom heard everything, and we both started to cry again. When she left, my mom told me that she had no idea about everything that was going on. I told her how I was missing my brother and how I felt lost and confused all the time. She tried talking to me about God again, and even though I had become a christian at a younger age before, I just turned from Him, and didn't want to hear about Him at the time. I try not to regret, but if there was anything to regret, I regret not listening to my mom before hand.
The summer came by, and I was slowly healing. I cut myself off from social groups, and instead of accepting to go hang out with friends, I just decided to stay home and have self pity. I was wrapped around myself. I sat at home, reflecting all that had happened the past few months, and I would cry. Still not over the fact that I would end my life and that I would never see my brother again. Just to ease pain, I would take handfuls of pills, knowing full well that they wouldn't kill me, I did it anyways. It was like a way of getting away. There are no words that could explain the way I felt, and the way that I thought. But one thing I can remember is that I had finished off a whole bottle of pills, that was just full, before the week was even over.
I remember taking a last handful of pills, and thinking to myself, this is pointless, what am I doing? I sat there in sorrow, and for the first time in a few years, cried out to God, and said, God, help me, I need You right now more than ever, I'm sorry for everything, I really am. And for the first time ever, I felt pure joy...true happiness. A happiness that could never be found in a boy, a friend, or in anything of the world. I loved the feeling. And I literally felt a weight lifted off of me. I cried, but this time, the tears were tears of happiness. That night, I rededicated my life with Christ.
The next day, I told my parents, and later that night, they annointed me, my room, and my brothers room. It was such a surreal feeling!
Later on in the summer, our church camp was starting, and I decided to go. I do NOT regret this. The first night of worship, I raised my hands for the first time infront of people, and I felt so alive. God spoke to me and said Taylor, I love you, and I will always be with you. I hear God tell me this everytime I worship now. It's such an amazing thing.
The next school year was starting up. I was on fire for God, but something happened. I was sitting in my room, and I thought I heard God speak to me, but what I later on found out is that it was the devil speaking lies to my head. I thought God had told my who I was to marry. Now, it might sound just a bit odd hearing that, like why would that be bad that she thought she knew who she was going to marry, all girls get like that. If you know me well, I'm considered a hopeless romantic, and when I hear stuff like that, it blows me away. Well, I thought God had told me that, and I didn't like this guy, and still don't. I mean, he's an amazing christian, who is a family friend, but still, it was a lie put in my head. I took it literally, and it didn't bother me at first, but later on, it really got to me.
I started to think, wait, I don't want to know who I'm going to marry. And why would God stick something so heavy on me if He knew I couldn't take it? I started to freak out over this, and I still don't really know why. But one night, instead of cutting or anything, for some reason, instead of going to God, I chose something the world would choose. I chose to make myself throw up. This didn't become some like big addiction, but it did get stuck in the back of my head. I remember that night, a friend called me, right after I did that, and she said, hey is everything ok, do you want to hang out, and I said I felt sick. I really wish I would have gone with her. Instead, I chose to sit there, and cry.
About a month past, and I realized that it was most definitely NOT God that spoke to me, that it was the devil putting thoughts in my head, and it confused me. I got past that, and started to regain my strength with God again. But I ended up getting into a relationship once again. This guy is still my friend, and he's cool, I just don't know why I chose to get into a relationship again, when I knew that it would pull me down in my relationship with God, and in everything else like school, friends and family.
I ended up breaking up with him because I felt convicted. I knew I wasn't supposed to be in this relationship, but I didn't trust God, and just chose my way once again. So I waited until we both got hurt, and then ended it. I really wish I would have listened to God, things would have turned out a lot prettier if I would have.
He kept asking why I broke up with him, and I said because I just don't want a boyfriend. I needed to keep my priorities straight. Well, I started to hear things at school. Things like he was saying stuff about me. I still don't know if everything said was true, since I attend a school that spreads rumors like no other, and they end up spreading like wildfire. What I would hear were things that would make me mad. I got so angry one day, that I just ran in the bathroom, and started to cry. That night, I did something that most people, including myself, would think that I would never do. But I did do it. I just let my thoughts take over, and control me again. I allowed the devil to gain a hole just big enough for his toe, and I allowed him to make the hole bigger and get inside of me.
That night, I started cutting. I couldn't believe what I had done. It's not something I would do. But I did it anyways. It later became an addiction to me. I couldn't stop. If I ever got one single thought of doing it, I would just go do it. People would say, cutting helps the pain go away. But people who say that, most likely have never done it before. Because, if you do cut, yes, it does have you stop thinking of what's going on, and makes you think of the pain that's going on right then and there, but the five cuts you've done, later turns into 50 cuts, and gets deeper and the numbers get higher each and every day you live. Soon, scars might heal, but memories will remain forever.
Your life starts to revolve around cutting, and suicidal thoughts will be all you have. You'll soon start wearing things to cover up your cuts, and you won't know what to do anymore. It'll take over your thoughts, and later, your life. That's why I'm so thankful that I serve an amazing God. He is merciful and is always there with open arms waiting for us to come running to Him, no matter what we've been doing.
When I did it, I tried to talk to someone, to help me stop, but they didn't seem to care much, and so that made it worse, and I cut again. I tried to talk to someone else, and they cared a little more, but it wasn't what I wanted to hear. So, my addiction grew. I finally gave up on trying to talk to people, and just held it in. I didn't want to turn to God because I was so ashamed. I was living a life on fire for Him, and I just completely cut Him off from me. I ended up talking to one more person. And she told me the words that helped me calm down. She helped me get through it all. Even though she would talk about it when I didn't want her to talk about it, she still helped me through everything, and I thank God for her everyday. One morning, I woke up, and I just felt a sense of peace over my life again, and I was truly happy. I told the girl that I felt peace again, and she freaked out. She said that night when I was asleep, she really felt God tugging at her heart to pray for me, so she stayed up all night praying. I was just full of happiness. I told her thank you, and was overwhelmed with joy. Ever since then, I've been living the path God wants me on, and I have not once thought of cutting again.
Sure, I might look back on my past every once and a while, but God is helping me through this, and I love Him so much for always being here with me, through the thick and thin, He's always there.

Hebrews 13:5b
"Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you."