Recently I started thinking a lot about the past. The bad parts of my past. I have been able to forgive and move on with it all and nothing about any of it bothers me anymore. However, lately, it's been on my mind. I feel it's been put back into my mind as a reminder of what I've been through, not to haunt me, but to show me that I can use it all to help others. I feel a calling to use my experiences to reach out to those in need. Although, can I do that? Is it too late? When I was in twelfth grade I took a psychology class and loved it. My teacher came up to me during class and told me I should look into studying psychology in college. Aside from my English teachers who loved reading my fictional writings he was the only other teacher who saw potential in me and that meant so much. I really had an interest in becoming a psychologist but my father quickly shot that dream down when he reminded me of how bad I was in school. He wasn't wrong. I didn't study much and didn't apply myself, but even when I did I had an awful time remembering what I had learned. Becoming a psychologist would mean spending many years in college for my doctorate, or at least a master's degree. I was barely a C average student. School was not for me.
My third grade teacher was mean and ruined my thoughts on school and on myself. She was a very miserable person and from the first day of school wasn't afraid to show which students she was going to favor and which she was going to hate. Now as an adult I can understand she must have had something seriously wrong with her to be so cruel to children and I've given her the forgiveness. I also hope that someone, at some point, had the nerve to stand up and report her because I certainly didn't. As a small child who was already living in an abusive home I already thought the worst of myself. So when a teacher called me stupid and told me I would never amount to anything I believed it. I already believed it but her words gave me more reason to believe it. From that point on I stopped trying. What was the point? I was stupid and I was never going to be anything of importance so why bother? Yeah, now I realize how much I wish I could have handled all of this so differently. I wish when someone told me I couldn't do something I would have proved them wrong. But no, that's not how I was as a child. If you told me I couldn't I believed I couldn't. I was stupid, after all.
I hated school but I hated being at home too. As I wrote earlier, I was in an abusive home. I really want to be careful with what I say here because I do not want to upset my father, who had worked so hard to change. Whatever happened in the past is completely forgiven and we've moved forward. No matter what, I always had a solid roof over my head, plenty to eat, and all the things I needed and even selfishly wanted. I'm also thankful to have parents that were always there. My dad could have walked away, as many dads do, but he stuck around. He realized his mistakes and fixed them. But as a small child the abuse was there. Physically and mentally. I experienced things that a small child should never have to experience.
I'm not sure if my depression is linked to any of the stuff that was going on in my childhood but for as long as I can remember I never felt happy. I felt useless, miserable and sad all the time. There are still days when I feel like I'm going to mentally come crashing down but I'm able to handle it better. I no longer feel the urge to kill myself as I used to. My faith in God has helped me through that. I used to feel like I didn't belong here but realized that since God gave me life then He must want me here. Although others have made fun of me for my belief they don't realize that knowing and trusting in the Lord is what keeps me going every single day. I also realized that no matter what others think of me they aren't the ones I will be faced with at Heaven's Gate. They are not the ones who have the final Judgement over me. I am who I am. I've lived through pain and suffering, I've made my own mistakes. I'm so much of what others do not realize. I never told many people about that third grade teacher. I never even told my parents. I don't speak often about the abuse I experienced and witnessed as a child. There are so many other things I don't speak of. But I feel like those things, even if they don't currently play a part in my life, could benefit the lives of others. There are so many people suffering. I want to help.
I will be 41 in a few weeks and going back to college to get a psychology degree isn't impossible and it is never too late, however, it's not something I could consider. That's something I wish I would have gone for years ago. I believe that's just a calling I missed. Plus, I don't really need a piece of paper telling me I spent years learning about the minds of people. I have the experience. I lived the life. I believe that, in itself, is huge. So, what can I do? How can I be the person to help others? Why am I feeling this push to do something? I don't have those answers but I've been praying about it. God is calling me to do something, I can feel it. I'm just patiently waiting to see where all this takes me and I'm excited for it!
