I have heard from many people throughout my life that you should always have your testimony ready to give in a moment's notice, but I have told very few my actual testimony. As we're getting closer to the Christmas season, I think it's appropriate to remind ourselves of that cheesy phrase, the true meaning of the season. As mushy as that is, I do think that is the best way to describe the Christmas holiday.

Being from Parkersburg, West Virginia, I grew up how most of the people in my area grow up, in the "ghetto." It truly is not a ghetto, but it's the closest thing we have to one. It's a pretty rough area with shootings being relatively common, and most are below the poverty line. This was most of my childhood, but I always went to church with my grandparents. I can't say as a child this really affected me as I truly don't remember a lot of my childhood, but since I don't remember it, I would say it didn't really set in until I was much older. I eventually moved in with my grandparents for reasons that I don't want to disclose on the internet, but I continued to go to church. At this point, I was in middle school, and I hated every minute of it. Most middle schoolers hate middle school, but I truly hated school. Most days I went to bed hoping that I wouldn't wake up the next morning because I didn't want to go to school. I had very few friends, and I was the target of bullying by pretty much everyone in my classes.

I eventually transferred to another school where I met my best friend. While this school wasn't much better, I'm forever grateful for her. I wouldn't know where I'd be without her, to be quite honest. In seventh grade, my depression first started, but it was relatively manageable. I hated school and didn't want to be around certain people, but I didn't hate the entire world, yet. In eighth grade, a series of events made me fall down the slippery slope until I didn't care about anything anymore. I couldn't care less about being alive. I figured no one would miss me, so what did my life matter. Depression led to self harm which eventually led to eating disorders. Lunch time in middle school was often spent in the bathroom throwing up what I just ate, refusing to eat, or chewing food and spitting it into a napkin so my friends wouldn't notice I wasn't eating.

Tenth grade rolled around, and I transferred to the great Parkersburg High School. I dated a guy off and on throughout eighth and ninth grade, but tenth grade was when my first real relationship happened. I played soccer from the time I was four years old until I was eighteen, and my boyfriend at the time had been on many of my teams. We worked out well in the beginning, and pretty sour in the end, but during our 2 1/2 year relationship I had gotten my mental health under control. I was doing pretty well, actually. I had graduated high school and started college. It wasn't until a long while after we broke up that everything turned for the worst.

I had done well in my classes, and I was dating a guy I thought was a fantastic guy. Thank goodness I ended that because that was rather scary there for a hot second. Everything seemed to be going in a good direction for me. I ended a relationship and became much happier with my life. OVU had just had Expressions, and I had participated as part of Sigma. During the course of the spring semeter, however, I had become incredibly depressed, and my anorexia was the worst it had ever been. I'm not going to use numbers as I know those can be triggers, but I was highly underweight. The last night of Expressions came to a close, and I celebrated with my friends how well our show had turned out. Little did I know that I would spend the next three days in the hospital being treated for malnutrition.

My hospital stay was literally the scariest time in my life. I have a grandfather who provides above and beyond for me and loves me more than he probably should, but yet here I was intentionally starving myself. I remember how hurt he was that I didn't love myself the way he raised me to. He was never mad at me, but he didn't understand either. I didn't expect him to, as how can you understand someone who intentionally deprives her body of nutrients. You can't. It was in those next few days I would find God in ways I never imagined.

I had always considered myself a Christian, but I guess I was lying to myself. I didn't remember a specific time I had accepted Christ, but I was sure that I had some time along the way. Laying in the hospital with only my phone as entertainment, I spent the next few days listening to more music than I can remember. I created so many Pandora stations that I still love to this day. The song "Arms That Hold The Universe" by 33Miles came on, and my heart broke into a million pieces. How amazing it is to think that we serve a God whose arms that hold the universe also hold me when I'm falling apart. It was in these painful, broken moments that I found my Savior.

To this day, I still struggle with finding piece with food, but that will come one day. What matters is that I put my entire faith in Christ. Somehow I will make it through this world, even if parts of it seem unbearable.