After graduating high school, I wanted desperately to move out of my parents’ house, thinking that a new home would bring me a safe space. However, it was also drilled into me as a child to not let myself get into debt. So, I stayed at my parents’ house for the first part of college and saved some money.
I started a part-time job right after high school to help pay for nursing school, so I hopefully wouldn’t have to pull out any loans between that and my scholarships. I loved the job, but that didn’t change how I felt overall (depressed). After being at my job for some time, my boss decided to play matchmaker, and he set me up with his son.
I felt obligated to ask John out (my boss’ son), even though I was content being single (or so I thought). So, one night I asked Elisabeth one of my many “hypothetical” questions. She told me what information to put if I were introducing myself and asking someone out. That same night, I sat down and wrote a bullet point email of who I was, why I was contacting him, and asking him if he wanted to date. I sent it over Messenger, and to my surprise, he said yes to going out for coffee! I was scared out of my mind. The first meet up was awkward, but it went well. He definitely went in for a hug though when we first met, and I went for a handshake.
My boss was enthralled, and I was terrified. How will I know if he’s the one I’m supposed to marry? How do I even know I’m not supposed to be single? More on how I found the answers to these questions later.
Back to college. I did manage to make some acquaintances and a few friends in nursing school. I was still having daymares and nightmares, still feeling depressed (and still hadn’t asked for help), and desperately wanting to move out of my parents’ house. The daymares and nightmares were intense, the depression weighed heavy, and I wanted to move out because it felt like my mom was trying to suffocate me in family activities and openness with the family that she made me feel obligated to do. She would pry when I didn’t want her to, and she would schedule family get-togethers last minute, then say that my family wasn’t that important to me if I had already made plans. My mom and I had a very rocky relationship for a while.
As I was working and going to nursing school, and trying to figure out dating, Elisabeth moved to Texas so we could be roommates for a while. My grandma owned a rent house in town, so she let us stay there for a couple months with cheap rent – until we found bed bugs and decided to move out. I was going to move back in with my parents for the remainder of college, but my friend, Elisabeth, found an apartment for a pretty affordable price just a week before I was supposed to move back in with my parents. I prayed on this offer for a couple days, then let my parents know that I would not be moving back in with them. My parents were hurt and quite upset that I let them know on such short notice. I let them know the situation, and they were still quite upset and not understanding. I think I could’ve handled the situation a little better, but I think they could have as well.
I moved in with Elisabeth, to my parent’s dismay. They let me know how inconsiderate it was of me to not tell them I wasn’t moving back in, although I did let them know as soon as I knew. My mom was disapproving of Elisabeth and I’s friendship regardless of that whole situation, stating that we were too close physically. At one point, my mom even asked me if I was lesbian.
While all of this is going on, I am still dating John, scared of what will come next. I told him I wanted to save sex for marriage, and he agreed. Good, because that would’ve been a deal breaker for me. These daymares and nightmares I kept having were often very sexual in nature. My parents had also stressed how boys and sex were gross, and when they said “except for after you’re married,” it seemed like an afterthought. I was really just putting off the idea of sex. I wanted to be single, but I also didn’t know if that was the most God-honoring option for me. I hoped that if we got married, we could slowly work our way to sex, not just suddenly do it on wedding night.
One summer (while still living at my parent’s house), I went to work at a Christian summer camp. I got poured into spiritually while I was working there, and I prayed desperately one week about getting married. I knew that John would be the one I would marry if I were to get married. But that was the question: Was I supposed to get married or stay single? God brought a scripture from the Bible to mind that basically says if you can’t control yourselves, get married. At this point, I realized God wasn’t just talking about if I had desires to have sex with John (which I didn’t have at the time). God was also talking about my desire to masturbate to feel good. That was sexual, and I felt I had no control over my desires. I also felt God was telling me that no matter what my decision (marry or stay single), I could glorify Him. I decided from that day forward that I would say yes whenever John popped the question. This was about six months into our relationship.
After I returned from that summer camp, I knew I wanted to marry John. But I had no idea when he was going to propose. However, I had my own stuff to work on.
I came back from summer camp, returning to work for the same boss that set me up with his son. We are now in fall of 2019. I chug along at another semester of nursing school. My friend Elisabeth moves to Texas and we move into my grandma’s rent house in mid-Spring 2020. My mom and I had a rough relationship, Elisabeth and I were doing some weird things that turned into something sinful, I was (still) struggling with masturbation, sometimes I would purposefully deprive myself of oxygen to quiet my mind (I know, that’s self-harm), and my depression was intensifying, as were my daymares and nightmares. I think it intensified because I had pushed everything down for so long.
While I lived with my parents, I had one or two episodes of my legs becoming paralyzed for a short period of time while I was in my room studying. My parents never knew about that. When I moved out and all of my emotions intensified, so did my physical problems. Sometimes I could barely walk because my legs felt heavy, and other times, I couldn’t move my legs at all, sometimes for an hour or more.
When I was at my grandma’s rent house in the spring/summer of 2020, John proposed! I was super excited, but also scared. I was still terrified of sex, and with the daymares and nightmares being so intense, it was hard to start to associate sex with good things. I also hadn’t figured out why my legs would give out sometimes, but I knew it was associated with intense emotions. And I knew that getting ready for a wedding would cause a lot of intense emotions.
Not too long after John proposed, Elisabeth and I moved out of the rent house and into an apartment. And now that I was in an apartment away from my parents (and my landlord not being a family member) and with someone I felt understood me, my emotions naturally said “let me out!” My depression hit full force, and my daymares somehow became worse. And yes, the legs becoming paralyzed thing just kept getting worse, too. Episodes became more frequent and longer lasting. But I almost always had some level of control over when it would happen. For a while, my legs would only become paralyzed at the most convenient times, such as during chill time at home. But that wasn’t always the case.
In the apartments, while my emotions were running rampant with no one and no thing to check them, I became overwhelmed and only saw one way out: suicide. I knew suicide was wrong, but my feelings of utter despair and oppression weighed heavy, and I could see no other way out. I had seen a thing in the mail about burial insurance and kept it. I had started hearing voices telling me to kill myself. I had a very difficult time truly enjoying things, even things that I enjoyed before. Before I knew it, I had written letters that sounded like suicide letters. I didn’t know if I wanted to commit suicide or run away.
After taking some time to contemplate it, I decided I wanted to go to work that evening, go take my evening test for nursing school, then drive away and never come back. I would leave the letters on the bed or something so Elisabeth could find them and disperse them. I would maybe just drive, maybe go to a body of water and try to drown myself, maybe go get some rope. But then God intervened.
To continue reading my story, go to College Part 2!