A year later, my dad's position at the TBCH had been eliminated, so He sought the Lord's will for his future career path. This had a huge impact on my family and me because this mission field was our home; it was the place my siblings and I were born and raised. These people weren't just neighbors or coworkers; they were our family. My dad not only had to find a new field of ministry, but also a new place for us to live.
While my family life was secretly unstable, I had an amazing church home with a solid group of friends, most of whom I am still close friends with today. Being 16 years old and a junior in high school, my friends were my life! As long as I had them encouraging me and holding me accountable, everything would be fine, right? WRONG! The new mission field that my dad was called to ministry was at a local church. His new title? Youth minister. This went over real well, considering I was a junior in high school and was at the prime age of my spiritual growth at my current church home, alongside my best friends. It doesn't look so good when your own daughter won't go to your youth group, though... Needless to say, I was forced to leave my home and my church home, all at the same time. The only positive thing in my life at this time was that I just started driving, which meant a little slice of freedom from my current reality. This little slice of freedom was the vehicle Satan used to lead me into my prodigal daughter days, unknowingly removing myself from under my earthly father's hedge of protection. I didn't realize it at the time, but my heart was continuing to harden, each and everyday. My mom was getting worse with her bouts of depression and the methods in which she used to ease her pain from this mental illness that plagued her. I was hateful towards my mom, and I hated the person she had become. I hated her illness and the way it was destroying my Godly family, more and more each and everyday. In addition to the instability of her highs and lows, I experienced my first heartbreak my junior year, in which I felt like my world had completely ended. My home life, church life, and now my love life was a wreck. I wanted to ease the pain, but I didn't want to be like my mom. I would force myself to not sit around and mope, rather I would go out with my new "school" friends. Going out with these new friends, I realized that they acted differently than me. They all spoke differently than me, dressed differently than me, and behaved differently than me. In fact, we had nothing in common! In order to fit in, I had to make some changes. Even though I was a child of God, I was not living as though my Father was the King of Kings. Instead, I was trying to please anyone and everyone else. Why not? At least I was getting attention somewhere, not to mention that I was having a BLAST! Going to the church of which my dad was the youth minister was the last thing I wanted to do. I felt as though I was being judged with each movement I made. I began to harbor bitterness and hatred for such a place. Instead, I wanted to go out with my new friends and partake in my new, "secret" lifestyle, one in which I could forget the things in my life that caused me grief and heartache. Slowly but surely, my heart became more and more hardened, full of anger, resentment, hate, and jealousy. I was jealous of anyone who had a "normal" mom, a mom who WANTED to spend time with them. All my mom wanted to do was sleep and be unconscious. One night when I was a senior in high school, it was just my mom and me, all alone for the night. My dad, sister, and brother were all away at a Church retreat. My mom began to hallucinate. She began running in and out of the house. I tried to calm her down, in spite of how scared I was deep-down. She kept thinking that bugs were everywhere and scary creatures were coming from the fireplace. I finally got her calm enough to call my dad, but his phone didn't have service where he was. I was so scared, and I had no one to turn to because, after all, we were the "picture-perfect" minister's family. After a couple more scary episodes with my mom my senior year, I decided to move out of my parents' house and in with my grandparents. I could not go on any longer pretending that we were a happy family, being enablers to my mom who was slowly but surely killing herself with each pill she took. I only had about a month left of my senior year, and I was 100% M-I-S-E-R-A-B-L-E! I felt as though I was beginning to get depressed, too, but I didn't like admitting this inevitable truth because I didn't want to be anything like my mom. I felt that admitting that I was extremely sad and didn't have any motivation to do anything meant that I would end up like her, and I just wasn't going to let that happen!
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