My "Life" Story Pt 7

Personal Change:

What was wrong with me!? Why couldn't I get my act together? Was my life really that bad? I wanted to change. I was so desperate for a place to finally call home. I was moved back to Longmont with the previous foster family, yet again, and started the whole "fost-adopt-searching-for-a-forever-home" process over. 

I decided that if I wanted something bad enough, I had to be the one to get it. I didn't know where to start, other than with myself. I hated who I was, so I decided to change whatever "that" was. 

My first step: I took myself off of all the medications the doctor and therapist had prescribed. 

*Disclaimer, I am by no means recommending nor suggesting that this is the answer for everyone! Doing so, can be very dangerous if not fatal for others. I am simply telling my story and personal accounts. *

I was on about 11 different medications that were for anxiety, depression, anger, and basically took whatever they told me to. I felt like a zombie majority of the time, and I personally believed none of them were working. I didn't like the way I felt while on them, and I was fed up. That didn't go over so well with my Foster mom, because by law, she was required to make sure I took them. We fought long, and hard, daily over them, but I stood my ground that I wasn't taking them. We came to a middle ground after informing my Dr, and agreed that if all my blood work came back normal, and I was chemically balanced, that I was done. A highly unlikely possibility.

My second step: Getting involved somewhere. I naturally gravitated toward sports, and softball was my new drug. I became active and was doing something I loved. I lettered my last 2 years of High School, and got the MVP award as short-stop, and being a pinch-hitter on the Varsity team. Between practices, and game days, plus being encouraged to maintain a 4.0 GPA if I wanted to play, it took up majority of my time. 

My third step: Church. I knew that I needed help, and I needed it bad. With all the homes I was in, I was told that "their religion" was always the right religion. I needed to find something that worked for me. I was what felt like, beyond repair, and if there was any hope for me, it would take something more than myself, and man. I needed a "higher power". I was willing to try them all, if it meant a "happy life". I went to a Youth Group on Wednesdays, and church on Sundays. I didn't really understand it, but it was a positive outlet for me, and that's what mattered. Plus, I had a crush on one of the boys there, even though I knew he liked my friend and barely knew who I was. I decided after about 6 months of doing this, that it was time to finally give my life to this "Jesus guy", and see if He was the real deal. I told God that if I was going to become a "follower" then He needed to do what He said He could do.  God needed to "prove" Himself to me. If He could really "fix" me, then I would 100% give my life to Him. After all, wasn't it His fault my life was this way anyway?

I went to my Dr. appointment to have my blood drawn, and have everything checked. Of course my Dr. was highly against my decision, and didn't think it was in my best interest. If I were going to stop taking my meds, then it would have to be one at a time, and slowly, over the course of several years, not cold turkey. It took about and hour and a half, and all my labs came back. I'll never forget the look on his face. He looked as though he had just seen a ghost. Completely dumbfounded and scratching his head, he requested I come back in a month, and have the same tests and more, done a second time, just to be sure.  My results were 100% level. Everything was normal, and perfectly balanced. The impossible had been done, and I never touched the pills again.