Walking Through The Fire

The following is something I wrote in April of 2008, a month after I moved back home...

What it comes down to, I guess, is that somewhere along the way I lost every bit of confidence that I ever had. I've lost the confidence that I had in my own judgment of others, I feel betrayed and trampled on and played by people I trusted and gave my heart to. And I don't know how to let it go, how to move on from the hurt and the anger. I think that is why I turned to drugs. Mainly pot, I smoked every morning noon and night, before school and work, after school and work, constantly. Then after *Mr. Smith* and I broke up, he had introduced me to coke and to the person I could get it from, and I started using that too. I didn't use it to go out and party, I sat in my apartment in my bed alone and tried to numb myself of what my life had become. I reached a point where I told my mom that I couldn't believe this nightmare was my life, and I still can't. I know that hate only brings ME down and it is unhealthy for a person who is already diagnosed with major depression and anxiety. I just don't know how to stop it.

Now, in December of 2009, I am proud to say that my life is much different than it was when I wrote that. I have walked through the fire; not always gracefully, not easily, and I am sure it won't be the last time. Nonetheless, I have learned more about myself through the trials and tribulations in my life than I have learned through the peaceful times. I have found strength that I didn't know I had. The moral of the story, it really is how well you walk through the fire that matters most.

Abbie