I had accepted Christ at age 13, and my first introduction to psychology was a James Dobson book, "Preparing for Adolescence." I was shocked that he condoned masterbation in there, because I always thought that was sinful (since it was lust). That was when I was in a Baptist Church in the late 70s. I struggled through my adolescent years always being the outsider. I was rejected by my peers because I was poor, on welfare, and unattractive. The only thing I was popular for was to pick on. I never thought anymore about psychology, except that it would be humiliating if I had to "be in therapy" because people would think I was crazy (like my mother). Then as its popularity grew, I thought, "Maybe it's not that bad." I even took a psychology class in high school with the hope of becoming a psychologist. Before I finished high school I had to move in with my grandmother, who is best described as a "Granny Clampett" (from "Beverly Hillbillies"). She was strict and tough, but that was good in a way. However, she was manipulative and controlling, too. I finally made it through high school, a year later than I should have. Then my adult life hit.

I had never truly been prepared for adulthood, since my grandmother worked around the house all the time, and my mother couldn't communicate with me very well. My aunt and uncle were despised by all of us, since they were the primary ones who verbally abused us. They tried to offer some kind of discipline in our lives, but we wouldn't listen because they would call us names. My uncle was the worst culprit in that area. So, my primary parent was the television set. However, on the flip side, I was the baby and became the most spoiled one, by my grandmother. That was one of her ways of manipulating me. But I was not given any responsibility for anything, the whole time I was growing up. So, my childhood was filled with a lot of conflicting messages, and, what some would call, "injustices."

After being indoctrinated by psychology's acceptance in society, I began wondering if my childhood could be "fixed" somehow. Thinking I needed "help," I started in psychotherapy when I was about 18 or 19. I didn't go for long, because they told me things I already knew; things that my family had been preaching at me for years--"just do what you're supposed to do, whether you like it or not." Still feeling empty and dissatisfied, I went along with my life for a year or so, and had started attending a new church that met in a school near my grandmother's house. I really liked the church and the pastor was a really nice guy. He had a gentleness, and quietness I had not seen too often, and that made me want to come more. I had met with him for "counseling" to tell him all my woes, and for the most part he gave me the Word, but he also gave me a little book called "The Bruises of Satan" by Carroll Thompson (available at Christ for the Nations). He had attended CFNI and spoke of their "Deliverance" class that Carroll Thompson taught. That was my first introduction to Christian counseling. I can't really remember what was in the book, because it's been so long. but I do know it dealt with the past & childhood pain and trauma.

After a while, the church sent me down to Christ for the Nations, and I was there for a year. But there was still something burdening my heart. I was still depressed, began acting out a bit, and breaking the rules. I returned home (to Grandma's) and got a job in a bakery. I gained weight, becoming more and more depressed. I couldn't figure out why. So, I jumped into nearly every class the church taught on "self-help." I thought I needed more self-esteem. But something was "gnawing" at me; that didn't seem right. They offered the Rapha teachings on "Search for Significance" and "Codependency." Still nothing. I was still lost in depression and chaos. I couldn't hold a job for more than a year, from the time I was old enough to work, and that didn't change throughout my life. Sometimes, I would be paralyzed in my bed and couldn't get up, therefore I would either miss work or was tardy. In 1991, after the death of my mother, I checked myself into the hospital psychiatric ward. I was diagnosed with Acute Major Clinical Depression. The supposed "expert" on psycho-drugs placed me on Prozac. It turned me into an airhead, and did nothing for my depression. My life was still chaos; I was still out of control. My mind was in disarray. I couldn't focus nor remain consistant with anything.

As a result of my hospitalization, I was told to go to counseling through the government sponsored, Comprehensive Care (now North Key). I started going there, then stopped after I guess less than 6 months. I was not progressing any further than dwelling on my problems. I wasn't getting any answers, just lists of affirmations and pity. After about a year, I again checked myself into the hospital. The second time, they gave me Amitriptyline and that knocked me out for two days from one 25 mg pill. I started back into counseling, still feeling uneasy about it, again only dwelling on my selfish problems and woes, and more lists of affirmations. At some point in time I was prescribed Paxil, which made me run stop signs, cry, forget (and I still can't remember) things, and again I was an airhead. Because of my memory problems, I can't remember all the times I have been in counseling, but I know it's more than what I've mentioned. But anyway, I got tired of being used as a guinea pig, so I stopped the counseling and drugs. During this time I was studying theater in college, and couldn't stay focused on my studies, would miss class, and still was a total mess. Because of the pressures involved in auditioning, and the guilt and condemnation I felt for being a failure, I "somehow" developed two other disorders-- Anxiety Disorder, and Borderline Personality Disorder. During my time in college, I strayed from God. I had not only been relying upon psychology to "save me," but I had been believing the lies of the prosperity and positive confession teachers. But again, with those, there was that deep dissatisfaction and inner "gnawing" at my spirit that something was not right. But instead of listening to my spirit, I listened to the false teachers. But their formulas and theories didn't work. So, I blamed God and began blaspheming Him. I quit school and tried to work, but was fired for my tardiness (I saw the company psychologist for a short time, as well). I then returned to counseling, and they gave me Neurotin, Effexor, Celexa, and then returned to Paxil, accompanied by more affirmations. Nothing worked. I finally applied for Social Security Disability.

After I had lost my job, I was forced to move in with my sister, who has Schizo-Effective disorder, not only to keep myself from being homeless, but to help her get her children back. She supported me while I waited for my Social Security to be approved. While I was living there she and I had to go through "family" counseling to make sure the kids would be placed back into an acceptable environment. Now, I absolutely adored her kids, so I had no problem helping her with them. But I didn't realize that I had taken on the role of my late grandmother--controlling. My sister and I would "butt heads" when it came to the kids. I guess my role was like the father, disciplinarian and chaos control. Now, for someone with such a chaotic mind, I leaned toward ultimate control. I couldn't stand chaos and I became rigid and legalistic in many ways. However, I still was not serving the Lord. During the time of living with her, I checked myself back into the hospital. It was like a vacation away from the "family," but again, I had to go back into counseling. That didn't last long and I was still given Paxil. I didn't take them, though and I quit going to counseling after a few months. That "gnawing" was back. I couldn't figure out why nearly every time I went to counseling, that "gnawing" in my spirit would come back. I started smoking, to self-medicate while living with my sister. She smoked constantly, so it was a common smell, and I liked it.

Last year I visited my Vocational Rehabilitation counselor and expressed some very negative attitudes toward working and authority. He told me that I needed to go back to counseling...UGH!!!! As you can see, by this time I had been given so much counseling, that I was very resistant. He said he wouldn't help me find work if I didn't. So, off I go again. My first session, I was extremely defiant, refused to fill out the paperwork, and was a raging idiot. By this time, I had grown very hard, obnoxious, bitter, prideful, arrogant, and full of rage. I had a temper, and told people off in very graphic language. So, my family would have to "walk on eggshells" around me. I was usually less aggressive with other people, except this therapist. This time the therapist was, what she called, a "reality" therapist. She asked me a series of questions, like, "What do you want out of life?" In my defiance (which she couldn't discern), I told her I wanted to be rich and famous. But I would have settled for rich. After a few more sessions, she told me that I was delusional and had grandiose thinking. I had always thought of myself as a practical person. I knew reality from fantasy. But I was just being defiant and a smart alack. In my pride I thought, "How dare she say that about me!" All my other therapists gave me a pathetic ear, and words like, "That must have been so hard." I was just letting her know I didn't want to be there, but I needed to get back to work. However, what she told me, literally shook me to my core. I thought I was going to lose my mind. I was always the one everyone depended upon when there was a crisis. I was a "stablizer" when things got tough. I didn't spend my money carelessly any longer, and I had been working on many areas of my life. So how could she have said that? Because of what she said, after being smoke-free for over a year, I turned back to cigarettes to calm my nerves. In September of 2004, I had started reading the book "The Seduction of Christianity" by Dave Hunt and T.A. McMahon. It was exposing the lies of the prosperity, positive thinking, and psychology teachings I had believed. So, I had my therapist coming at me from one side (God has used donkeys before...lol), and this book destroying everything I'd been taught to believe is right. Oh great, more chaos!!!

After a few more sessions with my therapist, she began telling me that I either had ADHD or was Bipolar. Oh, wonderful, more disorders!!! She didn't understand about the conviction and working of God in my life at that time (and I didn't either). However, I didn't believe her, but she told me to make an appointment with the nurse practicioner, so I did. The nurse didn't agree with her. I have a disorder called Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome which I told my therapist and the nurse about. It effects my hormones. My estrogen is lower than my testosterone levels, thus the aggressive tendencies. I kind of gloated in the fact that my therapist was wrong. But I was still prescribed Strattera and Buspirone, which caused my heart to race, so I didn't take them. I haven't been back to the nurse, either.

Well, I finally finished the book, after about a few weeks. It was hard reading that my entire belief structure was a lie. Everything I was taught that God "should" do for me, and psychology "would" do for me, was based in the vain, deceitful philosophies of men. But the "gnawing" in my spirit had been confirmed as the Lord trying to warn me to stay away from those teachings. When I closed the book, I felt convicted, and then the Holy Spirit came into my room. The Lord showed me who and what I was, a sinful worm, and who and what He is, the most holy, righteous God of all. Far superior than I could even dream of being. Then the Lord brought down His gavel of judgment and declared, "You're guilty." I was guilty of pride, arrogance, bitterness, and exalting myself higher than even God. I was guilty of blasphemy, hatred, and self-love. When God says that you're guilty, there's no refuting it. I felt His conviction, but there was no condemnation, as many times before when I would repent with worldly sorrow. Before, when I would make a profession of repentance, it was an act of my own self-righteousness, and there would be a voice in the back of my mind that would say, "You'll do it again." And I did do it again. But that voice wasn't there, and this time, I couldn't claim that I did this in my own stength and power. This was the conviction of God, and the working of His grace. I had to look down in shame, because I realized how evil and vile I really was. In my arrogance (fueled by affirmations), I didn't believe I was "that bad." I didn't kill anyone (except in my heart, and in our self-righteousness, that "doesn't count" because we didn't physically do it) and I tried to be nice to others. But all those things, as well as all the pain of my childhood, meant nothing at that moment. My righteousness, my excuses, my justifications were filthy rags... rubbish. The pain of my childhood was nothing compared to the grief I brought the Lord. I had to realize my sinfulness, and how unrighteous I truly was, before God could do His work of grace in me. He extended His precious gift of grace, allowing me to have the honor and privilege of repenting before Him. When I was finally able to utter the Godly sorrow that filled my heart, and repent, oh, the joy, the freedom, and the peace that filled my heart and mind! Peace finally filled my mind. HE SET ME FREE!!!! Every time I tell this, I can't help but be in awe of the power of His grace. It truly is the most powerful and life-changing gift of God. I no longer need self-esteem, my esteem is in Him, and He is all I need. I no longer need to seek glory or riches, I glory in Him, and He gives me all that I need. But the greatest thing of all, I no longer have to fight to be righteous in my own power, He did it all for me. That is such a relief. His yoke is easy and His burden is light.

At my next session, my therapist saw the change. I was calm, not defiant, and had a peace. When I told her that God got ahold of me, immediately, she attacked my faith. She asked me, "Don't you think it's delusional and arrogant to believe that Jesus is the only way to heaven?" I simply said, "No." When I tried to expound more, she cut me off. She said, "Well, not everyone is going to believe the Bible," and I said, "I know." She proceeded to tell me that I had to be tolerant of other religions, because we can't tell if were wrong or not. (What little she really knows.) However, I had never heard anyone, other than myself, talk like that. I thought she had over-stepped her boundaries, but I remained surprisingly calm. I honestly believe, this may have made some kind of impact upon my therapist. She couldn't explain it with psychology, nor understand it in her own mind. Since I've just been 'spewed' from the "whale of arrogance," I could see that she wasn't "confident," she was really arrogant. She may have even been a bit jealous because it wasn't her words of wisdom that changed me. But she still saw the difference. When I got home, I put in a tape of Keith Green and Lamb that I made from the old LPs I had, and the Lord filled my room, and it was as if He said, "Well done." I could have said more to her, but in His grace and mercy, He loved me, and said, I pleased Him. When God says "Well done" it's like a river of cold water rushing over hot coals. Talk about the joy, and esteem!!! I didn't need any esteem from man or myself, God was lifting me up. His delight was showering over me, and talk about a "confidence" booster.

What all the years of psychology could not do, God did in an instant. I have never been more at peace, than I am now. The Lord has brought me from an unwanted, despised, rejected girl to a woman who has the privilege of communing with the Most High God of the Universe. I'd say that's a pretty big "step up" from where I came. Any confidence is not in myself, but in His grace, mercy, and love. It's all in Him. I still struggle with things, but I don't need self-esteem, I need Christ-esteem. He is my counselor, my comforter, and my friend, nothing can compare to Him.