Wolfesque Perseverance

[Okami]

Disclaimer: There is mature content in the following testimony. It is not suitable for younger members, and I would advise only the older and more mature members read it.


Of Muddy Paws on the Concrete Road

Where does one begin their testimony? I ponder this every time I give my testimony, whether it be in the private confinement of a dorm room, or given in front of many people as a speech. I have done both, and yet still have trouble maintaining how I go about testifying to what God has done in my life. The first place to start, in that situation, would then be birth. I was born; what more is there to it? All too much, such as my being premature, and having right hemiplegic Cerebral Palsy.

There’s not much to my childhood years. I remember my parents’ decision to allow me to find religion, but only if I wanted it. It was that I could decide for myself what was right for me. I wanted nothing to do with any of it, hating church as I grew up. I also recall my parents’ separation, divorce, and eventual remarrying on both sides. That was a time where I suddenly went from being the only child, to becoming the exact middle. (Having one younger brother, one younger sister, one older brother, and one older sister) In the same sense, however, I was still kind of the only one, because in a household at my mom’s, it was almost always just the three of us.

It was in those years that I had moved from one side of the state of Michigan to the other, and where I met my first true best friend, “Kitsune.” We have been friends since our fourth grade teacher paired us up, going into our tenth year.

That’s just about the typical childhood of any person, these days.
In the summer when I was eleven was when things for me let loose. Being curious, I began searching the internet about sex. I stumbled upon pornography for the first time that day, and from that moment on, became addicted. I would turn to it in continuous curiosity, want, and eventual “need.” As I grew older, I found that masturbating to the images and videos was a release. From life, from stress, from whatever I needed at the time. Pleasure was my master.

At fourteen, I attended my first Christ in Youth conference. For me, going to it was just to be with my older brother, since we were new to the church and I didn’t know anyone. I was reluctant to even go at first, not really liking church, after all. But I reluctantly went, and actually had a good time. I felt the Spirit’s calling to me for the first time during that week. The next weekend back home, at my dad’s, I was baptized. 7/31/05. I got baptized with one of my new church friends, my brother, and a few others. Looking back, I don’t think I really knew what I was doing when I committed myself to Jesus.

This began my life within the church. At the same time, I led a double life. I continued in the life of pornography until two years later. It was at another CIY conference that I was convicted. It was here, also, that I confessed said addiction to my youth group. Upon my confession, several others came out, too. I was not alone. I went through a series of personal tests, like staying off the internet and not masturbating, for the rest of the summer.

As school approached for my junior year, I became fearful, doubtful of God. As I entered school, I quickly became depressed, longing for my old addiction to manifest itself in my life yet again. It was the known and comfortable. Without it, I felt trapped. I continued to stay away, but my life fell apart. Everything changed on September 30, 2007. I remember the day at church clearly. In youth group we talked about David and Goliath. I asked for prayer with my oncoming depression. In the church service, we talked about salvation. I cried a lot in church that day. When we got home, we ate lunch and then after, I went for a walk out in our woods.

That walk is where everything fell apart. I cried out to God, but couldn’t hear His voice. I wasn’t listening anymore. The fact was that everything seemed to be falling apart in my life. I no longer had the control, nor the pleasure I desired. Sitting atop a hill, something gleamed from the corner of my eye. It was a piece of glass. And with that piece of glass, I scratched my wrist.

The next day I returned to school, pushed away my friends, cussed them out, and fell deeper into despair. That night, I wrote a suicide note of sorts, that I was falling apart, and sent it into the Christian Anime Alliance Prayer Room. It was here that my best friend Kiku saw it, reported it to Kitsune, and the two of them combated me among others, in the thread. I read back on the thread recently, and I realize now that even that time wasn’t my darkest of nights. The thread was a huge debate and argument festival, and it is to my regret that it ever became as such.

I said I was okay, but knowing, I never truly was. I was putting on a front for everyone, pretending it was all alright. Things would only get worse from there. I told my mom about the cuts a week later, too ashamed to face myself. I went into Christian counseling, was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder, and put onto medication.

I had Myspace messaged to the organization, XXXChurch, about being weak in my commitment to stay away from pornography, and how I had cut myself. To this they told me to stay strong, and pointed me to HeartSupport for my self-injury. Spiteful of my counselor, I made everything worse. My self-mutilation went from scratches to bloody cuts. I began to masturbate again around this time in October. It was not, at first, what I once enjoyed, but a pain-filled, nauseating experience. One day I showed a friend my carefully bandaged arm, and she directed me to the organization, To Write Love on Her Arms. I read the story of Renee Yohe, soaking it up. I took to heart the meaning of love, and that of hope. However, in my next moments of despair I found myself with a mechanical pencil, carving “LOVE” into my right wrist. It was my first major suicide attempt, and the only one I have full memory of.

It was at the same time that my great grandfather passed away. It seems now that I cannot think of one event without the other, they were so intertwined. It has been said that I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder due to these intermingled events. To this day I can look at my wrist and see the O, V, E of what used to be there. It reminds me of where I’ve been, and how God has brought me through. Overcome.

It was in March that I looked at pornography yet again, and in doing so, permanently crashed my computer. I think of it now as God’s way of saying “No more!”

The injuries never got any worse than those. But they didn’t stop until that next May. It was here that I was discharged from counseling, after showing much improvement. The next month we went, yet again, to the Christ in Youth conference. For the first time, both of my youth groups found themselves together at a conference. Founder of XXXChurch and co-founder of HeartSupport, Craig Gross was there to speak at one of the days. He gave us time to write our stories on a notecard, collected them, re-passed out the cards, allowing for others to read theirs, if they wanted, to the crowd. I prayed the entire time that mine was not read, and it was granted.

Next, he went through each of the individual categories that HeartSupport deals with, and for each one, asked the people struggling with said issue to stand. Then he would pray over the standing ones in the crowd. Having told my youth group about my struggles the night before, I went to stand when he called out for the self-mutilators to stand. Instead, I fell back to my seat, sobbing. In my place, my youth group rose, stood over me, and prayed.

It was within this same week that I received my calling into ministry. It was a time of night where we were called into repentance, Greg Frazee singing David Crowder Band’s “Remedy” over us. We were front row for the first time that night, and with the call to repentance I stepped up, knelt down, and prayed. I sobbed, begging God to forgive all that I had done. That’s when all went silent and I heard His voice. He said something like, “Go and heal the broken, the eating disordered, suicidal, self-mutilators, and addicted.” It was a gentle command. I told my youth group that night, and was yet again prayed over.

[Okami]

For the following seventeen months I would be “sober” of self-injury.

That next November was my eighteenth birthday, and with it, I got my first tattoo, on my left wrist. It's a representation of my life and my beliefs; that while it may be hard, you can always rise above the situation.

The spring semester of my senior year came and went, and with it, an A+ in Introduction to Psychology. It was a simple reminder that God wanted me in the field. As I waited for the fall semester of my freshman year of college to come, I spent some time in the Bible. I was helping out a suicidal friend when I found myself in the book of Isaiah. I came across the passage of 61:1, “The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me; because the LORD hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek; he hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound.” The first thing to click in my head was my call. Everything fit right into place. So I spent the next week preparing a design, and had it tattooed to my right wrist, just above the deep scars of O, V, E.

It was in the December of this past year that things took a turn. I came crashing down, without ever truly recognizing it. I began to hear voices, see shadows that I now recognize as demons, and feel them, too. They possessed me, pushing aside the Spirit. My medication suddenly went defunct. I could see, feel, and hear the demons. Those in my head chanted, “My name is Legion, for we are many.” Just like in the story of the demon possessed man in the Bible, the one that slashed himself with stones.

I didn’t know anything was wrong until one day I woke up with scratch marks and cuts on my right arm. This could have been any normal day of relapsing back into self-harm. Only, there was a problem with that theory. I had no recollection of how the cuts on my arm came to be there. In all of my history with self-mutilation, there had never been a time where I did not know where my wounds came from. Never have I been afraid more in my life. Of course, at this point the voices in my head, the things I was feeling, and the grotesque creatures I was seeing, made sense. Everything clicked and came together. I stopped taking the medication immediately, and took time out alone to exorcise my own demons. There is nothing more frightening than having to pull a legion of demons out of your head. But I did it.

I finished out my first semester in college better than I had graduated high school. I had 4.0’d my college Introduction to Psychology course. For that, I was proud. On Christmas Break I got my third tattoo, down my left forearm, which says, “HOPE IS REAL.” I copied the style as closely as I could to the To Write Love on Her Arms’ logo. It is a thank you of sorts, a reminder to myself, always, as well as representation to the organization, which has become dear to my heart. It is my favorite piece of their Vision Statement. (Today, I serve at the Street Team Forum as a moderator as another way of saying “thanks for helping me.”)

The battle was not over, however. Self-mutilation was brought back into my life soon after I got rid of the demons. I would fight with myself whenever my roommate was not around. One night, the agony was unbearable. I took a pushpin and slashed my inner left ankle. As the blood rose from three parallel cuts, it was as though a rooster crowed in my mind. I quickly covered the wound with a bandage. Later, I paid for the consequences, limping from the pain. I’ve since lost track of when this event happened, only to say that it’s been a few months since the incident. I continue to grow stronger, but just as any other addiction; I know it will take time for the psychological wounds to heal.

So here I stand. I’ve lived with a mild form of Cerebral Palsy, a six-year addiction with pornography, eight months of self-mutilation, and a demon possession. I’ve fought with Major Depressive Disorder for three years now and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I believe now that struggling is God’s way of making us stronger. He proves this to me through a form of psychosis, a burning in my scars of self-mutilation. It is a reminder, that I am stronger. That I have overcome. This ugliness has been made clean by the blood that was shed during Jesus’ crucifixion. His scars and stripes bear all of my pain. He used every single one of my so-called failures, and turned them around to become His glory. And may that glory always be His.
I’ve been following God’s will for my life ever since He made it known to me. I fought for Psychology class in high school, and passed with a far better grade than I thought possible at the time. I looked for colleges knowing that this was a ministry I was going into, not just some job as a counselor. I chose one with both of my goals; I am currently double-majoring in Bible/Theology and Psychology/Counseling.

Just as I thought my testimony was ending, I realized it was just beginning. The other night, I was reading to my roommate this written up version of my testimony, to get her take and opinion on it. She stopped me at the 2008 CIY conference and asked me what year it took place in, and where at. When I told her, she kind of look shocked, before telling me she had been there. We narrowed it down to the fact that we may have met in the past without knowing it, that we worshipped together, and that my youth group was the “annoying one” that took their spot for front row during one of the nights. She may have been up to three rows away when I received my calling into ministry. I do not know what God plans to do with this newly learned information, but I feel He’s got something up His sleeve.

“For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” ~ Jeremiah 29:11, NIV.

He’s the rescue in the blind darkness, the comfort when all is lost. I pray you realize you are not alone.

[Midknight74012]

I believe I said this somewhere with a CAA member. Even the most traumatized person can find strength in the Love of Christ.

Philippians 4:13 I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

Seems to me your living proof of that.

[LadyRushia]

I know I've told you this before, but you are one of the strongest people I know. You've fought much bigger fights than I have and you're still alive and kicking. It's rather inspiring.

[Okami]

There’s something heavy that God has placed on my heart. Contradictory to that, it has become something so light as Christ has comforted and soothed me in my frustration and doubt. I’ve made mention to it many times in recent weeks, that I would get around to opening up about what it is.

God has called me to celibacy.

It has been three months since God began to discuss this prospect with me. Close to three years have gone by since I have looked at pornography, but I couldn’t shake masturbation. I refused to stop, believing I would never be able to. Five months have now gone by that I have been entirely abstinent.

I had never considered a life outside of a future marriage, which made me shocked and upset when God mentioned celibacy to me. Much of it was my own lust, how could I live without sexual pleasure? As I began speaking with others, it became clear to me that “single meâ€

[Midknight74012]

*whistles* Very Impressive, Kady. FIST BUMP

[Atria35]

I have to say, that's incredibly awesome! Not only to be called to such a special thing, but to be trying to follow it with all your heart. It's awesome to hear that it's going well for you!

[TopazRaven]

You are an incredibly strong woman Okami and your story will never cease to amaze me! I'm so glad you're doing better and have found your true calling in life! I congradulate you on your choice to be celibate, I believe in you, you've already beaten so much I know you can see this through to. I'll openly admit it's something I could never hope to do. My mind is to dirty and I really long for a family someday. Not now, but someday I hope. I think about it to much at times, I know I shouldn't let it run my life. I'm just kind of afraid I'm going to end up alone with only my cats for company. Anyway though, I'm getting off track here. This is about you, not me! I just wanted to let you know I find you so inspiring! You've been through so much and your connection with God leaves me with awe. You've actually heard His voice! Should I never come back to this site again, I don't think I'll ever forget you!

[Warrior 4 Jesus]

Wow. You're an inspiration mate. Good on you! You are victorious in Christ. Such a great testimony encourages us and reminds us that we all struggle and we all have sin that we need to bring to Jesus for him to overcome. Thanks so much for sharing and being truely honest (that's not a surface testimony there, it's the real deal). I'll be praying for you. Congratulations on finding your call in life. It's going to be a tough journey but it'll be so worth it! Keep living for the King!