The point is, though, that it's obvious that I'm not quite as "healed" as I would like to be at this point. There are some complications with the new medicine I'm trying, and the lifestyle changes that I'm trying to make are not as easily implemented as I had hoped. But that's no reason to lose hope.
I know that I am not as religious as I should be. I don't read the Bible and I don't pray that often. But I still believe. I also know, however, that my spirit has been wounded over the past few years, and that I need to make steps towards healing it. I know that turning to the Lord is the answer I should come to, but it's hard to think that way when you're a Lone Wolf thrust into the world. Twenty-one seemed so old when I was sixteen, but now that I'm here, I find that I still really don't know much of anything. It's frustrating.
But, in the aftermath of my humiliating fuss, after my friends had removed all the liquor and knives from my home, someone shared this verse with me.
"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 29:11Even when it seems like there is no hope, no possible point to living on this wretched earth anymore, I need to remember that at least someone somewhere out there has a plan for me. It's hard to think of God when you're busy sobbing hysterically because you really just don't want to exist anymore, but... it would probably help. Because I do want to exist. My to-do list is not yet completed. I have a lot of work left to do.