At the age of 32, this is my best handwriting. Close to ten years ago, four other Catholic campus missionaries and I were T-boned by a Mack Truck while driving to an end-of-the-semester retreat. I don’t remember a single day from the month that followed.
Last November before my 20th birthday, I planned on killing myself. I felt I was worth nothing and had no purpose. I didn’t know what to do anymore. I felt as if I were a robot. I was working 80 hours a week and sleeping the rest. I was so lost that I dug myself into a deep well of depression.
The story of Jesus raising Jarius’ daughter from the dead is one I come back to again and again. …How often I’ve been in the shoes of these angry, grieving family members, and how often I’ve been this little girl, pronounced dead to the world.
As I sat in the Adoration chapel, I tentatively laid out my dreams before God. My hopes for my vocation, my dreams to serve and create, my hopes for life-giving joy. But I was pulling back. I expressed my desire for fulfillment, but I did not dare voice how I hoped they would be molded specifically to my own heart.
I cannot remember a time before anxiety. When I was young, everything had to be just right, and I always had to be in control. As I grew older, the prevailing worry was homework - had I done it perfectly? What if I’d missed something? And then more diabolical fears crept in - and I do mean diabolical in the truest sense of the word. I spent years wrestling with crushing, exhausting, terrifying guilt in my spiritual life.
We must not forget that we are body and soul, and our bodies are a gift from God that we must not squander. It would be like if a friend gave you a beautiful plant for your birthday but you neglected it and let it wither.
“It was an ordinary moment on a mundane day when I realized that the darkness was back. I’d run into a friend who works at my doctor’s office, and as she checked me out, she asked how I was doing. I wanted to simply say, ‘Fine,’ but I couldn’t keep the tears from filling my eyes….”
“Every single day during the years I was abused, I went to daily mass. Even though I felt numb, I continued to go. I gazed upon the purity and love of Jesus, hidden within the white host, and I prayed that He would keep me safe there, with Him.”
“We all have different paths that lead us to God, don’t we? At the end of our earthly lives all of us will hopefully be able to look back and say, ‘Ah, so that’s why I went through that.’ For me that path has been depression.”
"On June 30, 2017, I journeyed to Waco, TX for a fun, summer getaway with a dear friend to visit the Gaines' Silos for the first time. On our way home, we were crushed between two 18-wheelers. Unfortunately, my friend did not survive, and I endured several severe injuries. After thirty days in the hospital..."
Meet Samantha. After enrolling at UC Berkeley at the age of 16, Sam fell into depression. This is the story of how Sam reclaimed her identity as a Catholic woman through a journey of hardship. We hope this story inspires you to ground yourself in what never changes.
"Dear Friends, I am an earthbound creature. I don’t just mean that I am a typical human who sometimes shudders at the idea of their own mortality and is caffeine-dependent to be functional before 9..."