I'm a creative person. I have been drawing and writing stories since I was a small child. It's actually an emotionally painful experience for me to NOT be able to let those energies out. 

So it would probably come as no surprise that I was addicted to entertainment and stories, but let me back up and tell you where all of this came from.

My childhood was basically nothing but one abusive situation after another. If it wasn't my dad abusing my mom, it was my sisters' husbands abusing them. I don't like abusers.

When I was eleven, my mother and I finally left. Left my sister and her kids, who were basically like my siblings, and moved to West Virginia. Suddenly I was alone with no friends, no yard, and my stay-at-home mom suddenly had to work.

I kind of checked out at that point. 

I started throwing myself into my imagination a little too much. I'm not completely sure that escapism was my only issue, as I have always been intensely creative, BUT...It's a theory. 

Add that to panic attacks and you get a recipe for a completely checked out kid, living in her own little world, and not really functioning in society. My counselor even said I had arrested development. Fun, fun.

The thing is, though, I had always wanted to serve God. My mother's side of the family were mostly Christians. But I  couldn't, because I was crippled by anxiety and OCD, and an addiction to creativity that kept me from actually going after that relationship.

It got so bad, I would actually deceive my Mom, disobey, refuse to spend any time with her or the rest of my family. I just wanted to sit and write and draw, ALL the time. It became a huge problem, until the spring of 2013.

I was having a panic attack, the kind where you think something is a sin that really isn't, but you still have to give it up because God says? Yeah, those were the bane of my existence back then, and I wasn't even a Christian! But Mom said something that made me realize how wrong I had been, just towards her, and the conviction of sin came. It got rid of the panic attack, because now I had something REAL to be sorry for, and BOY was I sorry.

I told God I was sorry. That's really all I said, but that sorry completely changed me. 

I'm not the same person I was. I was mean, selfish, deceitful, disobedient, and lazy. I'm not anymore. Not that I'm perfect, but I'm changed.

And I love God. He got me through the fear and OCD. He still helps me with it. Recently, I've even been able to almost completely ignore it altogether! I've given my whole life and heart to him, fully surrendered. And I'm never going back. 

I don't want to ever be the person I was back then. I hurt so many people with my bad attitudes and refusal to participate in life.

I don't want to be mean like the abusive fathers I've seen. I'm learning more every day that God isn't like that at all. He is gentle and sweet and kind. I want to be like him, and he is making me like him.  

I don't struggle much with my creativity anymore. I have to be careful not to over indulge in entertainment and nonsense, careful to keep God first, but it's not too hard. After all, he is the one that makes all of those things worth it to me now. It's all just empty without him. 

Now thanks to him I am writing Christian stories, and illustrating for Sunday School materials when I'm asked. 

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