I wrote this in about 2010 for my baptism. My parents were there and this is the first time they heard a lot of this. It was emotional and beautiful for me. My family is not christian (yet!). So i put this just out there to give an idea of where i come from. There’s MUCH more that has happened, but not everything has space to be here. But this is the biggest thing that God has done for me. Saved me!
The story of how God got me out of devils hands/claws? (have to use my dictionary here and see the right word..) Yep claws it was.
So let’s just go waaayyy back in time to 1985, see that’s the year when i was born. Yes this is gonna be a really long story, but hope it’s worth your time. So just sit back and relax and maybe grab a warm drink or something?
Anyway, i was born in the end of august in rather difficult time for my country. My country was in the soviet union wanting to be free. And also five children in the family in that time meant, that well i got my sisters old clothes or whatever else was brought to us. And old toys. For example i’ve
never owned a Barbie. I had some cheap look-a-like called Anita, but she did just as well. We even made her our own clothes.
We lived in a house that my mom’s father (my grandpa) built. I have never seen my mother’s mom (grandma), but i remember grandpa only with one memory. He died when i was really little. And i am sad about that. My daddy’s parents lived on the same street as we did. You can figure where
my mom and dad met (right on that street).
So we had a two story (floors) building. With only three bedrooms. One for my parents, one for girls, and one for 3 boys. And well when teenage thing hit the eldest kids, they (my parents) figured the house is too small to keep rebellious outgrowing kids in one bedroom together. So they looked
for a new place to live. And that’s kind of a beginning of my long story. I could talk a lot about my nice little bubble that i lived in until i was 15. With my friends and playing and running around and camping in each others yards… but that would be too long story.
So i skip the nice childhood thing and go to my teen years. As a young girl i started noticing guys around the age of 14-15. Somehow i figured that guys weren’t pulling my hair just because they wanted to tease me :D Today, seeing as 10 year old kids have “relationships” and think that hide-
and-seek and tag playing is for kids (daah), then i feel sorry for them. Being so obliviously blue eyed and in my own little music and book world mostly, i grew up to have a better value system.
Well at least so i think.
This is so utterly random. But i just write as things come to my head. But at the age that i was around 15 i did get to know some guys. And well got my interest going. Why did they like me so much… i wondered.
So the house was small and we had to move. And they settled for a countryside house where everyone would get their own room. It was a complete childhood bubble bursting experience for me. I had to leave absolutely everything behind that i knew and loved. My neighbourhood, my friends, my school with teachers and classmates, even the loss of library and my choir, all that was so devastating. But nobody asked me unfortunately at that age. So we moved when i was 16 and in 9th grade, in october, when the school year had already started. And that was a mess.
At first day of my new school, i went to class and sat at the very back. Not wanting to be in front.
And then this khm, girl came in (i really wanted to call her something else), and just really started yelling at me because “who the heck are you that you dare to sit on my chair and this is my place and you better move yourself right now”… eye roll right now, but then, i was scared already because of so many new people after so many years of familiar stuff… and then this. Well it really didn’t went any better from there. The whole year i was like an outcast there. I got bullied by girls and got along with boys. Too good obviously, because girls were jealous. The same year i got diagnosed with depression and got antidepressants the first time. And also started on contraceptive. (which in general isn’t that important fact, but will be later in the story).
So since i really seriously got a shock from moving and all that, i really didn’t want to go to high school in that stupid new school. So i decided to take a bit of my mom’s advice and follow my mom’s side grandpa’s footsteps, well he was a baker you see. So i decided to go to this vocational school, where i got high school and a vocation too (I have papers to prove that I am a baker-confectioner), with three years. It sure seemed like a better option than that stupid school. :D But oh, was i wrong.
As a teenager i just wanted away from my parents and going to that vocational school that was in the capital, seemed to give me at least a bit of freedom. So i applied there, and got in. The interest in boys grew there. And i started smoking the first year of school. At first just a few puffs here and there, then a whole cigarette, then several a day, until i was hooked. And well it was only a year later, that my parents found out. Because i sneaked outside for a “walk” to have my smoking time, and had breath mints and stuff to cover up, but they figured it out anyway. And then that school also gave me new friends who taught me smoking. And drinking. And party party. Not that much or often, because i did have to go home with the last train at least. But still. Once i got home and felt so drunk, but my dad didn’t notice, when i stumbled passed him. Still amazed. And interest in boys just grew. So i started my first real relationship then. Real for me back then meant that we were together for over two weeks. Totally a relationship right… And it was so real that this guy stole my virginity. Stole meaning that he persuaded me so long until i agreed… i cried after that. And after four months i broke up with him, because i just couldn’t fill his sexual needs. I know it might sound awkward to listen to, but just get used to it, i’m open and as honest as i can. And i do like to talk/write you know :)
So anyway, there came boys, and they went. Most of them didn’t stay for long. And also all that time i was on and off with antidepressants and contraceptive. Otherwise i would’ve love to have a kid already when i was 16, but didn’t have a guy to be daddy for a baby, so i stayed careful (now i
am so glad for that :) ).
And moving on a few years, came this guy who i moved in with quite quickly. And he suggested that i could go to the university and since i was seriously hating my job then, i quit my job before i got into the university. And then went to try to two universities at the same time, both at psychology
field, but didn’t get in. My high school exam scores were too low to reach the acceptance level they required. And then i was unemployed. And i had no income and we were living from only his salary, which was real good at that time. But somehow we got into debt. He said that his company wasn’t paying him at the right time and some other stories. We hadn’t paid rent for a few months and sold some stuff to get money. And by that time, i had been with him for over a year. So with all that debt, i had to borrow money from my grandparents (dad’s side) and pay off the rent debt and utilities and we were forced to move to my parents house. And that just made my depression worse. I stayed mostly in my room, the door closed and only came out for a shower, toilet or eating. He went to work still.
And i desperately wanted a new beginning. Wanted to leave my parents house and all this debt and problems behind. And we figured out that we could go to UK to have a new start. Maybe that would help us to not fight with each other anymore or helps us to get better life or whatever. I just wanted out of my life at that moment. We had a lot of fights with him and i had had so many relationship fails already that i desperately wanted something to work in my life.
And we did go at 2008 december. (seems so long ago). At first we shared a house with some other guys. Just rented a bedroom out of a house. I was so depressed. And i quit my smoking there, and antidepressant and contraception at the same time (see now it was relevant). And all that because
we didn’t have enough money. He did get a job. And went to work, but we still had not enough money. And i got more and more depressed. Especially after quitting all those things. Just because we couldn’t afford them anymore. So i stayed mostly in my room, because those guys we shared
the house with were a bit weird. Smoking weed in the house and not cleaning up after themselves.
And then there was depression along with suicide thoughts… It just grew and grew. In my head I thought, why should I live if everything in my life just doesn’t work out. My relationship was still a failure, we yelled at each other a lot. I threatened to leave and never to come back. I often took some of my random stuff (packed to survive a night on the street) and run out the door and saying I won’t come back. And he followed me so many times. And I yelled at him on the street to leave me alone. I was so frustrated for him not helping me with this depression and just making it worse. If I want to be alone, then I want to be alone. And I found myself sometimes on a railroad bridge near our house, wondering whether to jump or not. Somehow I always ended back at the house. I don’t know how or why, but I went back. And it was just this endless cycle. I went to my GP there and she referred me to therapy. I got some help, but it helped only until I went there, and until I saw that this therapy lady cared how I was doing. I was really improving. But it was temporary. At one point we moved to a different part of London and got our own studio apartment. I was still unemployed.
And hadn’t found a job. I don’t think I tried that hard either. I didn’t want to live, why should I want to work then. I was still trying to run out of my life, taking my few things and just trying to end all this. Standing at a bus stop and debating on what would be the least painful and most efficient way to
end this miserable life. It still hurts that I thought this way… But i’ll try to tell you still. Anyway, we still yelled at each other, but in my twisted mind I thought, oh let’s have a baby! Maybe that will change things? So I had quit all the pills and was watching my eating and just preparing my body for that a bit. And reading some literature on pregnancy (Like what to expect before expecting..). And all this time still trying to end all this. And he was also being depressed and suicidal. And I had to cope with the both of us. Because I did care for him more than I cared for my own life. Several times, when I had run out and wanted to disappear forever, I had came back and just found him lying on the floor. I don’t know if he was doing some mind games and playing tricks on me. I slapped his face, checked pulse and breathing (that was there) and no reaction. Sometimes I just waited it out, thinking maybe he just passed out because of the emotional stress. I called an ambulance once, and they took us to the ER. He came around just as they arrived to our
place. And took us in anyway, after 4 hours waiting in the middle of the night, we didn’t want to wait any longer and went home. Never finding out what was wrong with him.
He also threatened me. Like locking himself in the bathroom with a big kitchen knife. And me being on outside having to manage that situation somehow. Or him taking all the pills from everywhere he could find around the apartment when I had run out again, and then I came back and he went to get them out in the bathroom. It was so horrible time and at one point I yelled at him so hard that I scared myself with my anger. I ran to the bedroom, slammed the door shut, and just collapsed crying just behind the door. Before that I had told my friend here in Estonia that I was suicidal. And she suggested that I talk with a pastor or a priest or something. She’s a christian. AND I told my parents that I had this trouble. And their response was “how could you be so selfish? Don’t you think what that would do to us???”, and then I disconnected the skype call and didn’t speak to them for a while. How can you say that to a suicidal person… I know now that they didn’t mean it like that… but at that time, it was devastating. Add another failure to my list… My parents really didn’t know how to say good things…
So after I had scared myself with my anger and collapsed down crying, I went online with my phone. On youtube, and searched “i can’t do this” and this song from Plumb came up in my search. This one:
and it really spoke to my heart. I just totally needed to hear that. I cried out to God then and there. I can’t remember exactly what, but something like the lyrics said “God, I can’t do this anymore… help help help!!!!”
Soon after that I did try to find a church close by. And after some searching, I did find a church. And they were having an event coming up called “Come as you are”. Meaning that they accept anyone, even if you’ve never been to church before. And well I hadn’t. Oh and in between somewhere there, we had gotten engaged with my boyfriend (then a fiancé). Thinking that would again change something.
So I dragged him also to that church event, and obviously now I understand that it wasn’t a coincidence that they were having that event then. And they received me with such kindness, that it just melted my heart after so much anger, hurt, sorrow and all that. And since I was unemployed,
I started going there every chance I got. My fiancé did came too some sundays, but mostly it was just me going. To Alpha course, to crafting club, to help with the gardening, to coffee mornings, to home group, to worship practice. I just loved those people there. And to this day they are the ones
who dragged me with God up from the mud. Like the psalm 40 says. :)
At one point I understood that my relationship with him was wrong and I said to him that we are only hurting each other and we can’t do this anymore. It wasn’t reasonable. I gave him back the ring. And broke it off. We both came back to Estonia, after being away for a year in UK. And I was
sad to leave my new friends and that church behind, but I couldn’t stay without any income. And we went our separate ways.
After that, a month I was still so sad and depressed from another failed relationship, that I just stayed in my room and watched movies most of the days. And didn’t eat that much, and lost 10kg in a month… Until people got me out of my room and involved in my current church. And it’s been
four years now that I am a christian. I still have a bit depression and loneliness left, but at least i’m off all the addictive pills and smoking and no alcohol either. I am recovering and don’t have suicidal thoughts. Did happen a few times, but now I know how to fight them. With Jesus. :) And I have now more friends in Facebook than I knew in my life before God. And I have more friends in real life, more than I had before God. I am trying to enjoy my life. But of course, we all have issues and baggage. That’s a small part of my baggage :)
There’s a story of God’s greatness and how He can change a hopelessness into a nice person :)
Not the end, but a new beginning every day. :)