Through the Darkest Valley

by Teresa S. Smith

All my life, each day was a chore. Everyday was bleak and difficult. I wanted to run away from my life. I was certain that I was worthless and someday people would discover I was a sham.

My youth counselors assured me that my dad loved me. It helped. They affirmed me. Yet, I didn't fully believe them.

The hallmark of my childhood was abuse: physical, verbal, and emotional abuse. During junior and senior high school, thoughts of suicide tempted me.

During college, I fell prey to a predator who sexually abused me for some months before I escaped. The predator was my youth pastor and mentor. As a result of this, I became deeply depressed and continued to have ongoing thoughts of death as a solution to my troubles.

In a sense, I began carrying a big stick with me. Whenever one small thing went wrong or I thought it went wrong I began to beat myself up. My brain would spin negative thoughts around and around until I became hogtied with the belief that "I might as well be dead." Yet, I was too depressed to kill myself!

A book on behavior modification helped me dispose of one big stick. But soon, I just created another stick to replace it. Gradually though, I've improved and instead of beating myself with the stick I now am able to set it aside.

For forty years of my life I have asked,"Why? Why me?" For the first ten years of my marriage I asked my husband, "Why do you love me?" "How could you love me?" In the midst of my recurrent depression and dysthymia (ongoing low grade depression) I often became verbally abusive towards my husband. I could be pleasant all day, but by the end of the day I could not stop spewing venom from my mouth towards him.

Over the years, I've descended into four bouts of major depression. On one occasion, I tried to hide my tears and upset from my husband as he was preparing to go out of town on a business trip. I didn't want to stop him, but couldn't hold myself together until he left. I retreated into the spare bedroom and curled up and cried. He found me there, gently wrapped his arms around me and promised me, "It won't always be this way."

The ongoing question of "Why" recently led me to change my career. I have become an author, telling my story of finding hope and healing. I wrote the book I had always longed to find - a true story with sidebars containing information about how to get where the person got. For many years other people's true stories sustained and encouraged me. When I share my stories other people are encouraged. I long to bring courage to others. Nowadays I work to spiritually guide people away from suffering towards hope and healing.

It took me twenty years to find and understand (in a limited human way) the connections and contrasts between God and evil, suffering and perseverance, faith and hope. I now am beginning to understand that God has placed people in my path who have helped show the way towards my healing. In a way, these people have been like guardian angels to me.

What makes the suffering worthwhile for me is that every time I go through a new form of suffering, seek God's help, and then tell others about it - I find that other people use my story to give them hope. Dorothee Soulle, author of the book Suffering, says that the road to healing begins with isolation (suffering) and then moves towards healing when we communicate with God and others. Healing happens when solidarity is achieved.

This site represents an uprising of people validating others, sharing powerful stories and bringing healing. I have found healing.

Keep moving on. It does get better.

I once believed there was no hope. I had no value and life was not worth living. Now, I have experienced and continue to experience, joy, happiness, and healing.