Invisible

Last night, I suddenly just felt like drawing. I got a sudden rush of inspiration. The three and a half hours that I spent on this drawing gives me so much pain. It went by in a flash, and I realized how much this topic means to me. The picture has a story. I spent an hour and a half putting that story onto paper. It was so worth it. Although I have incredible pain in my neck today, I believe that this inspiration was from God. These issues are real, they're not just a few people anymore. We need to come out from under the rock we've so carefully placed ourselves and do something about it. Go out and share the love that God has so graciously given you.

This story may be triggering, depending where you are in your life. PLEASE if you find it triggering, do not continue reading. Go for a walk, listen to music, talk to someone, do anything to distract yourself. The reason I am posting this is so that people who do not realize how big of an issue this is can see it. I love you all.
*This story is purely fiction, based on real problems. I would not wish any of the things in this story on my worst enemy. If you're dealing with any of this, talk to me, talk to a friend, talk to someone. We're here for you, we'll love you, we'll never give up on you.*

Miss Perfect

"I was the girl that everyone liked. I was the perfect daughter, got perfect grades and was every one's friend. I had super model good looks. My boyfriend was Mr. Popular. Mr. Popular and Miss Perfect. Who wouldn't want my life, right? Wrong.
No one understands. They just don't get it. I'm so broken. How could I get out of this trap I'd gotten stuck in? I wish everyone would drop their expectations for me. Life would be so much easier...
My parents had always had high expectations. They taught me from a very young age that to be successful, you had to be liked and you had to work hard. So that's what I did. It started when I was twelve. I desired to please everyone. I pushed myself to talk to everyone, the people I liked and disliked, the people who scared me and comforted me. I had my group just like everyone else, but the difference was that everyone wanted to talk to me. They wanted to hang out with me, be my friend, date me, get help with homework. I was one of the smartest in my grade. If I didn't understand something, I would spend my afternoons, evenings and sometimes nights studying and researching. Coffee became my best friend. No one could tell how tired I was, and I was fine with keeping it to myself. It seemed harmless at the time, and my parents were impressed with my success. That's all that matters, right?
When I was thirteen, I had my first boyfriend. We had so much fun. We would go swimming, play baseball, watch movies, talk for hours on the phone. We were the perfect couple.
When we hit high school a year later, he went on to play football. He turned into Mr. Popular. And of course, I became a cheerleader. When I turned fourteen, things started to change. For my whole life I had chocolate brown hair. I was ready for a change, so I dyed my hair blonde. Everyone loved it, and it went along with my bubbly, go-get-'em attitude. That's not the only thing that changed. All of a sudden, I was growing. I got taller, and heavier, and curvier. It all seemed to happen at one time, so now I had the "perfect body", whatever that is. I learned how to do my hair and makeup just the way I wanted it. I had people coming up to me to ask me if I had considered modeling. I was flattered, but it made me self conscious at the same time.
The first couple of months of high school were great, everything going according to plan. But my life came crashing down on me just before Christmas. My parents, the perfect couple, were getting a divorce. I had been too busy to notice the fighting. Always doing school work or cheer leading or hanging out with my boyfriend. I should have noticed it. I could have done something to fix it...but I was okay. Really. I got over it. I stayed with my mom while my dad moved across town. My mom started getting really stressed out which made her strict. Her stress made my stress level go up. She expected me to be better than I had been before. To do better in school, have more friends, get a job.
Doing dishes one day, I had picked up a knife at the wrong end, slashing my hand open. Instead of cleaning myself up or telling someone, I just watched the blood drip down my fingers. I finally felt relaxed. So a week later, when I just didn't seem to have enough time in a day, I decided to try it again. I mean, it had worked the first time, so why not? I took a knife and ran it along my leg. It would be easy to explain. "I ran into a nail sticking out of a wall." Easy as pie. It felt so good that soon I was doing it once a week. It released all the stress that had built up inside of me.
My boyfriend started to get bored in our relationship. He wanted to try new things. So instead of going swimming, we would make out. But that wasn't enough for him. I couldn't bear to lose him. I loved him so much. We'd been together for a year already, it was meant to be, right?
He was so angry with me one day for being a "goody two shoes". So I gave in. I lost my virginity in order to win him back. I wasn't ready, but it kept him happy.
Things started to get too tense with my mom, so after two months of living with my mom, I moved in with my dad. He was so easy-going with rules, and he was always working. I could do whatever I wanted, I had the house to myself more often than not.
My boyfriend started to come over frequently because we could be alone at my house. He was under a lot of stress from school, and I understood that, so when he took it out on me, I just waited for the storm to pass. He would come over, pacing and yelling. He would get so angry sometimes that he would punch the wall. A few times later, that wall became me. Once he realized what he had done, he was all hugs and kisses. He would apologize and force make-up sex.After a while, I expected it. There was no more going out to games or watching movies. That was all history. I had all the excuses to explain the black eyes and bruised arms. No one dug any deep than my excuse. I was perfectly fine with that.
I quit cheer leading to be able to hide the bruises. No one asked for an explanation. I noticed myself starting to gain weight from lack of exercise. I got frustrated, so I stopped snacking throughout the day. That wasn't enough, so I exercised constantly, ignoring the pain. That still didn't make me happy, so I stopped eating all together. If my dad came home, I would pick at my food, so he didn't ask any questions. Every morning I would hop on the scale, where I knew the number would determine my mood for the day. No one asked why I was dropping weight so quickly, and I was fine with that.
Just before school ended, I found out that I was pregnant. I panicked. This was not my plan, I didn't want a baby this young. It was all wrong. That afternoon I got an abortion. No one knew about the baby but me. I got home and cut my leg seventeen times. I just wanted the guilt to go away. No amount of tears or blood could fix what I had done. I started dreaming about my baby. I couldn't seem to lift the weight of depression off of my shoulders.
I tried to distract myself. I decided it was time for a change. I dyed my hair black. I pierced my belly button, then my eyebrow, then my lip. The cutting got worse. By now, it was every day, several times a day. I stopped going to school. Instead I slept all day and cried all night. No one asked about me. No one cared.
My boyfriend came over one day, handed me a package of drugs and told me to be happy already. I did the drugs and we went through our usual routine of beatings and make-up sex. Every time he came over, he brought drugs with him. Beatings, drugs, sex. This was a normal day for me now.
One night, just a few months before school was done, he came over drunk, angry at me and the world for everything imaginable. He brought two of his buddies with him, also drunk. They cornered me and gave me the worst beating I had ever had. There was blood everywhere. They all raped me that night and left me in a crying, bloody heap on the floor. This was the only night I wished my dad would come home and save me. Once they left, I cried all night, mascara staining my face. I made cut after cut into my bruised body. Why wouldn't the pain just go away? I finally fell asleep.
I woke up, but the pain was still there. I decided I couldn't take it anymore. No one loved me, I had no future, I was worthless. I had to end my life. It was the only way out. I took a bottle of pills out of the cabinet, it would all be over soon. At the raw age of fifteen, I was finished. I wouldn't have to suffer anymore.
All of a sudden, there was knocking on my door. I quickly pulled on a hoodie to hide my battered body and went to answer the frantic knocking. No one was there. I found a letter taped to the door. "Sophia" was written in neat writing on the envelope. I took it to my room, ripped it open and started reading. This is what it said:

My Dearest Sophia,
I love you so much. I long for you to see my open arms and hear my loving voice. You've been avoiding me for so long, I miss the little girl who used to laugh and smile and talk to me. It hurts me so deeply to see you in so much pain. Please come back. I will lift your burdens from you. I will carry you. I will give you a brand new life. You don't have to live like this anymore. I want to make you new. This girl you are now is not who I made you to be. Please come back to me. I love you with all of my heart.
Your friend,
Jesus

I ran out of my house. I ran to the nearest church I could find and gave the youth pastor the letter. With tears streaming down my face, I cried, asking him what I was supposed to do. He replied, confused, with, "Sophia, sweetie, this is a blank sheet of paper." But I saw the words so clearly. This was when I knew that Jesus was real. I ran into his loving arms full force, no hesitation. He didn't lie to me, he never abandoned me.
I went to rehab for a year. I got my high school diploma, and now I'm working hard every day to get to where God wants me to be. It's been a hard ten years, but I'm not giving up. I'm fighting until the finish."
Jacob looked at me, tears in his eyes and reached for the red velvet box on the table. He opened it to reveal a beautiful ring.
"Sophia, will you marry me?" He said for the second time.
"After everything I just told you, you still love me?" I asked him, wanting to make sure he knew what he was getting himself into.
"I have never loved you more."

I hope that, like me, you felt incredible pain reading this story and looking at this girl in the picture. I don't have to look at the rest of her body, I just need to look at her face. The pain on her face makes me want to pick her up and protect her from the rest of the world.
Let me tell you, there are so many people struggling with cutting, anorexia, drugs, abuse, neglect, everything imaginable. We need to do something. If you're going through this, YOU ARE NOT ALONE. And you are loved. I love you. There is no one in this world who is not loved by at least one person.
God is going to do incredible things with you. He loves you so much. Please, please run into his loving arms without hesitation.
God bless,
Ariel