5. I Found Life Again

Who would have thought I’d be here? Thinking that going to church and praising the Lord was enough to “live for Him.” Enough to be healed. Enough to be strong enough to choose peace and happiness over everything else. Enough to live a righteous life.

But here I am. Back in depression. Still telling myself: maybe I’ll forever be a sad girl. Still asking: how do I keep ending up here?

I keep making choices I regret—hurting myself and the people I love. I grip control in the wrong places and release it in the ones that matter. It’s giving messy. No self-respect, no confidence, no trust in God. And honestly? If life was a photo, this would not be my good side.

Why is it that when I want something, I don’t sleep until I get it? I poke. I push. I hustle. I wear myself out chasing it. But if it doesn’t happen the way I want it—or in the timing I demand—I don’t even want it anymore. And then I remember: oh right, this is why I’m in therapy. “Up the dosage on my antidepressants, please.”

So here I am, being brutally honest with myself. Yes, I go to church. Yes, I lift my hands in worship. But behind the scenes? I live in sin. God’s grace is sufficient—but not so I can just keep cashing in on it like a free pass. (Not a coupon code!) And now I’m left with the consequences of my choices. My control. My way of doing things.

The truth is, my sin doesn’t come wrapped in something dramatic. It comes in control. In saying I trust God while still writing my own script. It looks like halfway surrender—obedience without commitment. And the thing about halfway is… it doesn’t work. That’s the real conviction. Because when I live like that, I’m not fully with Christ. And when I’m not fully with Him, I’m not fully present with myself either.

Have you ever had that one issue that just won’t leave you alone? Fear. Delay. Procrastination. That same pattern on repeat. That thing you want so badly, but can’t seem to have—at least, not yet. You tell yourself you’re letting go, letting God. And for a little while, it sticks. The peace feels real. You convince yourself you’re okay with the not-okay. But then it creeps back in. The cycle resets. And suddenly you’re asking all over again: am I even worthy?

Then… two years later… you look around and realize you’re still stuck. Maybe God’s been trying to tell you something all along. Because clearly—you don’t have control. Not over people. Not over life. Not over anything.

Here’s my 411: I want control because I’m scared. Scared that if I don’t do enough, I’ll lose what I love most. Scared that if I don’t give my all—even when I’m running on empty—it’ll look like I’m ungrateful. Scared that if I put myself first, it means I’m selfish.

Yesterday, I sat with that. Like one sad girl does. I analyzed my life and relationships, hoping I’d find some kind of logical answer to the madness. But what I found instead wasn’t what I expected. God pulled me back to when I was around 14–15ish. It was 2009–2010. Life wasn’t perfect—I didn’t have a real pair of Ugg boots—but my heart hadn’t been fully broken yet.

I remembered myself happy, present, in love with life and its moments. Not worried about who I was or who I should be. Not worried about what was to come. Just living each day like it was brand new. Seeing the uniqueness in every experience.

It gave… life before social media, when everyone was focused on life itself. No one was trying to brand their identities or create picture-perfect moments for the world to see. It was skinny jeans, smudged eyeliner, $1 pizza slices, Jersey Shore, and way too many inside jokes that aren’t funny anymore but still make me laugh. Back when YouTube was just for music videos and searching up lyrics to sing along to Airplanes by B.o.B. Enjoying the song without realizing it was foreshadowing how I’d actually feel in the future.

Simpler times… as a 30-year-old would say.

I chose simplicity then. Staying up late with my best friend, eating Nutella sandwiches, talking about the guys we liked so much. An intimate connection without obsessing over what should come next. Letting love come to me instead of chasing it down. Waking up asking, “What do I want to do today?” instead of, “Where do I need to be?” Excited for what the day could bring—whether it was movies all night and texting until sunrise, or being out with friends at the mall with no money to spend, but the thrill of just meeting new people and making new memories.

So how did the unimaginable moments of hurt and anger that came after take that privilege away? The peace of choosing peace. The freedom of not assuming the world was ending just because something didn’t go “my way.” There was no “my way.”

This morning, I woke up different. I realized I don’t have to plan ahead to get ahead. My life won’t fall apart if I take things one moment at a time. It will be okay even if it doesn’t come the way I expect. What matters is enjoying what I have while I have it. Because 15 years from now, I’ll be reminiscing and wishing I had enjoyed it all a bit more.

Because the truth is, the moments where I was the happiest weren’t when I had it all. They were when I was fully present, allowing life to show me what it had to offer.

And now that I know that “life” is God, I found life again.