Any similarities to persons living or dead is purely coincidental (standard:Inspirational stories, 1645 words)
Author: Anthony Estrada	Added: Mar 24 2007	Views/Reads: 3239/1933	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
This is a story about an 18 year old boy who learns what it means to have hope

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

me. I felt sick inside half the time. I didn't have the guts to tell 
her that I cared more about her than anything else in my life at that 
point. See, to me that was pathetic: The fact that I cared so much 
about this girl when I knew for a fact that she didn't feel the same 
way about me. What was wrong with me? I began to sink deeper into a 
deep pit of rage and self pity. I wasn't rationale in my thinking or 
actions. I cut myself. I began to spend most of my time outside of 
school alone listening to music that might be played at a funeral. I 
wanted to die. See, being suicidal does not mean you hold a gun to your 
head every night while crying in front of a mirror. Being suicidal 
means that just the idea of having the ability to take your own life at 
any given moment, provides comfort to you. In the back of my mind, it 
was always an option. If it gets too bad, I can end it. Thoughts like 
this often crept into my mind like a stalking predator. I needed help 
and I found it in a place that I had doubted my entire life. 

One day I reached my breaking point. I was wallowing in my own misery
when I heard it. The sound of distinct yelling that was all too 
familiar to me at this point: Mom and Dad screaming at each other. Now, 
normally this did not bother me but on this day in particular I began 
to panic. Ok now, my teenage sisters are pregnant, the girl that I care 
about hates me, and now just when I think things are starting to calm 
down with mom and dad they're back at it again. I panicked and went to 
look in my room for some pot. No such luck. Alcohol? Eh, too risky to 
go downstairs and steal a bottle of scotch right in front of my 
parents. So, I did the only other thing I could think of doing at the 
time. I prayed. God if you exist, then give me a sign. Please let me 
know that you give a shit about me. Ok...so I didn't see lightning 
bolts or some angel come fly out the sky. But I'll tell you this. At 
that very moment after I said that prayer I felt a peace come over me 
that I had never experienced before in my life. I felt three hundred 
and sixty five days of self torment lifted off my chest. For the first 
time in a while I felt a clarity that I thought could never exist in my 
life. I was not on drugs, and I was not intoxicated by Jack Daniels. I 
was locked in a moment of relief that had simply not existed literally 
a second ago. I am a strong person, however, by looking back on the 
state of mind I was in at that point in my life, I have come to the 
conclusion that there is no way on earth that I had the power to 
mentally give myself that kind of relief. I thank God that I didn't end 
it. 

Often times we simply cannot conform to the fact that we are not in
control of our lives. We feel as though by conforming to the concept 
that there could be a God it somehow makes us weak or ignorant. This is 
how I used to think until life hit me over the head with a 
sledgehammer. To me, there is no turning back now. I look at the past 
and realize that although these times were not easy, they helped shape 
me into a stronger man. I thank God for that. Perhaps, everything 
happens for a reason. A miserable time in your life could potentially 
help someone out down the road just by you simply talking about it. I 
feel alive today. I have hope for the future despite the fact that I 
know life can change in an instant. I feel as though I walk alone in my 
journey at times, however I know that no matter how deep I sink, God 
will be there to pull me back up again and give me a peace that man 
could never create. For this I am thankful. 


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