My name is Vicki, born in Pennsylvania in September, 1968. In my short life I had endured quite a bit of abuse; I had been raped by a male acquaintance of my mother's at age 5, then verbally, physically and sexually abused by my older brother from ages 7 to 17, and raped twice by an uncle at age 19.
As a result of the sexual abuse and violence that occurred, it led me into a path of destructive behavior and a life of utter confusion and feelings of inadequacy.
I firmly believe that due to the abuse and sexual violence endured, it resulted in me dealing with many problems and psychiatric issues.
From an early age I struggled with feelings of inadequacy, low self-esteem, anger and hatred toward men. As a child I was in therapy, a bed-wetter, was attracted to girls, had strong desires to be a boy and often dressed as a boy. As I entered my teen years, which were very difficult, I endured a sexual identity crisis, dealt with self-destructive behavior, developed anorexia and bulimia, was an alcoholic, dabbled in drugs, was in and out of therapy and entered the Marines.
By early adulthood I continued therapy, was causing self-inflicted injuries on my body as a way of coping, in and out of Eating Disorder Units and psychiatric hospitals, dealt with suicidal tendencies, bouted with numerous suicide attempts, was diagnosed with a chemical imbalance, clinical depression and Borderline Personality Disorder (BDP).
By age 25 I had self-injured my body by cutting and burning (1, 5" scar & 1, 4" scar from 3rd degree burns & over 250 scars from cutting). I had been involved in various relationships (dysfunctional, abusive, one night stands), led a homosexual lifestyle, was in a gang, had an abortion, claimed bankruptcy due to high medical bills, was on psychotherapeutic medication (17 pills daily), had battled with mental illness and was in and out of psychiatric hospitals.
As I approached 27, I was dependent on psychotherapeutic medications, totally exasperated and felt as though I was just existing and taking up space. I was at a point in my life that although I doubted anything could be better, I was looking for my life to change.
Although I thought I had tried everything possible to get better, somehow I was still open for help. It seemed that whatever I tried that it was only good for a few hours, a day, sometimes if I got "lucky" it lasted a couple days.
I was not brought up around church or anything godly. Although I doubted a lot of things about God, one Sunday in March of 1995 I was invited to church and reluctantly went. It was my first time going to a church in over 15 years, and this was no church like I had ever been to. >From the moment I stepped through the doors, I sensed something different.
When I walked into that church in New Jersey I remember sensing such love and peace. (I honestly thought it would be over once I left). I wasn't quite sure what my beliefs were, mainly Agnostic, as I spent most of my life blaming God or questioning Him why all this happened to me. I was at a point of my life where I was not ready to be let down again.
All I knew was that when I walked into that church, I felt great and didn't remember feeling so much peace like that before. And I knew it was real. No medication made me feel this alert and alive, I knew it just had to be real.
I wanted so much to be normal but had no clue how to do it, as everything else I tried proved a failure. After going to that church I asked God to make himself real to me. Within days I noticed that I was mor
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