So there are a few different ways to look at turning 21 I guess. I guess I could mark it by my accomplishments, or evaluate my few years through various shortcomings. I'm not usually one to non-jokingly build myself up when I speak; indeed I'm actually usually prone to be more negative about the things inside myself, especially the thought processes that precede my actions... But I can see, and I have learned to find joy in my accomplishments and hope for the continuation of positive experiences in my life.
From age 11-16 I viewed turning 21 as being a bad-a college kid who didn't have to commit status offenses when she wanted to have fun with her friends. Then about 5 years ago I woke up in the emergency room of a hospital. I don't remember much about that visit, but the parts I have are vivid. My first thought, crap... now my parents know I've been drinking... What I didn't understand then is that even an invincible, limitless teenager (like myself) could become an alcoholic. I had the special predisposed genetics that sent "dang-this-is-the-bomb!" signals to my developing brain when I would have a drink, and it was cool when I was 12 to like the burning that comes from sipping on straight liquor.
A short 4 days after my 16th birthday, 1 December 2007, I drank an entire bottle of rum in about an hour, a small one, but it was still about 16-20 oz of this really cheap rum. For those of you who don't know what a drink is, a 1/2oz of hard liquor is considered 1 drink. And it takes about an hour for the alcohol dehydrogenase in your body to break it down. So in an extremely short time period I downed the equivalent of more than 30 drinks even though my mind blacked about about half way through the bottle, my body kept going, and my blood alcohol levels shot through the roof.
Somewhere between comatose and complete-heart-and-other-organ failure I was on the phone with my friend Jacy. She was semi-used to getting a drunk call from me every so often, but there was something different about this time. She knelt with her mom and prayed for me. Even though she knew that I might hate her for telling my parents that I was drinking, she felt that I needed help. An ambulance came and EMTs carried me down the 2 flights of stairs in our townhouse after my parents found me stumbling around my bedroom.
I woke up strapped to a hospital bed, among the blur that is my memory of that night I remember someone telling me that it was a miracle that I was alive, and my blood alcohol was over 5x the legal limit... somewhere between coma and death. I remember not even caring that I'd just escaped death, and then questioning why I didn't care. In the days that followed I asked myself what I was thinking drinking that much, and why the heck I survived that night...
I didn't understand then, and I still don't quite understand now why exactly impacting events like this one have to be in my life. How I'm the luckiest person I know escaping near-death situations, and having the best of friends to be examples to me when my head starts to straighten out. I didn't understand that the actions I was taking to try and control some emotions or give me an illusion of control over my life, were actually taking control away from me. I never thought I would be scared to turn 21.
Just a few weeks ago I felt some anxiety about becoming fully legal, the idea of being able to buy alcohol whenever I would want to just filled me with guilt, and hopelessness... Even though I have intense desires to drink sometimes, I know that my desire to stay sober is greater. So I found myself again questioning why? How can I desire something that I really don't want, with enough intensity to induce some anxiety? Well, that's how addiction works sometimes.
In some moments over the years I've forgotten just how simple the gospel is.
2 Tim 1: 6-10
6 Wherefore I put thee in remembrance that thou stir up the gift of God, which is in thee by the putting on of my hands.
7 For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.
8 Be not thou therefore ashamed of the testimony of our Lord, nor of me his prisoner: but be thou partaker of the afflictions of the gospel according to the power of God;
9 Who hath saved us, and called us with an holy calling, not according to our works, but according to his own purpose and grace, which was given us in Christ Jesus before the world began,
10 But is now made manifest by the appearing of our Saviour Jesus Christ, who hath abolished death, and hath brought life and immortality to light through the gospel
In verse 7 Paul states that God hath not given us the spirit of fear. We are all here to work together and to help each other out, humans are not solitary creatures. I've been able to meet many individuals from quite a few countries in my short time on this earth, and it's interesting to see how uniquely amazing each person's light is. Many apostles have continually reminded LDS church members that others should come to know Christ by knowing them; how you live your life a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints should testify of Christ. The first example of that I had was with my friend Jacy, we were so opposite, but she was patient; she and her family got to know me, and let make mistakes, let me find who I was without forcing my potential upon me. They encouraged me to be better, even though consistent mistakes were more than prevalent in my actions. But it was in large part because they were partakers of the afflictions of the gospel, that I was able to survive that night in December. Simple, consistent actions testified of Christ. And when looked back at what made sense in my life when my head cleared up enough to have sober thoughts, I was able to make a decision that the afflictions of the gospel would be better to suffer than the afflictions of the world.
I've experienced 21 years of life, the last 5 years of which I've been sober from a drug that introduced me to some of the darker of my character traits, as well as some other addictions... but life is worth it. I know that the time we have on earth is short, it's full of heartache, and sometimes a couple of hospital visits. We all learn in different ways, but in the end all the answers are simple.
A Jewish proverb states: "Who you are is God's gift to you, what you make of yourself is your gift to God."
A friend of mine once told me: "God will make more of me than I could ever make of myself."
I have to choose every day, and sometimes more often than that, to give my life to Heavenly Father. It's kinda like my ADD meds, I can take 'em and focus, but I still need to DO. Heavenly Father gives me strength, Christ's Atonement justifies my sin, and sanctifies me, I am given opportunity to BECOME better. God's hand is everywhere in my life, especially in the details. I'm the luckiest person I know, and even though there is an abhorrent amount of adversity, guile, sadness, rudeness, disrespect, and hate in the world, there is nothing that can't be overcome with some help. Bad stuff happens, and so does good stuff. My trials aren't easy, but no one's are, and I know for a fact that my life has been infinitely more simple and easy than the lives of many others, but I'm becoming, I'm progressing, I'm preparing; and while I am thinking about and planning the future, there is only need to take my life one day at a time.
The Church is True!
God is great, life is good, and people are crazy... just like they should be :)
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I love you Heather! That is a beautiful testimony!
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