Part two

 Two cups of coffee deep, and I’m going to give another glimpse into the testimony. I will say this:  My mental state was absolutely in shambles, and therapy would come later. I found that my journey to the church and worship music started to break the walls of my torn soul. I had a particular friend who on many instances would mend the pieces of me, I couldn’t fix. I still listen to worship music daily. As for the church, that’s another story. I can’t go into without my emotions getting the best of me. I also started to write. The tears that came after years of repression were needed. I will never forget sitting at my Sony Vaio bawling listening to Michael W. Smith. As I would write, the words I would read back were something I couldn’t handle. I couldn’t come to grips with getting older, and the what ifs of what my future would hold. If your disabled, and watched your family worry about you as you age, it is downright terrifying. If you have, I don’t need to explain. If you haven’t, it’s one of your greatest blessings. Disability wouldn’t kill me, but my reaction to it, almost did. I see myself being in therapy for the foreseeable future. I need to say this. God saved me more times than once, and therapy helps me stay sane. This is part two