Have you ever sunk inside yourself to a place of darkness so deep you couldn’t see the light? Had no hope? Felt completely alone in a world filled with so many people?

I have. I’ve lived it, breathed it.

Why?

Because life hated me.

It disliked me from the moment of conception, despised me when I was born, loathed me when I bounced from each foster home, and kicked me in the gut when I watched the one thing that meant everything to me leave.

For years, I drifted, unable to find my footing, never knowing what the word stable meant. Then a single moment in time rocked me to my core, changing me and making that solid ground I so desperately craved crumble at my feet, causing me to fall farther than I’d ever imagined.

The darkness of the swirling tornado that is depression captured me, pulling me down to its depths, drowning me, suffocating me, owning me.

A depth so deep, I didn’t think I’d survive and didn’t care if I did. I only wanted peace. I wanted the pain to disappear. I wanted to be … free.

Needing to fall into the cyclone of darkness was the only way I could find the light.