Out of My Darkness
Veronica's Story
I didn’t think peace was something meant for me.
I grew up in a home where everything felt unstable. My dad was a high-functioning alcoholic—he still is—and with that came a lot of verbal abuse and sometimes physical abuse too. At the same time, my brother was fighting a rare disease. I remember him throwing up 40 or 50 times a day.
I grew up in a home where everything felt unstable. My dad was a high-functioning alcoholic—he still is—and with that came a lot of verbal abuse and sometimes physical abuse too. At the same time, my brother was fighting a rare disease. I remember him throwing up 40 or 50 times a day.
My mom was desperate. She prayed, “God, if You’re real, help us find out what’s wrong with my son, and I’ll follow You.” When doctors finally diagnosed him with cyclical vomiting syndrome—something incredibly rare—he started getting treatment and slowly got better. And my mom kept her promise. She gave her life to God and started bringing me to church.
I knew there was a God. I just didn’t understand Him.
We would go to church on Sunday, but then my dad would be drunk by the afternoon. Nothing made sense. Church became more of a place I escaped to than something I truly believed in. But outside of that, life was hard.
I was diagnosed with a learning disability really young, which resulted in a lot of bullying. And in middle school, the bullying got bad. That’s when anxiety and depression hit me hard. I never felt like I belonged anywhere—not at school, not at church, not even sometimes in my own family. I felt completely alone.
By the end of eighth grade, I attempted suicide for the first time. After that, I was put on medication, but I had a severe allergic reaction that made everything worse. I spiraled into a deeper, darker place. I attempted again. And when I survived, I didn’t feel relieved—I felt like a failure. Like I couldn’t even do that right.
I was in and out of mental institutions. I tried to overdose. I remember lying there, waiting to die, thinking that everything would finally be okay if I just wasn’t here anymore. That I’d finally have peace. But I didn’t die. And things didn’t get better.
In high school, I started smoking weed, then drinking heavily. I ended up in rehab, hoping maybe it would help—but I got bullied there too. It felt like no matter where I went, I couldn’t escape. I remember calling my mom, begging her to get me out. Eventually she did. She even took a year off work just to try to help me.
After graduation, I started chasing anything that made me feel something—or nothing at all. Parties, drinking, weed, eventually cocaine. I just wanted to escape. I wanted attention. I wanted to feel like I mattered to someone.
I also carried a lot of hidden pain. I had been sexually assaulted in high school and never told anyone. The shame from that drove me even deeper into depression and addiction. I didn’t want to remember. I didn’t want to live. I lost my best friend to an overdose. I got into a toxic, abusive relationship. I was constantly drinking, blacking out, spending everything I had. My life felt like one long spiral I couldn’t stop.
And then one night, sitting on my bedroom floor, completely broken, I did something I hadn’t really done before. I prayed. I said, “God, if You’re real, You need to help me. I can’t do this anymore. Send me somewhere I can be healed—and then I’ll believe in You.”
Not even 30 minutes later, I opened TikTok like I always did—and a video from Calvary popped up. I realized it was 15 minutes from my house.
The next Thursday, I drove to Calvary’s young adult service. But when I saw the crowd, I panicked and left. I couldn’t even walk in.
But I felt this pull—like something kept telling me, “Go back.” So the next week, I did. I walked in alone. Someone I had never met invited me to sit with them. And during worship, I just started crying. I didn’t understand why. I couldn’t stop.
Then I heard something that changed everything. “You’re never too far gone. Jesus will meet you exactly where you’re at.” I broke. For the first time, I realized maybe God hadn’t left me. Maybe He had been with me the whole time.
At the end of the service, there was a moment to respond—to give your life to Jesus. I didn’t think. I didn’t hesitate. I just raised my hand. That night, everything changed. I went home with something I hadn’t felt in years—peace. Real peace. And hope.
From that moment on, things started shifting in ways I can’t even fully explain. I stopped drinking. I stopped smoking. The anxiety, the depression, the addictions—they didn’t have the same hold on me anymore. It was like chains had been cut off. I got baptized. I started following Jesus. And for the first time, I wasn’t trying to escape my life—I was actually living it.
Now, my life looks completely different. I have peace, even when things aren’t perfect. I know I’m not alone. I know I belong. And I know my life has purpose. The biggest part of my story now is this: I’m breaking the chains in my family. The cycles of addiction, depression, and pain—they stop with me.
And what amazes me most is how God is using my story. The places where I was the most broken are now the places He’s using me to help others. I get to pray with people at the altar—just like someone once did for me. I work with middle school and high school students—the same age where my pain was the deepest.
I used to think God caused my pain. Now I see He can redeem it. What I know about God now is something I never understood before: You are not too far gone. There is no place you can end up where He won’t meet you. I tried everything to escape my life—and the only real way out was Jesus.
If He could do this in me, He can do it in anyone. And I’m living proof of that.
I knew there was a God. I just didn’t understand Him.
We would go to church on Sunday, but then my dad would be drunk by the afternoon. Nothing made sense. Church became more of a place I escaped to than something I truly believed in. But outside of that, life was hard.
I was diagnosed with a learning disability really young, which resulted in a lot of bullying. And in middle school, the bullying got bad. That’s when anxiety and depression hit me hard. I never felt like I belonged anywhere—not at school, not at church, not even sometimes in my own family. I felt completely alone.
By the end of eighth grade, I attempted suicide for the first time. After that, I was put on medication, but I had a severe allergic reaction that made everything worse. I spiraled into a deeper, darker place. I attempted again. And when I survived, I didn’t feel relieved—I felt like a failure. Like I couldn’t even do that right.
I was in and out of mental institutions. I tried to overdose. I remember lying there, waiting to die, thinking that everything would finally be okay if I just wasn’t here anymore. That I’d finally have peace. But I didn’t die. And things didn’t get better.
In high school, I started smoking weed, then drinking heavily. I ended up in rehab, hoping maybe it would help—but I got bullied there too. It felt like no matter where I went, I couldn’t escape. I remember calling my mom, begging her to get me out. Eventually she did. She even took a year off work just to try to help me.
After graduation, I started chasing anything that made me feel something—or nothing at all. Parties, drinking, weed, eventually cocaine. I just wanted to escape. I wanted attention. I wanted to feel like I mattered to someone.
I also carried a lot of hidden pain. I had been sexually assaulted in high school and never told anyone. The shame from that drove me even deeper into depression and addiction. I didn’t want to remember. I didn’t want to live. I lost my best friend to an overdose. I got into a toxic, abusive relationship. I was constantly drinking, blacking out, spending everything I had. My life felt like one long spiral I couldn’t stop.
And then one night, sitting on my bedroom floor, completely broken, I did something I hadn’t really done before. I prayed. I said, “God, if You’re real, You need to help me. I can’t do this anymore. Send me somewhere I can be healed—and then I’ll believe in You.”
Not even 30 minutes later, I opened TikTok like I always did—and a video from Calvary popped up. I realized it was 15 minutes from my house.
The next Thursday, I drove to Calvary’s young adult service. But when I saw the crowd, I panicked and left. I couldn’t even walk in.
But I felt this pull—like something kept telling me, “Go back.” So the next week, I did. I walked in alone. Someone I had never met invited me to sit with them. And during worship, I just started crying. I didn’t understand why. I couldn’t stop.
Then I heard something that changed everything. “You’re never too far gone. Jesus will meet you exactly where you’re at.” I broke. For the first time, I realized maybe God hadn’t left me. Maybe He had been with me the whole time.
At the end of the service, there was a moment to respond—to give your life to Jesus. I didn’t think. I didn’t hesitate. I just raised my hand. That night, everything changed. I went home with something I hadn’t felt in years—peace. Real peace. And hope.
From that moment on, things started shifting in ways I can’t even fully explain. I stopped drinking. I stopped smoking. The anxiety, the depression, the addictions—they didn’t have the same hold on me anymore. It was like chains had been cut off. I got baptized. I started following Jesus. And for the first time, I wasn’t trying to escape my life—I was actually living it.
Now, my life looks completely different. I have peace, even when things aren’t perfect. I know I’m not alone. I know I belong. And I know my life has purpose. The biggest part of my story now is this: I’m breaking the chains in my family. The cycles of addiction, depression, and pain—they stop with me.
And what amazes me most is how God is using my story. The places where I was the most broken are now the places He’s using me to help others. I get to pray with people at the altar—just like someone once did for me. I work with middle school and high school students—the same age where my pain was the deepest.
I used to think God caused my pain. Now I see He can redeem it. What I know about God now is something I never understood before: You are not too far gone. There is no place you can end up where He won’t meet you. I tried everything to escape my life—and the only real way out was Jesus.
If He could do this in me, He can do it in anyone. And I’m living proof of that.
At Calvary Church, our mission is to see lives transformed by the power of God. If God has transformed your life, share your story here.