I used to hate myself.
Not in the casual “I’m hard on myself” way.
I mean, I used to pray I wouldn’t wake up.
I didn’t think I mattered.
I didn’t think my life had weight.
But one day in group therapy… everything shifted.
Everyone had to go around and speak.
And when I did—
They listened.
That moment rewired something in me.
Because for the first time, I felt like I had purpose.
Like my voice wasn’t a burden, it was a weapon.
A tool God could use to pull someone else out of the dark.
That moment didn’t erase the pain.
But it revealed the assignment.
And I haven’t been the same since.
Now I write. I speak. I train. I post.
Because I know someone out there still feels how I once did.
And if my words help them take one more step—
Then I’m doing what I was made to do.
CarMichael
~ Praise God