I have felt the need to write this out for awhile. I have no idea why. I feel like this is all over the place and will make me sound crazy but I also feel like it is important for some reason unknown to me at this time. This is something that at the moment I battle on a daily basis. I am worn but Wednesday I feel like God told me to keep getting up. I refuse to give in. I refuse to let it take over. I refuse to let the devil win. I refuse to let him distract me from my calling. So here is my story. Here is the reason I am worn, but still finding the strength (thanks to a BIG God) to get back up. I'm not sure when it all started. For as long as I can remember I have been fearful. I know that my first struggle with depression started on September 11, 2001. I was in 7th grade in my 2nd period class when a teacher ran into our classroom screaming and crying, "TURN ON THE TV! A PLANE CRASHED INTO THE WORLD TRADE CENTER!!" My teacher turned on the TV and not even a minute...