My Crisis and Christianity Tears came running down my face for the third time in a twenty-four hour period. "When I don't feel good, I know it sounds weird, but I cut myself--not physically, but mentally," I told the local family counselor for the first time. "And, by the way, the best way to die is jumping out of an airplane." "Why's that?" he asked. "Because you get to freefall for what seems like forever and then not feel anymore pain after the first stop." It was the beginning of my new journey through life. For several years I had been debating about confronting my depression by seeing a counselor. My feelings were always hard to express in words, but whenever I tried, I only shared them with my faithful journal. At the beginning of the year I had written, "Pues, I have concluded that sometime in the near future I shall see a phycologist; maybe sheppard or the like. My depression hath surrounded me for so long, I am getting chaffed." Even then I had realized the need for my church’s family counselor, but procrastination dominated my wants and my needs. Finally on June 7th, 2006, during our church’s youth camp, my actions caught up with my feelings. Focusing on God, my non-Christian friends, and my depression for twenty-four hours a day led to strenuous thoughts and feelings of doubt. After three days of this, I mentally and emotionally exploded. On Wednesday afternoon, I presented my case of grief to the church’s family counselor. "If you want this to get better, I can recommend psychologists that deal with teenage depression. You can participate in talk therapy at Agape, the Babbs Center, or other associations in the Nashville area,” he suggested. “Why can’t you do it?” “Thank you for the compliment, but our families’ places in the church are held too high to be risking a friendship.” “Okay, now what?” “I need your permission to tell your parents what we have discussed.” “Umm, okay...sure.” “Now, right now do you have any suicidal thoughts? Do you want to hurt or harm yourself?” “No.” “Good. Now may I pray before we depart?” After being raised by a pulpit minister and a preschool teacher, I have learned that being held on a totem pole has its advantages, but also its downfalls. One of the disadvantages is being looked upon as a perfect example. As scripture says, "Not many of you should presume to be teachers, my brothers, because you know that we who teach will be judged more strictly." (Holy Bible, James 3:1) Knowing that the counselor, my family’s friend, also knew the pressure of being a minister, I looked for joy by seeing another psychologist. Life as a PK (preacher’s kid) was anything but easy, but without it, I probably would be dead. As a child, the first thing I would hear early in the mornings would be dad belting out at the top of his lungs, “Rise and shine, and give God the glory, glory!” Stepping out of the car for school, I received a routine questionnaire. “What’s the most important thing?” Then I would promptly reply, “To be like Jesus.” Day by day I absorbed the sermons about “Happiness is a choice” and “you never know who is watching.” Even though I quickly rejected them as a child, in the past months I used them frequently while dealing with anxiety. Without this change of mindset, my chronic depression would have ended with suicide, instead of changed into joy. Fortunately because Christianity was nailed into me as a child, I matured seeking Heaven no matter how lonely I became. On one occasion in the middle of July, I had arrived at the church building after a long day working as a day camp councilor for the church’s elementary kids. All of the day camp councilors had ridden from camp back to the church building together. While traveling, we played our traditional game of Would You Rather. This explicit game compares two people in a sexual scene. Then the players choose one of the two people they would rather see in the given situation. After getting in my car to travel to my vacant house, I realized my car was rushing toward the heavily trafficked street. I caught myself holding down the gas pedal and immediately slammed on the brakes. I sat trembling, breathing heavily, panicking, and wondering what to do. Once again thoughts rushed into my mind of loneliness, guilt, and suicide. "I could have stopped them playing that sinful game," I thought. The Bible does say, “But among you there must not be even a hint of sexual immorality, or of any kind of impurity, or of greed, because these are improper for God’s holy people. Not should there be obscenity, foolish talk or coarse joking, which are out of place, but rather thanksgiving.” (Ephesians 5:3- 4) Would You Rather had triggered my depression for no apparent reason and had turned my scenario into “would I rather live with this feeling of hopelessness, or die and end the pain.” Yet, there was another option. I turned the car around rapidly toward the church building to seek help from my fellow coworker. He then led me to my youth minister’s house where in my cries I was comforted . Because I was raised in the church, I had Christian friends to help me during my lowest lows. After seventeen years of handling my anxiety by myself, my eyes saw, my ears heard, and my heart felt the direction in which God was leading me. Previously I would lay in bed weeping, and my words of sorrows turned into prayers. “Come what may what may, but hold my hand during struggles and strife,” God heard daily. Following the hour talk I had with the minister at camp, I changed my reliance from self to support from others. That minister became the pipe for my feelings from me to my parents. I then privately started seeing a psychologist for talk therapy at a nearby family center once every week. Sessions became a weekly goal for me. The first couple weeks became a process of analyzing my childhood and teenage years. There were always more questions than answers, but eventually God, my psychologist, and I moved on to greater heights. The core of my sessions dealt with conquering the vulnerabilities. How should I handle decisions, great or small? Who can I talk with if problems arise? What can I do besides turning my anger inward? The last session reassured me that I can thrive while dealing with my chronic Dysthymia. Through seven weeks, seven sessions, seven talks, we turned my Christian values into actions. Now, “We know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” (Holy Bible, Romans 8:28)  Works Cited Holy Bible: New International Version. Barker: Zondervan, 1973.