The Will of a Single Teen

Dear Reader,

Imagine you are sitting on a bed holding a razor blade that you are about to bring to your skin. Did you get a chill? Good! That was me a few years back.

I was born into a stable house; a mother and father, a sister, a couple of pets. all was well. Then we moved, and I had to adjust to the new environment. I got very depressed very fast.

Around my seventh and eighth grade year I started hanging around a group that called themselves emo. It was as bad as it sounds. Horrible music, pills, wine and other alcohol, and a lot of depressed kids who's favorite pass time was cutting their bodies with razors. I fell deep into their ideology and coppied their practices.

Eventually I became so depressed that cutting myself was no longer a ritual but addicting and a necessity. I knew that if I did not tell someone then it could lead to me taking my own life. (At this point in my life I was a Christian but did not follow my faith.) So i went to my only source of retreat, my mother. I stopped her in the car after we pulled into the driveway of our house and told her the story. She was very sincere.

As the next couple of weeks turned out I began counceling sessions with my then youth pastor, but now pastor, Tim Smith. I dressed differently, got a haircut (My hair was almost shoulder length then.), and wore brighter colors and short sleeves.

That time was my turn around that made me who I am today.

-AW, Titus 2:7-8