I’ve struggled with depression since I was a young child. I remember being 11 years old and lying on the floor of our living room, just staring at the ceiling, knowing I should get up but not knowing why. My mother would berate me for my laziness, but instead of feeling the usual sense of fear or urgency, I just felt nothing. My mind was a blank canvas, untouched by emotion, set adrift in a way that made me feel so distant from the person I knew that I was. This was the first episode of many. Over the years, I’ve learned to cope with my depression, but I’ve done it without the aid of therapists, medication, and other mental health resources. In the culture I grew up in, mental illness was not regarded as something that could be addressed by professional help, but instead as something to be ignored and pushed down. In experiencing mental illness “the old-fashioned way”, I’ve learned that it’s not something that can be overcome simply by pure willpower or positive thinking. The human brain is extraordinarily intricate and nuanced, and because of this, I believe mental illness should take the same priority as physical illness. As for how mental illness has affected my relationships, I’ve found that it can be difficult to maintain friendships during depressive episodes. When I was younger, my sudden distance and isolation was off-putting to my equally young friends, who couldn’t understand that my behavior had nothing to do with them, and everything to do with me. As I aged, I learned to mask my symptoms enough to spare my friends from the burden that I viewed as mine to bear alone. Now, I’m blessed enough to have friends who understand my disorder, and who help to shoulder its burden. Because of my experience with mental illness, as well as my fascination with the psychology of the human brain, I have decided to pursue my master’s degree in social work and become a licensed clinical social worker. Specifically, I would like to provide therapy for young children who have experienced trauma or are struggling with other mental disorders/illnesses. If possible, I would also like to provide Christian-based counseling, since I am a strong believer in the healing power of Christ’s love. I have a passion for working with children, and my heart aches for those who are struggling and have no one to turn to. It is my hope that I can one day be a light in the lives of children who are struggling, and a rock in the midst of instability.

I loved books before I could read them. My mother would read my favorites to me, over and over, and I would memorize the words. I was a word devourer, hungry for the rhythm of a story in the way that melophiles are captivated by lines of music. The same notes played in an infinite number of ways, the same letters arranged to create limitless interpretations of the human experience. Once I could read on my own, I read. And read. And read. My hunger could not be satiated; my curiosity could not be dampened. Books taught me things I couldn’t have learned elsewhere. They taught me about love, and its various imitations. They taught me about the heights of joy and the depths of depravity. They put into words the secrets of humanity, and revealed them to me in a way I was able to understand. Books were my escape, my delight, my access to fathomless knowledge. Of the many books I’ve read, a few have remained stamped on my soul. One such book, which I encountered as a young child, is “A Little Princess” by Frances Hodgson Burnett. The lessons and values it instilled within me continue to shape the way I view the world. In my girlhood, I remember being mesmerized by the idea of being a princess. This book taught me that one’s father doesn’t have to be a king for one to be a princess. Princess is not solely a title, but a demeanor, a description of character. Princesses are characterized by the purity of their hearts and the tenacity of their spirits. They are humble and kind, and they do not repay evil with evil, but overcome evil by doing good. Their strength is not derived from wielding power over others, but instead comes from an internal certainty of their identity. These are the lessons I learned, the values that are etched on the tablets of my heart. “I am a princess,” I would say to myself, holding my head high. “I am a princess,” I would say, my anger calming. Princesses rise above. Princesses value the powerless. Princesses are good. “I am a princess.” If I were to consider all that books have taught me, there is one element that stands out above all the rest. The single most important thing that I’ve learned from reading is the ability to empathize, to understand, to see the world from inside the minds of a diverse cast of individuals. There is something wonderful about viewing people as comprehensive beings, as opposed to one-dimensional characters imagined simply for our own convenience. This empathetic view of human beings is a huge part of why I have decided to become a social worker. I want to walk beside those who have been exposed to unfortunate circumstances, or have done unfortunate things, or have had unfortunate things done to them. I want to allow people to tell their own stories, and then enable them to rewrite them. Books have shaped my mind, my heart, and my future. They’ve revealed to me secrets of human nature; they’ve shown me endless possibilities of fate. They’ve made me feel great joy, and also weep with sadness. They have been my escape and my obsession. Books have the incredible capacity to change lives, and I can say with certainty that they have changed mine.

I have no dramatic testimony to tell. There was no moment of epiphany, or gut-wrenching sobs as I surrendered my life to the One who created it. I used to see this as a hindrance, as a missing tool in my evangelical toolbox, but now I see my story for the blessing it really is. I was born into a Christian home, and God, in all of His mercy, claimed me from the very beginning. Technically, my commitment to Christ didn’t occur until I was 12 years old, but looking back, there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t feel His presence in my heart, His voice in my head, His hand on my life. High school was difficult for me. Living life for Jesus made it tough to connect with many of my peers. Even if they couldn’t identify the reason, they saw me as separate, as different from themselves. In addition to this struggle to connect with classmates, I was also suffering from severe cystic acne. Most days, I felt like I had a disease. People were hesitant to touch me, to make eye contact. Mean comments were rare; mainly, I was just ignored. Conversations felt patronizing, kindness felt like pity. Nights, I would sob, quietly so my parents couldn’t hear. I would cry out to Jesus, and He would hold me, and collect each of my tears in His bottle. I remember asking Him to take me home. I pleaded with Him, saying I was tired, that living was hurting me too much. Gently, He replied, “The plans I have for you are not yet complete.” In the morning I awoke, and looked at the day as confirmation that God had great things in store for my life. Junior year, my circumstances improved. My skin cleared up a lot, and God blessed me with a group of close-knit, faith-filled friends. However, to this day, I thank God for that painful time of my life. I thank Him for His comfort during that season, and for the growth that came from solely relying on Him. I’ve been attending college for two years now, and during that time my faith has been tested, my values have been challenged, and I’ve asked the Father more questions than during the rest of my life combined. That being said, the growth that has occurred as a result of this uncertainty would not have come to fruition in a less intense environment. I’ve struggled with doubts, with confusion, with weariness. But I’ve sought the Lord earnestly, and He’s given me answers. I’ve brought Him my burdens, and He’s given me rest. I’ve shown Him my brokenness, and He’s promised healing. He’s been my hope, my salvation, my rest, my refuge in times of trouble. In the fall, I plan to move to campus at the University of Southern Indiana and become very involved with the Christian community there. A few of my friends attend a church close to the university, and I’ll likely be going there as well. I’ve been commuting until now, and it’s been difficult to be as plugged in as I would like to be, but I’m excited to connect with the many resources available, such as Bible studies, discipleship programs, and volunteer opportunities. However, these past two years have taught me the importance of sitting at Jesus’s feet, and what I’ve found is that there’s no place I’d rather be. As my college experience continues, I will continue to abide in Him, and Him in me, and together we will face the world.