My story begins in Bega, a small town on the far south coast of New South Wales. I was fifteen, and had recently graduated year 10, when I slid into a depression. The stupid thing with me is that I denied it, and showed no sign of it to my parents or anyone else at the time. Many other problems from my past came back to haunt me, and I went to bed every night scared, scared of the present, the future, and life in general.

I was scared, because I was about to move to Canberra in January 2004, to do year 11 and 12, and I did not know how I was going to cope. My parents had been Salvation Army ministers when I was younger, until they divorced and went their separate ways in April 1997. I had claimed to be a Christian. I went to church, prayed and read the Bible occasionally. When it came down to the crunch, I was not a Christian; I did not have a relationship with Jesus Christ. Things got worse. I denied my situation further.