In 2022 I lost my best friend, my nana. I grew up in a house that wasn't always the most stable with separated parents and an alcoholic for a mom. My nana was the one person who was constantly there for me when I needed her. She would help me with schoolwork, listen to my troubles, give me a safe place to cry when I needed one and help me celebrate all of my accomplishments. She was diagnosed with Alzheimers and that felt likeI could loose her to her memory before I really lost her. In 2020 my family made the difficult decision to put her into an assisted living facility where she could better get the help she needed and this decision broke my heart. I gave her the biggest hug before leaving and I told her that I would visit soon. Less than a week later, the world was shut down and there was no going to visit. Being stuck in the house without her being there felt impossible but I tried my best to stay strong and be a support for my family. She eventually fell and was placed in a rehabilitation and assisted living facility where she remained for the next 2 years. Once restrictions were lifted, and we were able to go and visit the first thing I did was give her a hug and I saddened by the fact that she could remember I was someone important to her but she couldn't remember exactly who I was. I was the only one she would let sit with her for extended periods of time without getting angry but every visit broke my heart a little bit more. My mom ended up going to rehab and getting sober and I was so proud of her for doing it and we both knew that my nana would be too but the 6 months when she was away made it more difficult because there was only me to go and visit with her because nobody else would. The night that she had passed away I was immediately hit with all the feelings I had felt when she had first gotten her diagnosis. I had seen her earlier in the day and knew that it was going to be the last time I got to see her and I just sat and held her hand telling her that we would be okay if she let go even though I really wasn't sure that I would be. The next day, my mom tested positive covid so all of the funeral arrangements fell to me. I ignored my grief and tried to step up and be there for everyone else once again because she had taken care of me for so long I wanted everything to go right. I did everything you are supposed to do for a funeral identifying the body, finalizing things at the funeral home, the runs to the bank to get people paid, the flowers, the obituary, the eulogy, the photographs and each step felt more difficult than the last because it felt like nobody wanted to talk about her. The funeral came and went and it was lovely but I still felt alone in my grief. I worked hard in therapy to pull myself out of the dark place that I was in mentally because I know that it is not what she would want for me. My biggest goal is to continue to be someone that my nana would be proud of. I am going to school for mental health and addiction counseling because she knew of my dream to help others and was so encouraging of that. I want to help people who come from disfunctional families like my own, I want to help those who are struggling with addiction I want to help people find the end of the tunnel when it feels like grief is swallowing them whole. There are all things that I know one day I will do for someone. There are some days where I still think of my nana and feel sad but I know that she would want me to think of her and smile. I know she would want me to follow my dreams and help as many people as I can.

Growing up, there were not many activities that my dad was willing to do with my younger sister and I. One of the activities he was almost always willing to do with us was play Mario Kart on the Wii. We would sit for hours racing around and taking turns playing on single player so that we could unlock new levels and characters. My dad would always play as Waluigi on Standard Bike L and I would usually play as Bowser because I believed that if I were a larger character I would have a better chance of knocking him out of my way. I would try to follow my dad as best as I was able because the only thing I really wanted was to be able to play as well as he did. One particular memory that stands out in my mind is the day that I finally beat my dad. He let me pick the levels and I picked the flower cup which I had spent countless hours clutching onto my red steering wheel practicing. I felt confident in my ability to play three out of the four levels so I believed that this was my chance. The count down began and we raced through all of the levels. It was such a close game but I had luck (and turtle shells) on my side. When we completed all four levels and it showed the gold first place cup at the end, I was so happy knowing that it was there for me. He smiled at me, told me I raced a good race and then challenged me to a rematch. Now I have younger family members who love to play. I still have the same excitement playing Mario Kart with them as I did with my dad when I was younger and I still have my red steering wheel. The biggest difference between then and now is that when I turn on the Wii to play and I have to select my character, now I choose Waluigi and I think of the fun times that I had racing with my dad.

Growing up, I was surrounded by family members who struggled with mental health issues. My parents divorced when I was 12 which led my mom down the rabbit hole of depression and drinking. It would take another 10 years for her to accept that she was an alcoholic and seek professional help. The addiction that my mom had was something that impacted the entire family. My dad did not do much to help this situation and I ended up in therapy myself for anxiety and depression. I was constantly burnt out because I was trying to keep up the facade that everything in my life was perfect. I told myself that if I pretended that everything was okay in public and went home and took care of my sister and grandmother, then my mom would have less to worry about and maybe it would give her the chance to try to get herself help. That was never the case and more often than not, I added her to the burden of things I felt that I had to deal with. Throughout the years I saw many therapists. I found it difficult to open myself up to them. I felt like I could not trust them. I thought if I finally spoke the truth about what I had been feeling then the whole facade would have been for nothing. I eventually gave up on searching because I thought it was pointless. I did not think that I would ever be able to find someone who would make me feel unjudged and safe. The therapists that I had seen were treating me like a child despite that I was dealing with adult issues, giving me the standard "mmhmm and how do you feel?", staring at me and even blaming every single issue I had on the fact that my mom had an issue. When my mom finally went to rehab, I was encouraged by a friend to try again because the circumstances that I was in had changed. She told me that my mom had openly admitted that she had a problem and that it was no longer my job to uphold the facade that everything was fine. She was right. I tried again and I found a therapist that I connected with. He worked with me in a way that nobody else ever had. He forced me to find answers in myself rather than just sitting there and staring at me. I began to throw myself into my schoolwork. For the first time, I was not doing it to hide from the truth but to normalize it. I declared myself a psychology major and took classes on abnormal psychology, counseling and even addictions. These classes caused everything in my life to make so much sense. I realized that despite what I had originally believed, I was not alone and that much of what I was dealing with was normal given the circumstances that I had grown up in. I know that I want to be a counselor and finish my certificate for substance abuse counseling because I want to be able to do for someone else what my therapist has done for me and so much more. I hope to open my own practice one day so that I can make sure the environment feels safe for anyone who is struggling to open up about their lives. Although life still throws things at me that are sometimes difficult to deal with, I have better coping skills and am prepared to deal with those challenges.

Growing up, I was surrounded by family members who struggled with mental health issues. My parents divorced when I was 12 which led my mom down the rabbit hole of depression and drinking. It would take another 10 years for her to accept that she was an alcoholic and seek professional help. The addiction that my mom had was something that impacted the entire family. My dad did not do much to help this situation and I ended up in therapy myself for anxiety and depression. I was constantly burnt out because I was trying to keep up the facade that everything in my life was perfect. I told myself that if I pretended that everything was okay in public and went home and took care of my sister and grandmother, then my mom would have less to worry about and maybe it would give her the chance to try to get herself help. That was never the case and more often than not, I added her to the burden of things I felt that I had to deal with. Throughout the years I saw many therapists. I found it difficult to open myself up to them. I felt like I could not trust them. I thought if I finally spoke the truth about what I had been feeling then the whole facade would have been for nothing. I eventually gave up on searching because I thought it was pointless. I did not think that I would ever be able to find someone who would make me feel unjudged and safe. The therapists that I had seen were treating me like a child despite that I was dealing with adult issues, giving me the standard "mmhmm and how do you feel?", staring at me and even blaming every single issue I had on the fact that my mom had an issue. When my mom finally went to rehab, I was encouraged by a friend to try again because the circumstances that I was in had changed. She told me that my mom had openly admitted that she had a problem and that it was no longer my job to uphold the facade that everything was fine. She was right. I tried again and I found a therapist that I connected with. He worked with me in a way that nobody else ever had. He forced me to find answers in myself rather than just sitting there and staring at me.I began to throw myself into my schoolwork. For the first time, I was not doing it to hide from the truth but to normalize it. I declared myself a psychology major and took classes on abnormal psychology, counseling and even addictions. These classes caused everything in my life to make so much sense. I realized that despite what I had originally believed, I was not alone and that much of what I was dealing with was normal given the circumstances that I had grown up in. I know that I want to be a counselor because I want to be able to do for someone else what my therapist has done for me. I hope to open my own practice one day so that I can make sure the environment feels safe for anyone who is struggling to open up about their lives. Although life still throws things at me that are sometimes difficult to deal with, I have better coping skills and am prepared to deal with those challenges.

Growing up, I was surrounded by family members who struggled with mental health issues. My parents divorced when I was 12 which led my mom down the rabbit hole of depression and drinking. It would take another 10 years for her to accept that she was an alcoholic and seek professional help. The addiction that my mom had was something that impacted the entire family. My dad did not do much to help this situation and I ended up in therapy myself for anxiety and depression. I was constantly burnt out because I was trying to keep up the facade that everything in my life was perfect. I told myself that if I pretended that everything was okay in public and went home and took care of my sister and grandmother, then my mom would have less to worry about and maybe it would give her the chance to try to get herself help. That was never the case and more often than not, I added her to the burden of things I felt that I had to deal with. Throughout the years I saw many therapists. I found it difficult to open myself up to them. I felt like I could not trust them. I thought if I finally spoke the truth about what I had been feeling then the whole facade would have been for nothing. I eventually gave up on searching because I thought it was pointless. I did not think that I would ever be able to find someone who would make me feel unjudged and safe. The therapists that I had seen were treating me like a child despite that I was dealing with adult issues, giving me the standard "mmhmm and how do you feel?", staring at me and even blaming every single issue I had on the fact that my mom had an issue. When my mom finally went to rehab, I was encouraged by a friend to try again because the circumstances that I was in had changed. She told me that my mom had openly admitted that she had a problem and that it was no longer my job to uphold the facade that everything was fine. She was right. I tried again and I found a therapist that I connected with. He worked with me in a way that nobody else ever had. He forced me to find answers in myself rather than just sitting there and staring at me.I began to throw myself into my schoolwork. For the first time, I was not doing it to hide from the truth but to normalize it. I declared myself a psychology major and took classes on abnormal psychology, counseling and even addictions. These classes caused everything in my life to make so much sense. I realized that despite what I had originally believed, I was not alone and that much of what I was dealing with was normal given the circumstances that I had grown up in. I know that I want to be a counselor because I want to be able to do for someone else what my therapist has done for me. I hope to open my own practice one day so that I can make sure the environment feels safe for anyone who is struggling to open up about their lives. Although life still throws things at me that are sometimes difficult to deal with, I have better coping skills and am prepared to deal with those challenges.

Growing up, I was surrounded by family members who struggled with mental health issues. My parents divorced when I was 12 which led my mom down the rabbit hole of depression and drinking. It would take another 10 years for her to accept that she was an alcoholic and seek professional help. The addiction that my mom had was something that impacted the entire family. My dad did not do much to help this situation and I ended up in therapy myself for anxiety and depression. I was constantly burnt out because I was trying to keep up the facade that everything in my life was perfect. I told myself that if I pretended that everything was okay in public and went home and took care of my sister and grandmother, then my mom would have less to worry about and maybe it would give her the chance to try to get herself help. That was never the case and more often than not, I added her to the burden of things I felt that I had to deal with. Throughout the years I saw many therapists. I found it difficult to open myself up to them. I felt like I could not trust them. I thought if I finally spoke the truth about what I had been feeling then the whole facade would have been for nothing. I eventually gave up on searching because I thought it was pointless. I did not think that I would ever be able to find someone who would make me feel unjudged and safe. The therapists that I had seen were treating me like a child despite that I was dealing with adult issues, giving me the standard "mmhmm and how do you feel?", staring at me and even blaming every single issue I had on the fact that my mom had an issue. When my mom finally went to rehab, I was encouraged by a friend to try again because the circumstances that I was in had changed. She told me that my mom had openly admitted that she had a problem and that it was no longer my job to uphold the facade that everything was fine. She was right. I tried again and I found a therapist that I connected with. He worked with me in a way that nobody else ever had. He forced me to find answers in myself rather than just sitting there and staring at me.I began to throw myself into my schoolwork. For the first time, I was not doing it to hide from the truth but to normalize it. I declared myself a psychology major and took classes on abnormal psychology, counseling and even addictions. These classes caused everything in my life to make so much sense. I realized that despite what I had originally believed, I was not alone and that much of what I was dealing with was normal given the circumstances that I had grown up in. I know that I want to be a counselor because I want to be able to do for someone else what my therapist has done for me. I hope to open my own practice one day so that I can make sure the environment feels safe for anyone who is struggling to open up about their lives. Although life still throws things at me that are sometimes difficult to deal with, I have better coping skills and am prepared to deal with those challenges.

Growing up, I was surrounded by family members who struggled with mental health issues. My parents divorced when I was 12 which led my mom down the rabbit hole of depression and drinking. It would take another 10 years for her to accept that she was an alcoholic and seek professional help. The addiction that my mom had was something that impacted the entire family. My dad did not do much to help this situation and I ended up in therapy myself for anxiety and depression. I was constantly burnt out because I was trying to keep up the facade that everything in my life was perfect. I told myself that if I pretended that everything was okay in public and went home and took care of my sister and grandmother, then my mom would have less to worry about and maybe it would give her the chance to try to get herself help. That was never the case and more often than not, I added her to the burden of things I felt that I had to deal with. Throughout the years I saw many therapists. I found it difficult to open myself up to them. I felt like I could not trust them. I thought if I finally spoke the truth about what I had been feeling then the whole facade would have been for nothing. I eventually gave up on searching because I thought it was pointless. I did not think that I would ever be able to find someone who would make me feel unjudged and safe. The therapists that I had seen were treating me like a child despite that I was dealing with adult issues, giving me the standard "mmhmm and how do you feel?", staring at me and even blaming every single issue I had on the fact that my mom had an issue. When my mom finally went to rehab, I was encouraged by a friend to try again because the circumstances that I was in had changed. She told me that my mom had openly admitted that she had a problem and that it was no longer my job to uphold the facade that everything was fine. She was right. I tried again and I found a therapist that I connected with. He worked with me in a way that nobody else ever had. He forced me to find answers in myself rather than just sitting there and staring at me.I began to throw myself into my schoolwork. For the first time, I was not doing it to hide from the truth but to normalize it. I declared myself a psychology major and took classes on abnormal psychology, counseling and even addictions. These classes caused everything in my life to make so much sense. I realized that despite what I had originally believed, I was not alone and that much of what I was dealing with was normal given the circumstances that I had grown up in. I know that I want to be a counselor because I want to be able to do for someone else what my therapist has done for me. I hope to open my own practice one day so that I can make sure the environment feels safe for anyone who is struggling to open up about their lives. Although life still throws things at me that are sometimes difficult to deal with, I have better coping skills and am prepared to deal with those challenges.