As a nursing student with goals to specialize in psychiatric nursing, my career goals align with fostering the social-emotional well being and meeting the intellectual needs of gifted children. The intersection of psychiatric nursing and the unique needs of gifted children presents a promising avenue for impactful contributions to this often underrepresented demographic. Gifted children frequently exhibit heightened sensitivities, intense emotional responses, and advanced intellectual capabilities. While these traits can be advantageous, they also render these children more vulnerable to mental health challenges, including anxiety, depression, and social isolation. As a future psychiatric nurse, and as someone who has personally lived through it all, I am committed to addressing these complexities through an individualistic approach. First, my role will involve creating a supportive and understanding environment where gifted children can express their feelings without fear of judgment. Understanding that gifted children may feel out of place among their peers due to their advanced thinking and emotional depth, I will strive to foster a sense of belonging. This will involve individualized care plans that consider each child's emotional landscape, ensuring they feel seen and heard. By offering a safe space for these children to explore and articulate their emotions, I will help them develop healthier coping mechanisms and emotional resilience. Furthermore, my training in psychiatric nursing will equip me with the tools to address the specific mental health needs of gifted children. This includes early identification of potential issues, such as perfectionism, existential angst, or asynchronous development, where cognitive abilities outpace emotional maturity. Through targeted therapeutic interventions, I can help these children navigate their unique challenges. Techniques such as cognitive-behavioral therapy, mindfulness practices, and play therapy will be instrumental in my practice, tailored to suit the individual needs of each child. Meeting the intellectual needs of gifted children is equally critical. These children often require stimulation beyond the standard curriculum to stay engaged and motivated. In my capacity as a psychiatric nurse, I plan to collaborate with educators and parents to develop enrichment programs that challenge and inspire gifted minds. This might include facilitating access to advanced learning resources, recommending extracurricular activities that align with their interests, or connecting them with mentors who can further their intellectual growth. Moreover, I envision advocating for the integration of mental health education within gifted programs. By promoting awareness and understanding of mental health issues among educators and caregivers, we can create a more holistic support system for gifted children. This includes training teachers to recognize the signs of mental distress and equipping them with strategies to support students' emotional well-being within the classroom setting. Additionally, I will focus on bridging the gap between intellectual and emotional development. Gifted children often experience a disparity between their cognitive abilities and their emotional or social maturity. By providing guidance and support, I can help them harmonize these aspects of their identity. Encouraging social skills development through group therapy sessions or social skills training can help gifted children navigate social interactions more effectively, fostering healthier relationships with peers and reducing feelings of isolation. In conclusion, my career goals in psychiatric nursing are deeply intertwined with the mission of nurturing the social-emotional well-being and intellectual needs of gifted children. Through compassionate care, targeted interventions, and collaborative efforts, I aim to make a meaningful difference in the lives of these exceptional individuals. By addressing their unique challenges and promoting their strengths, I hope to contribute to their overall well-being and help them realize their full potential.

Mental health problems have always surrounded me; it's a raging problem within my family. With my mom's chronic depression and my dad's manic bipolar, emotions were always different and challenging to understand. Sometimes my mom wouldn't feel anything, like a numb zombie to the world around her. Sometimes my dad felt enough emotions for the entire family, getting quickly excited yet just as easily irritated at the same time. Sometimes I would live with my grandparents when they had to change their medication because it wasn't known how they would react to the new hormone changes created by their new pills. Seeing them take so many pills everyday created a unique desire to also take pills, so an evening "candy time" was imagined up; my parents would take their medicine while I would take my 'pills' made from sugar and off-brand smarties. I was quick to find out that children can develop PTSD. An awful man did an awful thing to me when I was six, and I was suddenly thrown into an environment of overprotective parents, doctor visits, and looks that have a depressing mixture of guilt and empathy. Memories came like a popup ad in my brain; faces that look remotely familiar turn into him with no logical sense or reason. Though I don't remember what I was before this event, I saw my mother silently grieve for the loss of her energetic, happy little girl. My dad's bipolar became worse. More nights down at the shed, drinking the night away in solitude. I remember when my mom broke a picture frame in our downstairs bathroom. While humorous to a nine year old, I've learned the reason to why at a little time. My mom came back from "hospital home" - as I would call it, apparently, her depression had been solved. Solved was really just pushed away feelings, a numb puppet to her body of strings. She punched the picture to feel something; it wasn't exactly a healthy solution or a good influence to me, but it was all she could think of doing. I guess it was ironic that the picture was of our family; there was glass broken on the floor and blood on the picture, smearing the color red on our family like a physical red flag. The first time I was at the hospital for my mental breakdown was the time I knew I wanted to become a nurse. The nurses were there for me, not just to make me better but to just let me know that there was someone there for me. At a time when I felt like I was alone, the nurses made sure to grab that thought by the throat and throw it out of my system. Reminders of food, coming in just to talk, or even just to sit with nothing but silence surrounding us. I want to be able to help people like those nurses who help me. They weren't doing it because it was their job, but they were doing it because it was their passion, and I want to be able to do such a thing because I know I have the passion for doing so. Working as a pediatric nurse in the future would be one of my dream positions because I know just how much of an impact nurses have on patients, especially children patients. Without the nurses I had around me and my family, I know things would not be the same and I would not know the lessons I know now because they helped me grow and learn.

Mental health problems have always surrounded me; it's a raging problem within my family. With my mom's chronic depression and my dad's manic bipolar, emotions were always different and challenging to understand. Sometimes my mom wouldn't feel anything, like a numb zombie to the world around her. Sometimes my dad felt enough emotions for the entire family, getting quickly excited yet just as easily irritated at the same time. Sometimes I would live with my grandparents when they had to change their medication because it wasn't known how they would react to the new hormone changes created by their new pills. Seeing them take so many pills every day created a unique desire to also take pills, so an evening of "candy time" was imagined; my parents would take their medicine while I would take my 'pills' made from sugar and off-brand smarties. I was quick to find out that children can develop PTSD. An awful man did an awful thing to me when I was six, and I was suddenly thrown into an environment of overprotective parents, doctor visits, and looks that have a depressing mixture of guilt and empathy. Memories came like a popup ad in my brain; faces that look remotely familiar turn into him with no logical sense or reason. Though I don't remember what I was before this event, I saw my mother silently grieve for the loss of her energetic, happy little girl. My dad's bipolar became worse. More nights down at the shed, drinking the night away in solitude. I remember when my mom broke a picture frame in our downstairs bathroom. While humorous to a nine-year-old, I've learned why in a short time. My mom came back from "hospital home" - as I would call it, apparently, her depression had been solved. Solved was really just pushed away feelings, a numb puppet to her body of strings. She punched the picture to feel something; it wasn't exactly a healthy solution or a good influence on me, but it was all she could think of doing. I guess it was ironic that the picture was of our family; there was glass broken on the floor and blood on the picture, smearing the color red on our family like a physical red flag. The first time I was at the hospital for my mental breakdown was the time I knew I wanted to become a nurse. The nurses were there for me, not just to make me better but to let me know that there was someone there for me. At a time when I felt like I was alone, the nurses made sure to grab that thought by the throat and throw it out of my system. Reminders of food, coming in to talk, or even just to sit with nothing but silence surrounding us. I want to be able to help people like those nurses who help me. They weren't doing it because it was their job, but they were doing it because it was their passion, and I want to be able to do such a thing because I know I have the passion for doing so. Working as a pediatric nurse in the future would be one of my dream positions because I know just how much of an impact nurses have on patients, especially children patients. Without the nurses I had around me and my family, I know things would not be the same and I would not know the lessons I know now because they helped me grow and learn. If I had been asked last year where I would see myself in 10 years, I probably would have said dead. Or more honestly, I probably wouldn’t have replied with any response. It was my senior year of high school, and I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. I was depressed with no hope of surviving because it felt like the world was falling apart around me. Now with both my ovaries removed and currently in remission, I see myself thriving in ten years. In ten years, I see myself making ground in a nursing career after working hard in a difficult nursing education because I can assure myself now that university as a nursing student is difficult. I see myself in the pediatric oncology unit because I know how important nurses are to cancer patients, especially to pediatric patients. Pediatric oncology patients have the hospital as their second home, one they constantly come and stay in because of their sickness. Patients have to quickly and abruptly transition from a ‘normal’ healthy life at home to suddenly feeling sick and scared in a new, scary, and sterile hospital environment. After experiencing this first-hand as a child and as a teenager, I know how important nurses are for patients transitioning and having to learn to live and survive with cancer. The nurses who stayed by my side helped me as a child last year because my parents could not stay with me 24/7; most parents can’t stay by their child’s side all the time because they also have to keep living their lives with work and sleep. Nurses become your secondary caregiver, helping and cheering you on through painful chemo treatments and all the blood work you get. Nurses become your lifeline when your parents and loved ones can’t be, and it’s so important to have a lifeline in this scenario. After all that my nurses have done for me, I hope to see myself helping those in the same shoes that I was in.

As the leaves begin to turn and the crisp autumn air settles in, a familiar warmth permeates the season – a warmth that transcends the physical and delves deep into the realm of nostalgia and comfort. For many, myself included, this warmth is embodied in a single cup of steaming goodness: the iconic Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Latte. Much more than a mere beverage, this fall-inspired concoction has woven itself into the very fabric of my autumn narrative, becoming a cherished character in the story of my seasonal traditions and memories. The allure of the Pumpkin Spice Latte lies not only in its delectable blend of espresso, steamed milk, and pumpkin spice syrup but also in the emotions and memories it evokes with every sip. From the first hint of cinnamon and nutmeg to the comforting embrace of velvety foam, each sip is a journey through the sights, sounds, and scents of fall. It is a symphony of flavors that dances on the palate, conjuring images of crackling fires, golden leaves, and cozy sweaters. For me, the Pumpkin Spice Latte is more than just a seasonal indulgence; it is a tradition that marks the transition from the languid days of summer to the vibrant hues of autumn. Every year, as the days grow shorter and the air grows crisper, I eagerly anticipate the return of this beloved beverage, knowing that its arrival heralds the beginning of a new chapter in my fall narrative. From the first sip to the last, each encounter with the Pumpkin Spice Latte is an opportunity to savor the fleeting beauty of the season and embrace the simple joys of life. But beyond its sensory delights, the Pumpkin Spice Latte holds a more profound significance in my heart. It symbolizes connection – a shared experience that brings friends and family together to celebrate the season. Whether gathered around a cozy fireplace or strolling through a pumpkin patch, the Pumpkin Spice Latte catalyzes laughter, conversation, and cherished memories. It is a reminder that even amid life's chaos, there are moments of sweetness and warmth to be savored and shared with those we hold dear. In my fall narrative, the Pumpkin Spice Latte occupies a central role, serving as a constant companion through the changing seasons. It is a familiar presence accompanying me on brisk morning walks, lazy afternoons reading by the fire, and late-night conversations under a blanket of stars. With each sip, I am transported back to moments of pure contentment and joy, reminded of the simple pleasures that make life worth living.

I probably would have said dead if I were asked last year where I saw myself in 10 years. Or, more honestly, I probably wouldn’t have replied with any response. It was my senior year of high school, and I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. I was depressed with no hope of surviving because it felt like the world was falling apart around me. Now, with both my ovaries removed and currently in remission, I see myself thriving in ten years. In ten years, I see myself making ground in a nursing career after working hard in a problematic nursing education because I can assure myself now that university as a nursing student is complex. I see myself in the pediatric oncology unit because I know how critical nurses are to cancer patients, primarily pediatric patients. Pediatric oncology patients have the hospital as their second home, one they constantly come and stay in because of their sickness. Patients have to quickly and abruptly transition from a ‘normal’ healthy life at home to suddenly feeling sick and scared in a new, scary, and sterile hospital environment. After experiencing this first-hand as a child and as a teenager, I know how essential nurses are for patients transitioning and having to learn to live and survive with cancer. The nurses who stayed by my side helped me as a child last year because my parents could not stay with me 24/7; most parents can’t stay by their child’s side all the time because they also have to keep living their lives with work and sleep. Nurses become your secondary caregiver, helping and cheering you on through painful chemo treatments and all the blood work you get. Nurses become your lifeline when your parents and loved ones can’t be, and it’s so important to have a lifeline in this scenario. After all my nurses have done for me, I hope to see myself helping those in the same shoes I was in. After everything, I could continue my education, graduate high school in time, and start university with the help of the savings and scholarships I got from school and private organizations. I still work today and fight hard to make an impact around me, big or small. I see myself doing just the same in 10 years and further in the future. I am now a second-year nursing student at Seattle Pacific University. I am a part of my school’s NAPS club (nursing and pre-nursing students), active minds, and, most importantly, our haven club for LGBTQ+ students. I have seen how impactful our haven club is for many students and alums, fighting for safe and equal rights against our board. I have fought with our club, pursuing a lawsuit against our board to assure fair and equal rights with sexuality, and impacts like these are what I hope to help with now and in my future as a nurse. I hope to be a safe and supportive nurse for those who need it, including minorities like LGBTQ+ and BIPOC persons. Along with these extracurriculars, I am maintaining a rigorous academic workload as a nursing student, maintaining a good GPA, and passing all classes of different and complex course loads. I plan to continue this thorough courseload and keep a good GPA while helping make an impact within my community.

Minecraft, a sandbox game renowned for its boundless potential and endless opportunities, has captured the hearts and minds of millions worldwide. Amidst its vast virtual landscapes and infinite possibilities, players can pursue a myriad of activities and goals. However, amidst this abundance, a singular pursuit often emerges that resonates with each player, serving as a beacon of joy and fascination amidst the vastness of the Minecraft universe. That particular aspect of the game lies in the art of exploration and discovery. This journey never fails to ignite my imagination and evoke a sense of wonder. From the moment I first ventured into the blocky realms of Minecraft, I was captivated by the sheer vastness of its procedurally generated world. Every new world promises uncharted territories, hidden treasures, and breathtaking landscapes waiting to be unearthed. Whether traversing dense forests, scaling towering mountains, or delving deep into cavernous ravines, each expedition is an adventure waiting to unfold. The anticipation and curiosity accompanying every step fuels my desire to explore further and delve deeper into the unknown. One of the most compelling aspects of exploration in Minecraft is the element of unpredictability. Unlike scripted games with predetermined paths and outcomes, Minecraft offers a dynamic and ever-changing environment where no two worlds are alike. The thrill of stumbling upon a picturesque valley, an abandoned mineshaft, or an expansive ocean teeming with marine life is unparalleled. Each discovery feels like a personal triumph, a testament to the vastness of the Minecraft universe and the endless possibilities it holds. Moreover, exploration in Minecraft is not merely about uncovering new landscapes or landmarks; it is also a journey of self-discovery and growth. As I navigate through the diverse biomes and ecosystems of Minecraft, I am constantly challenged to adapt and innovate, utilizing the resources at my disposal to overcome obstacles and survive in this harsh yet beautiful world. Whether constructing elaborate shelters, mastering the art of farming, or harnessing the power of redstone to create intricate contraptions, every new skill acquired is a testament to my resilience and ingenuity as a player. Beyond the tangible rewards of exploration, there exists a profound sense of fulfillment that comes from immersing oneself in the immersive and immersive world of Minecraft. In a world where creativity knows no bounds and imagination reigns supreme, every discovery is an opportunity to unleash my inner architect, artist, or adventurer. Whether embarking on epic quests, constructing elaborate structures, or simply marveling at the beauty of the natural world, Minecraft offers a canvas upon which I can express myself freely and without limitations.

This album holds a special place in my heart, not only for its nostalgic nod to the original 1989 album but also for the storytelling and emotional depth that Taylor Swift infuses into each track. From the upbeat anthems to the heartfelt ballads, the songs from 1989 (Taylor's Version) resonate with me in different ways, capturing the essence of my experiences and emotions throughout the year. One song from the album that would undoubtedly make it onto my year's soundtrack is "Shake It Off." This infectious anthem gives off such positivity and resilience, serving as a reminder to brush off negativity and embrace life with confidence and joy. As I navigate the ups and downs of the year, "Shake It Off" serves as a motivational anthem, empowering me to let go of worries and doubts and dance through life with a carefree spirit. Another standout track from the album that would find its place on my year's soundtrack is "Wildest Dreams." This dreamy, atmospheric ballad transports myself to a world of romantic longing and nostalgia. With its lush production and emotional lyrics, "Wildest Dreams" encapsulates the bittersweet ache of longing for something out of reach. Throughout the year, as I reflect on past memories and contemplate future goals and dreams, "Wildest Dreams" serves as a reminder to cherish the moments of beauty and wonder that surround me. Additionally, "Blank Space" would be a fitting addition to my year's soundtrack. This clever, tongue-in-cheek track explores the complexities of love and relationships, challenging stereotypes and expectations with its playful lyrics. As I navigate the intricacies of personal connections and emotional vulnerability, "Blank Space" resonates with its sharp wit and unapologetic authenticity, reminding me to embrace my flaws and imperfections with confidence. Lastly, "Style" would round out my year's soundtrack with its irresistibly catchy melody and magnetic allure. This infectious track captures the intoxicating thrill of new romance and infatuation, evoking a sense of nostalgia for fleeting moments of passion and desire. As I reflect on the connections forged and memories made throughout the year, "Style" serves as a sonic backdrop to moments of bliss and enchantment, transporting me back to those electrifying encounters and stolen glances. In essence, the songs from 1989 (Taylor's Version) serve as a poignant soundtrack to my year, capturing the spectrum of emotions and experiences that have shaped my journey thus far. From the spirited resilience of "Shake It Off" to the wistful longing of "Wildest Dreams," each track offers a glimpse into the complexities of life and love, resonating with its timeless appeal and universal truths. As I continue to navigate the twists and turns of the year ahead, I find solace and inspiration in the melodies and lyrics of Taylor Swift's masterful reimagining of 1989, a testament to the enduring power of music to illuminate our lives and stir our souls.

It was a warm summer evening, the sun was setting as my parents and I gathered around the TV, controllers in hand, ready for another round of Mario Kart. With the familiar jingle of the game's opening theme, we eagerly selected our characters, each of us quickly picking our favorite racer. As the race commenced, the room erupted into cheers and shouts as shells were launched, banana peels slipped, and lightning bolts struck. In the midst of the chaos, a defining moment unfolded during the final lap of Rainbow Road. I found myself trailing behind, desperately trying to catch up to the leading pack. Just as victory seemed out of reach, I spotted an opportunity - a strategically placed mushroom power-up. With split-second timing, I activated it, propelling my kart forward with a burst of speed. As I soared through the air, narrowly avoiding obstacles and pitfalls, a sense of determination surged within me. With precision and nerve, I overtook my opponents one by one, the finish line drawing closer with each passing second. With a final burst of speed, I crossed the finish line in first place. At that moment, amidst the celebrations and laughs exchanged, I realized the true magic of Mario Kart. It wasn't just about winning or losing, but the shared experiences and memories forged through spirited competition and mutual camaraderie. The game had brought us together, becoming more than just pixels on a screen to create moments of genuine connection and joy.

Living with rheumatoid arthritis has been both a huge challenge and a unique learning experience for many parts of my life. From getting my initial diagnosis to living with my daily battles of pain and immobility, rheumatoid arthritis has fundamentally altered the way I live my life; rheumatoid arthritis has forced me to learn resilience, empathy, and determination. With these struggles, I had to learn to build up my strengths, creating a deeper understanding of myself and those around me with their own struggles. When I first got my diagnosis, I did not exactly understand the information that was given to me, and I definitely did not know what rheumatoid arthritis really was because no one in my family had it. But finally having a name for the everlasting joint pain, immobility, and fatigue was a settling feeling. Instead of letting my new diagnosis define me, I chose to instead embrace it and use it to gather more strengths. One of the most significant ways in which rheumatoid arthritis has shaped me is by helping me create a strong resilience to any adversity I find myself in. Every day presents a new or reoccurring set of challenges for me, from debilitating joint pain to barely being able to walk from one short location to the next. And yet, through it all, I have found an inner strength within myself, a resilience that allows me to persevere even in the hardest of times. Even with countless setbacks after setbacks, I have learned to bounce back stronger, refusing to allow my disease to dictate the course of my life. Another thing I have learned through all the struggles is just how deep my capacity for empathy and compassion really is towards everyone and everything. Having experienced the physical and emotional toll of chronic illness firsthand, I have gained a greater understanding of the struggles that many others face with similar battles. This empathy has translated into a deep desire to help others in any way I can and is one of the key reasons why I chose to pursue a nursing career. An important thing rheumatoid arthritis has forced me to learn is just how important self-care and prioritizing myself really is in the grand scheme of things. In a society that often glorifies keeping 100% busy and always being productive, I have had to learn in many difficult situations that it is vital to listen to my body and listen to what exactly it needs. Whether it's practicing mindfulness, engaging in stretches or soft exercises, or seeking emotional support, I have cultivated a multitude of coping strategies to help navigate the ups and downs of living with this disease.

Mental health problems have always surrounded me; it's a raging problem within my family. With my mom's chronic depression and my dad's manic bipolar, emotions were always different and challenging to understand. I was quick to find out that children can develop PTSD. An awful thing happened to me when I was six, and I was suddenly thrown into an environment of overprotective parents, doctor visits, and looks that have a depressing mixture of guilt and empathy. Memories came like a popup ad in my brain; faces that look remotely familiar turn into him with no logical sense or reason. Though I don't remember what I was before this event, I saw my mother silently grieve for the loss of her energetic, happy little girl. My dad's bipolar became worse. More nights down at the shed, drinking the night away in solitude. I remember when my mom broke a picture frame in our downstairs bathroom. While humorous to a nine year old, I've learned the reason to why at a little time. The first time I was at the hospital for my mental breakdown was the time I knew I wanted to become a nurse. The nurses were there for me, not just to make me better but to just let me know that there was someone there for me. At a time when I felt like I was alone, the nurses made sure to grab that thought by the throat and throw it out of my system. Reminders of food, coming in just to talk, or even just to sit with nothing but silence surrounding us. I want to be able to help people like those nurses who help me. They weren't doing it because it was their job, but they were doing it because it was their passion, and I want to be able to do such a thing because I know I have the passion for doing so. Working as a pediatric nurse in the future would be one of my dream positions because I know just how much of an impact nurses have on patients, especially children patients. Without the nurses I had around me and my family, I know things would not be the same and I would not know the lessons I know now because they helped me grow and learn. Financially, my family and I have always had a difficult time. When my father was younger, he was incarcerated and that made finding work with livable wages difficult to find. With my mom being the only person with a steady income, we had to rely on the government for help; my parents hated to have to rely on government payments; it was embarrassing for them. When we moved to Washington, I was still young. My parents did a good job hiding our financial burden from me; I never knew that lunch was something everyone had every day and wasn’t just a school day thing. It wasn’t until my dad had finally found a steady full-time job did we stop receiving government help, and I remember my parents being so happy, they felt like adults instead of children needing help from a higher source. When I started high school, my parents grilled me on making sure I received top grades; they would remind me that I would need to pay for college by myself because they could not afford to help me, so I would need top grades in order to get good scholarships. I started working at 15 years old to help start saving for my college tuition.

My favorite tarot card is the High Priestess. Within the deck, she stands as a symbol of intuition, inner wisdom, and the power of the subconscious mind. What captivates me about the High Priestess goes beyond the imagery; it's the depth of her meaning and the guidance she represents. Visually, the High Priestess exudes an aura of serenity and enigma. She sits between two pillars, a symbol of duality, representing the balance between opposing forces. Her presence is ethereal, adorned with the symbolism of the moon and crowned with a headdress resembling a tiara. Her veil signifies the hidden realms of the subconscious, inviting exploration into the mysteries that lie beneath the surface. What draws me most to this card is the depth of its symbolism. The High Priestess embodies the power of intuition and inner knowing. She encourages us to listen to our inner voice, to trust our instincts, and to explore the depths of our consciousness. In a world where external noise often drowns our inner wisdom, she serves as a reminder to delve into our inner sanctuary and tap into the wellspring of knowledge within. The High Priestess speaks to the importance of balance and harmony within ourselves. She urges us to embrace both the light and the shadow aspects of our being, acknowledging that true wisdom comes from integrating these contrasting elements. This resonates deeply with me as I navigate life's complexities, reminding me to honor all facets of myself and find equilibrium amidst the chaos. She represents the concept of the unknown and the mysteries yet to be unraveled. The veil she wears signifies the boundary between the conscious and the subconscious realms, inviting us to explore the depths of our psyche and discover hidden truths. In a way, she encourages a journey of self-discovery and personal growth, urging us to trust our intuition as a guiding light along this path. The High Priestess holds a special place in my heart because of the empowerment she embodies. She reminds me of the strength found in silence, in introspection, and in honoring the inner wisdom that often gets overlooked in the hustle and bustle of daily life. Embracing her energy allows me to embrace my intuition, trust my instincts, and navigate life with a deeper sense of understanding and clarity. The High Priestess stands as a beacon of intuition, inner wisdom, and the exploration of the subconscious. Her symbolism and depth of meaning resonate profoundly with me, serving as a reminder to embrace the power of intuition, seek balance within, and explore the mysteries that lie within the depths of my being.

In academia, where the pursuit of knowledge intertwines with personal growth, I have navigated a challenging path shaped by the intricate relationship between mental health, academic performance, and personal life. My journey through high school was shadowed by the weight of academic demands, leading to a diagnosis of major depression. This pivotal experience not only shaped my understanding of mental health but also profoundly influenced my approach to prioritizing it while pursuing higher education. The impact of mental health on academic performance and personal life is profound and intricate. For me, the burden of academic expectations and the relentless pursuit of excellence became catalysts for my mental health struggles. It was balancing rigorous coursework, extracurricular commitments, and the pressure to excel created an overwhelming environment. It seeped into my personal life, casting shadows over moments that should have been filled with joy and connection. My mental health challenges significantly affected my academic performance. Concentration wavered, energy diminished, and the once-vibrant curiosity became clouded by a persistent sense of despair. Academic pursuits that were once sources of passion transformed into insurmountable obstacles. The impact extended beyond grades, permeating friendships, family interactions, and my ability to engage in activities I once cherished. Acknowledging the importance of mental well-being, I embarked on a transformative journey to prioritize and nurture my mental health while pursuing higher education. Implementing strategies to safeguard my mental wellness became imperative. Adopting a proactive stance, I incorporated various practices into my daily routine. I've learned the value of self-compassion and the necessity of setting realistic expectations. Embracing the understanding that perfection is an unattainable standard, I allowed myself room for growth without succumbing to the weight of unrealistic academic demands. Seeking support became a cornerstone of my journey. I actively engaged with counselors, forming a support network that provided guidance and a safe space for introspection. This support system empowered me to navigate challenges and learn coping mechanisms essential for maintaining mental equilibrium. I've cultivated a sense of balance by establishing boundaries and learning to say no when necessary. Prioritizing activities aligned with my passions and resonated with my well-being allowed me to allocate time and energy more effectively. The interplay between mental health, academic performance, and personal life is an intricate dance that requires deliberate attention and nurturing. My journey through high school, marked by mental health challenges, propelled me to reevaluate my approach to academia and personal well-being. By acknowledging the significance of mental health and implementing intentional strategies, I strive to create a harmonious synergy between academic pursuits, personal growth, and mental well-being as I navigate higher education.

Mental health problems have always surrounded me; it's a raging problem within my family. With my mom's chronic depression and my dad's manic bipolar, emotions were always different and challenging to understand. Sometimes my mom wouldn't feel anything, like a numb zombie to the world around her. Sometimes my dad felt enough emotions for the entire family, getting quickly excited yet just as easily irritated at the same time. Sometimes I would live with my grandparents when they had to change their medication because it wasn't known how they would react to the new hormone changes created by their new pills. Seeing them take so many pills everyday created a unique desire to also take pills, so an evening "candy time" was imagined up; my parents would take their medicine while I would take my 'pills' made from sugar and off-brand smarties. I was quick to find out that children can develop PTSD. An awful man did an awful thing to me when I was six, and I was suddenly thrown into an environment of overprotective parents, doctor visits, and looks that have a depressing mixture of guilt and empathy. Memories came like a popup ad in my brain; faces that look remotely familiar turn into him with no logical sense or reason. Though I don't remember what I was before this event, I saw my mother silently grieve for the loss of her energetic, happy little girl. My dad's bipolar became worse. More nights down at the shed, drinking the night away in solitude. I remember when my mom broke a picture frame in our downstairs bathroom. While humorous to a nine year old, I've learned the reason to why at a little time. My mom came back from "hospital home" - as I would call it, apparently, her depression had been solved. Solved was really just pushed away feelings, a numb puppet to her body of strings. She punched the picture to feel something; it wasn't exactly a healthy solution or a good influence to me, but it was all she could think of doing. I guess it was ironic that the picture was of our family; there was glass broken on the floor and blood on the picture, smearing the color red on our family like a physical red flag. The first time I was at the hospital for my mental breakdown was the time I knew I wanted to become a nurse. The nurses were there for me, not just to make me better but to just let me know that there was someone there for me. At a time when I felt like I was alone, the nurses made sure to grab that thought by the throat and throw it out of my system. Reminders of food, coming in just to talk, or even just to sit with nothing but silence surrounding us. I want to be able to help people like those nurses who help me. They weren't doing it because it was their job, but they were doing it because it was their passion, and I want to be able to do such a thing because I know I have the passion for doing so. Working as a pediatric nurse in the future would be one of my dream positions because I know just how much of an impact nurses have on patients, especially children patients. Without the nurses I had around me and my family, I know things would not be the same and I would not know the lessons I know now because they helped me grow and learn.

Mental health problems have always surrounded me; it's a raging problem within my family. With my mom's chronic depression and my dad's manic bipolar, emotions were always different and challenging to understand. Sometimes my mom wouldn't feel anything, like a numb zombie to the world around her. Sometimes my dad felt enough emotions for the entire family, getting quickly excited yet just as easily irritated at the same time. Sometimes I would live with my grandparents when they had to change their medication because it wasn't known how they would react to the new hormone changes created by their new pills. Seeing them take so many pills everyday created a unique desire to also take pills, so an evening "candy time" was imagined up; my parents would take their medicine while I would take my 'pills' made from sugar and off-brand smarties. I was quick to find out that children can develop PTSD. An awful man did an awful thing to me when I was six, and I was suddenly thrown into an environment of overprotective parents, doctor visits, and looks that have a depressing mixture of guilt and empathy. Memories came like a popup ad in my brain; faces that look remotely familiar turn into him with no logical sense or reason. Though I don't remember what I was before this event, I saw my mother silently grieve for the loss of her energetic, happy little girl. My dad's bipolar became worse. More nights down at the shed, drinking the night away in solitude. I remember when my mom broke a picture frame in our downstairs bathroom. While humorous to a nine year old, I've learned the reason to why at a little time. My mom came back from "hospital home" - as I would call it, apparently, her depression had been solved. Solved was really just pushed away feelings, a numb puppet to her body of strings. She punched the picture to feel something; it wasn't exactly a healthy solution or a good influence to me, but it was all she could think of doing. I guess it was ironic that the picture was of our family; there was glass broken on the floor and blood on the picture, smearing the color red on our family like a physical red flag. The first time I was at the hospital for my mental breakdown was the time I knew I wanted to become a nurse. The nurses were there for me, not just to make me better but to just let me know that there was someone there for me. At a time when I felt like I was alone, the nurses made sure to grab that thought by the throat and throw it out of my system. Reminders of food, coming in just to talk, or even just to sit with nothing but silence surrounding us. I want to be able to help people like those nurses who help me. They weren't doing it because it was their job, but they were doing it because it was their passion, and I want to be able to do such a thing because I know I have the passion for doing so. Working as a pediatric nurse in the future would be one of my dream positions because I know just how much of an impact nurses have on patients, especially children patients. Without the nurses I had around me and my family, I know things would not be the same and I would not know the lessons I know now because they helped me grow and learn.

The convergence of healthcare and technology has often blurred the lines between science fiction and reality. As I embark on my journey into nursing, I foresee a pivotal role in transforming futuristic concepts into tangible advancements within the healthcare landscape. One area where nursing could bridge the gap between science fiction and science fact lies in personalized medicine. The concept of tailoring treatments based on an individual's genetic makeup and unique health profile has long been a staple of speculative fiction. However, integrating nursing into this evolving field can propel this concept from fiction to reality. Nursing education equips me with a profound understanding of patient care, combining clinical expertise with a holistic approach to individual health. In a world where precision medicine is gaining traction, nurses could play a crucial role as patient advocates, facilitating the implementation of personalized treatment plans. By collaborating with interdisciplinary teams, analyzing patient data, and leveraging technological advancements, nurses can help translate the theoretical potential of personalized medicine into practical applications. The fusion of nursing and technology holds immense promise in augmenting patient care. Science fiction often portrays futuristic healthcare settings with advanced monitoring systems, smart devices, and AI-assisted care. Through my study in nursing, I aim to contribute to realizing these innovations by embracing and integrating technological tools into patient care practices. For instance, nurses can collect real-time patient data by leveraging wearable health monitoring devices, allowing for proactive intervention and personalized care plans. Additionally, understanding and utilizing emerging technologies like telemedicine and virtual reality in nursing practice can revolutionize patient education, rehabilitation, and even remote care delivery. Another realm of science fiction that nursing can help transform into reality is the concept of compassionate and empathetic AI-driven caregivers. While the idea of AI offering emotional support might seem like fiction, nurses can harness their understanding of human emotions, and patient needs to guide the development of AI tools that complement, rather than replace, human care. By integrating nursing expertise with technological advancements, I aspire to contribute to a healthcare landscape where personalized medicine, advanced technology, and compassionate care converge. Through my dedication to nursing, I aim to turn the futuristic visions of science fiction into tangible scientific advancements that enhance patient outcomes, improve healthcare accessibility, and revolutionize how we approach healthcare delivery. My pursuit of a nursing degree is not merely about mastering the intricacies of patient care but also about contributing to the transformation of science fiction into science fact. By integrating nursing principles with cutting-edge technology, I envision a future where personalized medicine, advanced healthcare technologies, and compassionate caregiving become the new reality, reshaping the landscape of healthcare delivery for the better.

Growing up, I was surrounded by the pervasive impact of mental health issues within my family. My mother battled chronic depression, while my father wrestled with manic bipolar disorder. The emotional rollercoaster was ever-present and often bewildering. Witnessing their struggles, coping with medication changes, and living with the unpredictable nature of their conditions profoundly impacted me. I found solace in a unique ritual; as my parents took their necessary medications, I'd join in with my 'pills,' crafted from sugar and off-brand smarties. Little did I know that these experiences would mark the beginning of my own journey with mental health challenges, as a traumatic event at the age of six altered the course of my life. Suddenly thrust into a world of overprotective care, doctor visits, and the haunting memories of that event, I grappled with the aftermath. Faces would morph into haunting reminders, triggering emotions I struggled to comprehend. The effect on my parents was palpable: my mother mourned the loss of her once vibrant child, while my father's bipolar disorder worsened, leading to solitary nights spent drinking away his sorrows. Amidst this turmoil, I witnessed the toll of untreated mental health issues. My mother's stint in the hospital, deemed a 'solution,' merely silenced her emotions, turning her into a numb version of herself. I vividly remember the day she shattered a family picture in a fit of frustration, an act that symbolized the brokenness within our family. It was during my own mental health crisis that I encountered a beacon of hope: the nurses who provided unwavering support. In my darkest moments, they didn't just tend to my physical needs; they offered companionship, kindness, and a reminder that I wasn't alone. Their dedication went beyond duty; it stemmed from genuine passion. Their impact on me was profound, igniting a fervor within me to pay it forward. My aspiration to become a pediatric nurse stems from this tumultuous journey. I've experienced firsthand the significance of nurses, especially in the realm of pediatric oncology. Having battled ovarian cancer myself during my senior year of high school, I intimately understand the fear, uncertainty, and reliance on nurses as pillars of strength. In the pediatric oncology unit, nurses become not just caregivers, but lifelines for children whose lives have been upended by illness. I yearn to be that guiding light, offering support and comfort to young patients and their families during their most trying times. Despite the hurdles, I've persevered. Through scholarships and unwavering determination, I've embarked on my nursing education. In ten years, I envision myself thriving in my nursing career, making a difference in the lives of those facing similar struggles. I see myself standing beside pediatric oncology patients, offering empathy, care, and hope in their darkest hours. My journey has shaped my resolve. I remain committed to making an impact, no matter how small, and I see myself continuing this dedication in the years to come.

Growing up, I was surrounded by the pervasive impact of mental health issues within my family. My mother battled chronic depression, while my father wrestled with manic bipolar disorder. The emotional rollercoaster was ever-present and often bewildering. Witnessing their struggles, coping with medication changes, and living with the unpredictable nature of their conditions profoundly impacted me. I found solace in a unique ritual; as my parents took their necessary medications, I'd join in with my 'pills,' crafted from sugar and off-brand smarties. Little did I know that these experiences would mark the beginning of my own journey with mental health challenges, as a traumatic event at the age of six altered the course of my life. Suddenly thrust into a world of overprotective care, doctor visits, and the haunting memories of that event, I grappled with the aftermath. Faces would morph into haunting reminders, triggering emotions I struggled to comprehend. The effect on my parents was palpable: my mother mourned the loss of her once vibrant child, while my father's bipolar disorder worsened, leading to solitary nights spent drinking away his sorrows. Amidst this turmoil, I witnessed the toll of untreated mental health issues. My mother's stint in the hospital, deemed a 'solution,' merely silenced her emotions, turning her into a numb version of herself. I vividly remember the day she shattered a family picture in a fit of frustration, an act that symbolized the brokenness within our family. It was during my own mental health crisis that I encountered a beacon of hope: the nurses who provided unwavering support. In my darkest moments, they didn't just tend to my physical needs; they offered companionship, kindness, and a reminder that I wasn't alone. Their dedication went beyond duty; it stemmed from genuine passion. Their impact on me was profound, igniting a fervor within me to pay it forward. My aspiration to become a pediatric nurse stems from this tumultuous journey. I've experienced firsthand the significance of nurses, especially in the realm of pediatric oncology. Having battled ovarian cancer myself during my senior year of high school, I intimately understand the fear, uncertainty, and reliance on nurses as pillars of strength. In the pediatric oncology unit, nurses become not just caregivers, but lifelines for children whose lives have been upended by illness. I yearn to be that guiding light, offering support and comfort to young patients and their families during their most trying times. Despite the hurdles, I've persevered. Through scholarships and unwavering determination, I've embarked on my nursing education. In ten years, I envision myself thriving in my nursing career, making a difference in the lives of those facing similar struggles. I see myself standing beside pediatric oncology patients, offering empathy, care, and hope in their darkest hours. My journey has shaped my resolve. I remain committed to making an impact, no matter how small, and I see myself continuing this dedication in the years to come.

Growing up, I was surrounded by the pervasive impact of mental health issues within my family. My mother battled chronic depression, while my father wrestled with manic bipolar disorder. The emotional rollercoaster was ever-present and often bewildering. Witnessing their struggles, coping with medication changes, and living with the unpredictable nature of their conditions profoundly impacted me. I found solace in a unique ritual; as my parents took their necessary medications, I'd join in with my 'pills,' crafted from sugar and off-brand smarties. Little did I know that these experiences would mark the beginning of my own journey with mental health challenges, as a traumatic event at the age of six altered the course of my life. Suddenly thrust into a world of overprotective care, doctor visits, and the haunting memories of that event, I grappled with the aftermath. Faces would morph into haunting reminders, triggering emotions I struggled to comprehend. The effect on my parents was palpable: my mother mourned the loss of her once vibrant child, while my father's bipolar disorder worsened, leading to solitary nights spent drinking away his sorrows. Amidst this turmoil, I witnessed the toll of untreated mental health issues. My mother's stint in the hospital, deemed a 'solution,' merely silenced her emotions, turning her into a numb version of herself. I vividly remember the day she shattered a family picture in a fit of frustration, an act that symbolized the brokenness within our family. It was during my own mental health crisis that I encountered a beacon of hope: the nurses who provided unwavering support. In my darkest moments, they didn't just tend to my physical needs; they offered companionship, kindness, and a reminder that I wasn't alone. Their dedication went beyond duty; it stemmed from genuine passion. Their impact on me was profound, igniting a fervor within me to pay it forward. My aspiration to become a pediatric nurse stems from this tumultuous journey. I've experienced firsthand the significance of nurses, especially in the realm of pediatric oncology. Having battled ovarian cancer myself during my senior year of high school, I intimately understand the fear, uncertainty, and reliance on nurses as pillars of strength. In the pediatric oncology unit, nurses become not just caregivers, but lifelines for children whose lives have been upended by illness. I yearn to be that guiding light, offering support and comfort to young patients and their families during their most trying times. Despite the hurdles, I've persevered. Through scholarships and unwavering determination, I've embarked on my nursing education. In ten years, I envision myself thriving in my nursing career, making a difference in the lives of those facing similar struggles. I see myself standing beside pediatric oncology patients, offering empathy, care, and hope in their darkest hours. My journey has shaped my resolve. I remain committed to making an impact, no matter how small, and I see myself continuing this dedication in the years to come.

Growing up, I was surrounded by the pervasive impact of mental health issues within my family. My mother battled chronic depression, while my father wrestled with manic bipolar disorder. The emotional rollercoaster was ever-present and often bewildering. Witnessing their struggles, coping with medication changes, and living with the unpredictable nature of their conditions profoundly impacted me. I found solace in a unique ritual; as my parents took their necessary medications, I'd join in with my 'pills,' crafted from sugar and off-brand smarties. Little did I know that these experiences would mark the beginning of my own journey with mental health challenges, as a traumatic event at the age of six altered the course of my life. Suddenly thrust into a world of overprotective care, doctor visits, and the haunting memories of that event, I grappled with the aftermath. Faces would morph into haunting reminders, triggering emotions I struggled to comprehend. The effect on my parents was palpable: my mother mourned the loss of her once vibrant child, while my father's bipolar disorder worsened, leading to solitary nights spent drinking away his sorrows. Amidst this turmoil, I witnessed the toll of untreated mental health issues. My mother's stint in the hospital, deemed a 'solution,' merely silenced her emotions, turning her into a numb version of herself. I vividly remember the day she shattered a family picture in a fit of frustration, an act that symbolized the brokenness within our family. It was during my own mental health crisis that I encountered a beacon of hope: the nurses who provided unwavering support. In my darkest moments, they didn't just tend to my physical needs; they offered companionship, kindness, and a reminder that I wasn't alone. Their dedication went beyond duty; it stemmed from genuine passion. Their impact on me was profound, igniting a fervor within me to pay it forward. My aspiration to become a pediatric nurse stems from this tumultuous journey. I've experienced firsthand the significance of nurses, especially in the realm of pediatric oncology. Having battled ovarian cancer myself during my senior year of high school, I intimately understand the fear, uncertainty, and reliance on nurses as pillars of strength. In the pediatric oncology unit, nurses become not just caregivers, but lifelines for children whose lives have been upended by illness. I yearn to be that guiding light, offering support and comfort to young patients and their families during their most trying times. Despite the hurdles, I've persevered. Through scholarships and unwavering determination, I've embarked on my nursing education. In ten years, I envision myself thriving in my nursing career, making a difference in the lives of those facing similar struggles. I see myself standing beside pediatric oncology patients, offering empathy, care, and hope in their darkest hours. My journey has shaped my resolve. I remain committed to making an impact, no matter how small, and I see myself continuing this dedication in the years to come.

Growing up, I was surrounded by the pervasive impact of mental health issues within my family. My mother battled chronic depression, while my father wrestled with manic bipolar disorder. The emotional rollercoaster was ever-present and often bewildering. Witnessing their struggles, coping with medication changes, and living with the unpredictable nature of their conditions profoundly impacted me. I found solace in a unique ritual; as my parents took their necessary medications, I'd join in with my 'pills,' crafted from sugar and off-brand smarties. Little did I know that these experiences would mark the beginning of my own journey with mental health challenges, as a traumatic event at the age of six altered the course of my life. Suddenly thrust into a world of overprotective care, doctor visits, and the haunting memories of that event, I grappled with the aftermath. Faces would morph into haunting reminders, triggering emotions I struggled to comprehend. The effect on my parents was palpable: my mother mourned the loss of her once vibrant child, while my father's bipolar disorder worsened, leading to solitary nights spent drinking away his sorrows. Amidst this turmoil, I witnessed the toll of untreated mental health issues. My mother's stint in the hospital, deemed a 'solution,' merely silenced her emotions, turning her into a numb version of herself. I vividly remember the day she shattered a family picture in a fit of frustration, an act that symbolized the brokenness within our family. It was during my own mental health crisis that I encountered a beacon of hope: the nurses who provided unwavering support. In my darkest moments, they didn't just tend to my physical needs; they offered companionship, kindness, and a reminder that I wasn't alone. Their dedication went beyond duty; it stemmed from genuine passion. Their impact on me was profound, igniting a fervor within me to pay it forward. My aspiration to become a pediatric nurse stems from this tumultuous journey. I've experienced firsthand the significance of nurses, especially in the realm of pediatric oncology. Having battled ovarian cancer myself during my senior year of high school, I intimately understand the fear, uncertainty, and reliance on nurses as pillars of strength. In the pediatric oncology unit, nurses become not just caregivers, but lifelines for children whose lives have been upended by illness. I yearn to be that guiding light, offering support and comfort to young patients and their families during their most trying times. Despite the hurdles, I've persevered. Through scholarships and unwavering determination, I've embarked on my nursing education. In ten years, I envision myself thriving in my nursing career, making a difference in the lives of those facing similar struggles. I see myself standing beside pediatric oncology patients, offering empathy, care, and hope in their darkest hours. My journey has shaped my resolve. I remain committed to making an impact, no matter how small, and I see myself continuing this dedication in the years to come.

Growing up, I was surrounded by the pervasive impact of mental health issues within my family. My mother battled chronic depression, while my father wrestled with manic bipolar disorder. The emotional rollercoaster was ever-present and often bewildering. Witnessing their struggles, coping with medication changes, and living with the unpredictable nature of their conditions profoundly impacted me. I found solace in a unique ritual; as my parents took their necessary medications, I'd join in with my 'pills,' crafted from sugar and off-brand smarties. Little did I know that these experiences would mark the beginning of my own journey with mental health challenges, as a traumatic event at the age of six altered the course of my life. Suddenly thrust into a world of overprotective care, doctor visits, and the haunting memories of that event, I grappled with the aftermath. Faces would morph into haunting reminders, triggering emotions I struggled to comprehend. The effect on my parents was palpable: my mother mourned the loss of her once vibrant child, while my father's bipolar disorder worsened, leading to solitary nights spent drinking away his sorrows. Amidst this turmoil, I witnessed the toll of untreated mental health issues. My mother's stint in the hospital, deemed a 'solution,' merely silenced her emotions, turning her into a numb version of herself. I vividly remember the day she shattered a family picture in a fit of frustration, an act that symbolized the brokenness within our family. It was during my own mental health crisis that I encountered a beacon of hope: the nurses who provided unwavering support. In my darkest moments, they didn't just tend to my physical needs; they offered companionship, kindness, and a reminder that I wasn't alone. Their dedication went beyond duty; it stemmed from genuine passion. Their impact on me was profound, igniting a fervor within me to pay it forward. My aspiration to become a pediatric nurse stems from this tumultuous journey. I've experienced firsthand the significance of nurses, especially in the realm of pediatric oncology. Having battled ovarian cancer myself during my senior year of high school, I intimately understand the fear, uncertainty, and reliance on nurses as pillars of strength. In the pediatric oncology unit, nurses become not just caregivers, but lifelines for children whose lives have been upended by illness. I yearn to be that guiding light, offering support and comfort to young patients and their families during their most trying times. Despite the hurdles, I've persevered. Through scholarships and unwavering determination, I've embarked on my nursing education. In ten years, I envision myself thriving in my nursing career, making a difference in the lives of those facing similar struggles. I see myself standing beside pediatric oncology patients, offering empathy, care, and hope in their darkest hours. My journey has shaped my resolve. I remain committed to making an impact, no matter how small, and I see myself continuing this dedication in the years to come.

If I could choose any occupation, my path would be clear: I'd pursue a career in nursing. My journey to this decision is deeply personal, rooted in the challenges and struggles that have shaped my life. Growing up, I was surrounded by the pervasive impact of mental health issues within my family. My mother battled chronic depression, while my father wrestled with manic bipolar disorder. The emotional rollercoaster was ever-present and often bewildering. Witnessing their struggles, coping with medication changes, and living with the unpredictable nature of their conditions profoundly impacted me. I found solace in a unique ritual; as my parents took their necessary medications, I'd join in with my 'pills,' crafted from sugar and off-brand smarties. Little did I know that these experiences would mark the beginning of my own journey with mental health challenges, as a traumatic event at the age of six altered the course of my life. Suddenly thrust into a world of overprotective care, doctor visits, and the haunting memories of that event, I grappled with the aftermath. Faces would morph into haunting reminders, triggering emotions I struggled to comprehend. The effect on my parents was palpable: my mother mourned the loss of her once vibrant child, while my father's bipolar disorder worsened, leading to solitary nights spent drinking away his sorrows. Amidst this turmoil, I witnessed the toll of untreated mental health issues. My mother's stint in the hospital, deemed a 'solution,' merely silenced her emotions, turning her into a numb version of herself. I vividly remember the day she shattered a family picture in a fit of frustration, an act that symbolized the brokenness within our family. It was during my own mental health crisis that I encountered a beacon of hope: the nurses who provided unwavering support. In my darkest moments, they didn't just tend to my physical needs; they offered companionship, kindness, and a reminder that I wasn't alone. Their dedication went beyond duty; it stemmed from genuine passion. Their impact on me was profound, igniting a fervor within me to pay it forward. My aspiration to become a pediatric nurse stems from this tumultuous journey. I've experienced firsthand the significance of nurses, especially in the realm of pediatric oncology. Having battled ovarian cancer myself during my senior year of high school, I intimately understand the fear, uncertainty, and reliance on nurses as pillars of strength. In the pediatric oncology unit, nurses become not just caregivers but lifelines for children whose lives have been upended by illness. I yearn to be that guiding light, offering support and comfort to young patients and their families during their most trying times. Despite the hurdles, I've persevered. Through scholarships and unwavering determination, I've embarked on my nursing education. In ten years, I envision myself thriving in my nursing career, making a difference in the lives of those facing similar struggles. I see myself standing beside pediatric oncology patients, offering empathy, care and hope in their darkest hours. My journey has shaped my resolve. I remain committed to making an impact, no matter how small, and I see myself continuing this dedication in the years to come.

Understanding the nature of our universe is an endeavor that transcends mere curiosity; it's an imperative pursuit that holds the key to unlocking the mysteries that govern our existence. The importance of delving into the depths of the cosmos lies not only in expanding our knowledge but also in shaping our perception of reality and fostering advancements crucial for the future of humanity. At its core, the quest to comprehend the universe signifies an innate human curiosity. Since ancient times, we've sought to grasp the workings of the cosmos, gazing at the stars and pondering the celestial ballet unfolding above. This curiosity, ingrained in our collective psyche, has driven monumental scientific discoveries and technological advancements. Understanding the universe not only satisfies our intellectual curiosity but also broadens our horizons, pushing the boundaries of human knowledge. Moreover, comprehending the nature of our universe has tangible, practical implications. Many scientific breakthroughs, from understanding fundamental forces to harnessing renewable energy sources, stem from studying the principles governing the cosmos. Concepts like quantum mechanics, relativity, and the properties of dark matter and energy remain enigmatic yet hold immense potential for technological innovation. Insights derived from cosmology and astrophysics often find applications in diverse fields, from medicine to engineering, revolutionizing our way of life. Furthermore, comprehending the universe grants us a profound sense of perspective. It humbles us in the face of cosmic scales, reminding us of our place in the vastness of space and time. Such understanding can foster a sense of interconnectedness, nurturing a global perspective that transcends boundaries and fosters cooperation among nations. It underscores the fragility of our planet and reinforces the urgency of sustainable practices, compelling us to protect and preserve our homes in the cosmos. To better understand the nature of our universe, a multifaceted approach is essential. Interdisciplinary collaboration between fields like astronomy, physics, mathematics, and philosophy is crucial. Employing cutting-edge technologies such as space telescopes, particle accelerators, and computational models enables us to explore and simulate the cosmos in ways previously unimaginable. Additionally, fostering a mindset that embraces open inquiry, critical thinking, and innovation is vital. Encouraging curiosity in future generations and investing in science education ensures a steady stream of inquisitive minds dedicated to unraveling the universe's mysteries. Moreover, international collaborations and the sharing of knowledge and resources across borders amplify our collective efforts toward understanding the cosmos. In essence, the quest to understand the nature of our universe transcends scientific exploration; it's a journey that enriches our understanding of ourselves and our place in the cosmos. By employing a multidimensional approach and nurturing a culture of curiosity and collaboration, we can continue unveiling the universe's intricacies and propel humanity toward a brighter, more enlightened future.

Growing up, I was surrounded by the pervasive impact of mental health issues within my family. My mother battled chronic depression, while my father wrestled with manic bipolar disorder. The emotional rollercoaster was ever-present and often bewildering. Witnessing their struggles, coping with medication changes, and living with the unpredictable nature of their conditions profoundly impacted me. I found solace in a unique ritual; as my parents took their necessary medications, I'd join in with my 'pills,' crafted from sugar and off-brand smarties. Little did I know that these experiences would mark the beginning of my own journey with mental health challenges, as a traumatic event at the age of six altered the course of my life. Suddenly thrust into a world of overprotective care, doctor visits, and the haunting memories of that event, I grappled with the aftermath. Faces would morph into haunting reminders, triggering emotions I struggled to comprehend. The effect on my parents was palpable: my mother mourned the loss of her once vibrant child, while my father's bipolar disorder worsened, leading to solitary nights spent drinking away his sorrows. Amidst this turmoil, I witnessed the toll of untreated mental health issues. My mother's stint in the hospital deemed a 'solution,' merely silenced her emotions, turning her into a numb version of herself. I vividly remember the day she shattered a family picture in a fit of frustration, an act that symbolized the brokenness within our family. It was during my own mental health crisis that I encountered a beacon of hope: the nurses who provided unwavering support. In my darkest moments, they didn't just tend to my physical needs; they offered companionship, kindness, and a reminder that I wasn't alone. Their dedication went beyond duty; it stemmed from genuine passion. Their impact on me was profound, igniting a fervor within me to pay it forward. My aspiration to become a pediatric nurse stems from this tumultuous journey. I've experienced firsthand the significance of nurses, especially in the realm of pediatric oncology. Having battled ovarian cancer myself during my senior year of high school, I intimately understand the fear, uncertainty, and reliance on nurses as pillars of strength. In the pediatric oncology unit, nurses become not just caregivers but lifelines for children whose lives have been upended by illness. I yearn to be that guiding light, offering support and comfort to young patients and their families during their most trying times. Despite the hurdles, I've persevered. Through scholarships and unwavering determination, I've embarked on my nursing education. In ten years, I envision myself thriving in my nursing career, making a difference in the lives of those facing similar struggles. I see myself standing beside pediatric oncology patients, offering empathy, care and hope in their darkest hours. My journey has shaped my resolve. I remain committed to making an impact, no matter how small, and I see myself continuing this dedication in the years to come.

My dream is to help as many people as I can with what I do best, making people comfortable and happy. Going to college and getting an education will help me do that because I want to achieve this dream by becoming a nurse. When I was a child, I developed cancer, and I saw those around me get sicker and sicker. My family and I wanted to keep fighting, but I saw those around me that had fought enough and just wanted to die with peace and dignity. The nurses around me helped both of our mentalities in equal ways and with equal passion. They fought with me, getting me comfortable and happy when my parents had to go to work, they made sure I was not alone and always helped me keep my will to fight. With the children that did not want to fight anymore, they stood by them and made sure to keep them comfortable, helping both the child and their family by giving comfort and love. No matter what families wanted, the nurses were always there to do whatever they could to help, going above and beyond what their jobs required them to do; many nurses do that the more I learn about other nurses. My dream is to help others the way those nurses helped me and the other children I saw around me. I want to become a nurse to help others achieve comfort and peace, no matter how they want to achieve that goal. Whether they want to achieve that goal by getting healthy and curing what ever disease they have, or whether that means helping them manage pain control or end-of-life care. I want to become a nurse and not only help patients by giving them comfort as they see fit, but also help the family they may have by giving them comfort as well because it is the second most important thing other than the patient themself. I have always been thankful for those nurses that took care of me when I was sick in the hospital with cancer. They were kind and passionate, always going beyond what they needed to do to help me be happy and comfortable, reassuring my parents they were doing what they could to help me when they could not themselves. I want to repay their kindness by joining the nursing community and helping those like they did with me. It is my dream to do as such.

The song I chose for my present self is "Francis Forever" by Mitski, and the song I decided to reflect my wanted future is "Lose Yourself" by Eminem. Choosing just two songs to describe me and my future was a challenging task to do because it is difficult to put just one personality feature and just one possible wanted future into a decision. However, I would like to believe these two songs would, and an explanation would be enough to show myself as a person. The song "Francis Forever" is a ballad about isolation and inadequacy (in the sense of being a lover). While I do not relate to the relationship aspect of the piece, I do relate to the overall feeling of loneliness and of not ever being enough. Being a part of the family where I am supposed to be "the smart one" and the one with a promising future, it can be hard to feel that everything I am doing is enough to make my family proud. In the future, I hope to be someone that does not have to worry about another person's goals and expectations for me, hence why I chose the piece "Lose Yourself." The song is about losing yourself in the moment, not thinking about other worries and stresses of life but focusing on the now, and I hope to achieve that mindset in the future.

I grew up watching my dad and brothers playing video games; I grew up playing many different video games myself. Whether I was playing on xbox live Call of Duty or on my computer playing League of Legends, I fully understand and agree with the actions of the quote above. People online, in general, can be quite rude and socially immoral, but I've seen such anger and verbal abuse thrown around in online gaming forums. People will yell, threaten, and make fun of you for no reason other than they can and know they have no consequence within online forums in video games. No matter the game, I tend to find most live chats to be very toxic; create an account of League of Legends and your first game will be full of insults and those trying to bully you off the account. Personally, I see no rhyme or reason to why people are so mad and chaotic within online chat forums, the only real connection I see between different forums with such toxic behavior is the lack of consequence. It does not matter the game, area of the world, or age, there is always such toxic behavior; but when looking at the connections between the games, you see that you never often see the same person again, so you can talk and discourse in any way you want, and you won't face any consequence, it's not like they know you anyway. Multiplayer games like Stardew Valley and Raft do not have these toxic behaviors, yet they still are with people you may have not ever met before, so what makes those games different than MMOs? It would also be consequences. When you play the former games, you play with that person multiple times, you see them and play with them more than once; you create a relationship with this person and you then face consequences for being socially immoral towards them. With MMOs like Valorant and League of Legends, you normally do not play with a person twice, and if you do, it is an accident. You don't talk to these people in these games on a long term basis, you don't have to face any sort of consequence when being socially immoral because you won't ever talk and play with that person again, so they can't call you out and you don't ever develop a relationship. It is with that reason why I enjoy calmer and more free games like Stardew Valley because not only can you play them by yourself, but if you play it with others, you create a friendly relationship with that person and work together.

My dream is to help as many people as I can with what I do best, making people comfortable and happy. Going to college and getting an education will help me do that because I want to achieve this dream by becoming a nurse. When I was a child, I developed cancer, and I saw those around me get sicker and sicker. My family and I wanted to keep fighting, but I saw those around me that had fought enough and just wanted to die with peace and dignity. The nurses around me helped both of our mentalities in equal ways and with equal passion. They fought with me, getting me comfortable and happy when my parents had to go to work, they made sure I was not alone and always helped me keep my will to fight. With the children that did not want to fight anymore, they stood by them and made sure to keep them comfortable, helping both the child and their family by giving comfort and love. No matter what families wanted, the nurses were always there to do whatever they could to help, going above and beyond what their jobs required them to do; many nurses do that the more I learn about other nurses. My dream is to help others the way those nurses helped me and the other children I saw around me. I want to become a nurse to help others achieve comfort and peace, no matter how they want to achieve that goal. Whether they want to achieve that goal by getting healthy and curing what ever disease they have, or whether that means helping them manage pain control or end-of-life care. I want to become a nurse and not only help patients by giving them comfort as they see fit, but also help the family they may have by giving them comfort as well because it is the second most important thing other than the patient themself. I have always been thankful for those nurses that took care of me when I was sick in the hospital with cancer. They were kind and passionate, always going beyond what they needed to do to help me be happy and comfortable, reassuring my parents they were doing what they could to help me when they could not themselves. I want to repay their kindness by joining the nursing community and helping those like they did with me. It is my dream to do as such.

My dream is to help as many people as I can with what I do best, making people comfortable and happy. Going to college and getting an education will help me do that because I want to achieve this dream by becoming a nurse. When I was a child, I developed cancer, and I saw those around me get sicker and sicker. My family and I wanted to keep fighting, but I saw those around me that had fought enough and just wanted to die with peace and dignity. The nurses around me helped both of our mentalities in equal ways and with equal passion. They fought with me, getting me comfortable and happy when my parents had to go to work, they made sure I was not alone and always helped me keep my will to fight. With the children that did not want to fight anymore, they stood by them and made sure to keep them comfortable, helping both the child and their family by giving comfort and love. No matter what families wanted, the nurses were always there to do whatever they could to help, going above and beyond what their jobs required them to do; many nurses do that the more I learn about other nurses. My dream is to help others the way those nurses helped me and the other children I saw around me. I want to become a nurse to help others achieve comfort and peace, no matter how they want to achieve that goal. Whether they want to achieve that goal by getting healthy and curing what ever disease they have, or whether that means helping them manage pain control or end-of-life care. I want to become a nurse and not only help patients by giving them comfort as they see fit, but also help the family they may have by giving them comfort as well because it is the second most important thing other than the patient themself. I have always been thankful for those nurses that took care of me when I was sick in the hospital with cancer. They were kind and passionate, always going beyond what they needed to do to help me be happy and comfortable, reassuring my parents they were doing what they could to help me when they could not themselves. I want to repay their kindness by joining the nursing community and helping those like they did with me. It is my dream to do as such.

My dream is to help as many people as I can with what I do best, making people comfortable and happy. Going to college and getting an education will help me do that because I want to achieve this dream by becoming a nurse. When I was a child, I developed cancer, and I saw those around me get sicker and sicker. My family and I wanted to keep fighting, but I saw those around me that had fought enough and just wanted to die with peace and dignity. The nurses around me helped both of our mentalities in equal ways and with equal passion. They fought with me, getting me comfortable and happy when my parents had to go to work, they made sure I was not alone and always helped me keep my will to fight. With the children that did not want to fight anymore, they stood by them and made sure to keep them comfortable, helping both the child and their family by giving comfort and love. No matter what families wanted, the nurses were always there to do whatever they could to help, going above and beyond what their jobs required them to do; many nurses do that the more I learn about other nurses. My dream is to help others the way those nurses helped me and the other children I saw around me. I want to become a nurse to help others achieve comfort and peace, no matter how they want to achieve that goal. Whether they want to achieve that goal by getting healthy and curing what ever disease they have, or whether that means helping them manage pain control or end-of-life care. I want to become a nurse and not only help patients by giving them comfort as they see fit, but also help the family they may have by giving them comfort as well because it is the second most important thing other than the patient themself. I have always been thankful for those nurses that took care of me when I was sick in the hospital with cancer. They were kind and passionate, always going beyond what they needed to do to help me be happy and comfortable, reassuring my parents they were doing what they could to help me when they could not themselves. I want to repay their kindness by joining the nursing community and helping those like they did with me. It is my dream to do as such.

Convince me that the life I’ve been longing For [behind closed doors] is not all it’s cracked Up to be. Convince me that the life where I get To peel off my face and turn my brain inside Out like a t-shirt and have the masses walk Through the folds up there, as if ambling through An art gallery, is not worth it. Convince me That the attempt to make a living off these Words [poetry], and what will eventually be These moving pictures [film], is a dangerous Pursuit, that the world is cruel, that they will Commodify me, that my art will no longer be Mine and it will hurt. Convince me that the Quaint life by the lake in the faraway place With the dog and the sun and the Lavender and the cottage is enough. Convince me that all I want to do is crack open Pomegranates under the tree in your backyard And count the seeds and taste the stinging burst Of sweetness in each one. Convince me that I actually Believe it when I write about how love is all I need. Convince me that it’s okay if my name is buried With me in my grave. Please. Please. Please. Convince me Harder. Tattoo it all on me. Make it my religion. Make it my bible. I’m drowning in my own indulgence And aching and wanted and longing. I like to believe I can fold my limbs and Package myself into a tiny box and live there Forever. That all I want is a delicate life, Reverent life, quiet life. That the art fills me Up up up to the brim, that I’m so full and I’m so happy And I don’t care if no one sees it. That I don’t even Think it’s good. But the truth is that sometimes I think it’s Really good and the truth is that some days I like what I Make so much I feel like god and the truth is that I want to Stomp all over this city leaving footprints everywhere I go and the truth is that I want to be loud and the truth is That I want to be known. Give me grandeur and give me a Seat at the table. Pick me up and throw me into the Blazing sun and let me become familiar With what it’s like to dance on the moon. But why can’t what’s in front of me just be enough...

If I were asked last year where I saw myself in 10 years, I probably would have said dead. Or more honestly, I probably wouldn’t have replied with any response. It was my senior year of high school, and I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. I was depressed with no hope for surviving because it felt like the world was falling apart around me. Now with both my ovaries removed and currently in remission, I see myself thriving in ten years. In ten years, I see myself making ground in a nursing career after working hard in a difficult nursing education because I can assure myself now that university as a nursing student is difficult. I see myself in the pediatric oncology unit, because I know how important nurses are to cancer patients, especially to pediatric patients. Pediatric oncology patients have the hospital as their second home, one they constantly come and stay in because of their sickness. Patients have to quickly and abruptly transition from a ‘normal’ healthy life at their home to suddenly feeling sick and scared in a new, scary and sterile hospital environment. After experiencing this first-hand as a child and as a teenager, I know how important nurses are for patients transitioning and having to learn to live and survive with cancer. The nurses that stayed by my side helped me as a child and last year because my parents could not stay with me 24/7; most parents can’t stay by their child’s side all the time because they also have to keep living their lives with work and sleep. Nurses become your secondary caregiver, helping and cheering you on through painful chemo treatments and all the blood work you get. Nurses become your lifeline when your parents and loved ones can’t be, and it’s so important to have a lifeline in this scenario. After all that my nurses have done for me, I hope to see myself helping those in the same shoes that I was in. I am currently a first-year nursing student at Seattle Pacific University. I am a part of my school’s NAPS club (nursing and pre-nursing students), active minds, and most importantly to me personally, our safe haven club for LGBTQ+ students. I have seen how impactful our safe haven club is for so many students and alumni, fighting for safe and equal rights against our board. I have fought with our club pursuing a lawsuit against our board to assure fair and equal rights with sexuality and impacts like these are what I hope to help with now and in my future as a nurse. I hope to be a safe and supportive nurse for those that need it, including minorities like LGBTQ+ and BIPOC persons. Along with these extracurriculars, I am maintaining a rigorous academic workload as a nursing student, maintain a good GPA and passing all classes of different and difficult course loads. I plan to continue this rigorous courseload and keep maintaining a good GPA while helping make an impact within my community.

If I were asked last year where I saw myself in 10 years, I probably would have said dead. Or more honestly, I probably wouldn’t have replied with any response. It was my senior year of high school, and I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. I was depressed with no hope for surviving because it felt like the world was falling apart around me. Now with both my ovaries removed and currently in remission, I see myself thriving in ten years. In ten years, I see myself making ground in a nursing career after working hard in a difficult nursing education because I can assure myself now that university as a nursing student is difficult. I see myself in the pediatric oncology unit, because I know how important nurses are to cancer patients, especially to pediatric patients. Pediatric oncology patients have the hospital as their second home, one they constantly come and stay in because of their sickness. Patients have to quickly and abruptly transition from a ‘normal’ healthy life at their home to suddenly feeling sick and scared in a new, scary and sterile hospital environment. After experiencing this first-hand as a child and as a teenager, I know how important nurses are for patients transitioning and having to learn to live and survive with cancer. The nurses that stayed by my side helped me as a child and last year because my parents could not stay with me 24/7; most parents can’t stay by their child’s side all the time because they also have to keep living their lives with work and sleep. Nurses become your secondary caregiver, helping and cheering you on through painful chemo treatments and all the blood work you get. Nurses become your lifeline when your parents and loved ones can’t be, and it’s so important to have a lifeline in this scenario. After all that my nurses have done for me, I hope to see myself helping those in the same shoes that I was in. I am currently a first-year nursing student at Seattle Pacific University. I am a part of my school’s NAPS club (nursing and pre-nursing students), active minds, and most importantly to me personally, our safe haven club for LGBTQ+ students. I have seen how impactful our safe haven club is for so many students and alumni, fighting for safe and equal rights against our board. I have fought with our club pursuing a lawsuit against our board to assure fair and equal rights with sexuality and impacts like these are what I hope to help with now and in my future as a nurse. I hope to be a safe and supportive nurse for those that need it, including minorities like LGBTQ+ and BIPOC persons. Along with these extracurriculars, I am maintaining a rigorous academic workload as a nursing student, maintain a good GPA and passing all classes of different and difficult course loads. I plan to continue this rigorous courseload and keep maintaining a good GPA while helping make an impact within my community.

If I were asked last year where I saw myself in 10 years, I probably would have said dead. Or more honestly, I probably wouldn’t have replied with any response. It was my senior year of high school, and I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. I was depressed with no hope for surviving because it felt like the world was falling apart around me. Now with both my ovaries removed and currently in remission, I see myself thriving in ten years. In ten years, I see myself making ground in a nursing career after working hard in a difficult nursing education because I can assure myself now that university as a nursing student is difficult. I see myself in the pediatric oncology unit, because I know how important nurses are to cancer patients, especially to pediatric patients. Pediatric oncology patients have the hospital as their second home, one they constantly come and stay in because of their sickness. Patients have to quickly and abruptly transition from a ‘normal’ healthy life at their home to suddenly feeling sick and scared in a new, scary and sterile hospital environment. After experiencing this first-hand as a child and as a teenager, I know how important nurses are for patients transitioning and having to learn to live and survive with cancer. The nurses that stayed by my side helped me as a child and last year because my parents could not stay with me 24/7; most parents can’t stay by their child’s side all the time because they also have to keep living their lives with work and sleep. Nurses become your secondary caregiver, helping and cheering you on through painful chemo treatments and all the blood work you get. Nurses become your lifeline when your parents and loved ones can’t be, and it’s so important to have a lifeline in this scenario. After all that my nurses have done for me, I hope to see myself helping those in the same shoes that I was in. I am currently a first-year nursing student at Seattle Pacific University. I am a part of my school’s NAPS club (nursing and pre-nursing students), active minds, and most importantly to me personally, our safe haven club for LGBTQ+ students. I have seen how impactful our safe haven club is for so many students and alumni, fighting for safe and equal rights against our board. I have fought with our club pursuing a lawsuit against our board to assure fair and equal rights with sexuality and impacts like these are what I hope to help with now and in my future as a nurse. I hope to be a safe and supportive nurse for those that need it, including minorities like LGBTQ+ and BIPOC persons. Along with these extracurriculars, I am maintaining a rigorous academic workload as a nursing student, maintain a good GPA and passing all classes of different and difficult course loads. I plan to continue this rigorous courseload and keep maintaining a good GPA while helping make an impact within my community.

There are many books I have read that have impacted my view of life and the world around me; Number the Stars by Lois Lowry, Among the Hidden by Margaret Peterson Haddix, Bless the Beasts and Children by Glendon Swarthout. I believe the novel that impacted me the most is Lord of the Flies by William Golding; the novel has made me think about myself, the people around me, and how the world and politics, both past and present. Lord of the flies is a story about a plane crash, the only survivors being adolescent boys. The boys create their own society and hierarchy, only it soon becomes chaotic and deadly. The book really impacted me because of the ending and the thought of adolescents being forced to grow up too fast because of circumstances that aren't in their control. After all the death, destruction, and loss of innocence, you truly see what happens when forcing children to grow up in a world of war and gross politics. But at the sight of being saved by adults, they revert back to being children, crying and not understanding everything that has happened to them. The novel itself was not the only thing that impacted me, but the inspiration behind the novel and the author explaining why he had no female adolescents in the story. Golding was quite the feminist when answering the question to why there were no females in his novel, but his explanation makes sense, because society then (and even now) boils down to men in power, and having females in the novel would make the outcome and plot of the novel change drastically. Having an all-male adolescent society was shown because we (the readers) are able to see that it is because of that, that war and chaos happen within our society at the time and as of now. Without females, we are able to see that without the constraints of society, the boys then refer to their baser instincts; they become more wild with their control and less moral. Even in the beginning, when they tried to be civil and safe in the beginning of the novel when they first crashed, they still ended up becoming wild and dangerous. Once society came back - once they were saved by adults, they reverted back to their child state, and came to realize just how much humanity they lost, including their innocence.

Mental health problems have always surrounded me; it's a raging problem within my family. With my mom's chronic depression and my dad's manic bipolar, emotions were always different and challenging to understand. Sometimes my mom wouldn't feel anything, like a numb zombie to the world around her. Sometimes my dad felt enough emotions for the entire family, getting quickly excited yet just as easily irritated at the same time. Sometimes I would live with my grandparents when they had to change their medication because it wasn't known how they would react to the new hormone changes created by their new pills. Seeing them take so many pills everyday created a unique desire to also take pills, so an evening "candy time" was imagined up; my parents would take their medicine while I would take my 'pills' made from sugar and off-brand smarties. I was quick to find out that children can develop PTSD. An awful man did an awful thing to me when I was six, and I was suddenly thrown into an environment of overprotective parents, doctor visits, and looks that have a depressing mixture of guilt and empathy. Memories came like a popup ad in my brain; faces that look remotely familiar turn into him with no logical sense or reason. Though I don't remember what I was before this event, I saw my mother silently grieve for the loss of her energetic, happy little girl. My dad's bipolar became worse. More nights down at the shed, drinking the night away in solitude. I remember when my mom broke a picture frame in our downstairs bathroom. While humorous to a nine year old, I've learned the reason to why at a little time. My mom came back from "hospital home" - as I would call it, apparently, her depression had been solved. Solved was really just pushed away feelings, a numb puppet to her body of strings. She punched the picture to feel something; it wasn't exactly a healthy solution or a good influence to me, but it was all she could think of doing. I guess it was ironic that the picture was of our family; there was glass broken on the floor and blood on the picture, smearing the color red on our family like a physical red flag. The first time I was at the hospital for my mental breakdown was the time I knew I wanted to become a nurse. The nurses were there for me, not just to make me better but to just let me know that there was someone there for me. At a time when I felt like I was alone, the nurses made sure to grab that thought by the throat and throw it out of my system. Reminders of food, coming in just to talk, or even just to sit with nothing but silence surrounding us. I want to be able to help people like those nurses who help me. They weren't doing it because it was their job, but they were doing it because it was their passion, and I want to be able to do such a thing because I know I have the passion for doing so. Working as a pediatric nurse in the future would be one of my dream positions because I know just how much of an impact nurses have on patients, especially children patients. Without the nurses I had around me and my family, I know things would not be the same and I would not know the lessons I know now because they helped me grow and learn.

Mental health problems have always surrounded me; it's a raging problem within my family. With my mom's chronic depression and my dad's manic bipolar, emotions were always different and challenging to understand. Sometimes my mom wouldn't feel anything, like a numb zombie to the world around her. Sometimes my dad felt enough emotions for the entire family, getting quickly excited yet just as easily irritated at the same time. Sometimes I would live with my grandparents when they had to change their medication because it wasn't known how they would react to the new hormone changes created by their new pills. Seeing them take so many pills everyday created a unique desire to also take pills, so an evening "candy time" was imagined up; my parents would take their medicine while I would take my 'pills' made from sugar and off-brand smarties. I was quick to find out that children can develop PTSD. An awful man did an awful thing to me when I was six, and I was suddenly thrown into an environment of overprotective parents, doctor visits, and looks that have a depressing mixture of guilt and empathy. Memories came like a popup ad in my brain; faces that look remotely familiar turn into him with no logical sense or reason. Though I don't remember what I was before this event, I saw my mother silently grieve for the loss of her energetic, happy little girl. My dad's bipolar became worse. More nights down at the shed, drinking the night away in solitude. I remember when my mom broke a picture frame in our downstairs bathroom. While humorous to a nine year old, I've learned the reason to why at a little time. My mom came back from "hospital home" - as I would call it, apparently, her depression had been solved. Solved was really just pushed away feelings, a numb puppet to her body of strings. She punched the picture to feel something; it wasn't exactly a healthy solution or a good influence to me, but it was all she could think of doing. I guess it was ironic that the picture was of our family; there was glass broken on the floor and blood on the picture, smearing the color red on our family like a physical red flag. The first time I was at the hospital for my mental breakdown was the time I knew I wanted to become a nurse. The nurses were there for me, not just to make me better but to just let me know that there was someone there for me. At a time when I felt like I was alone, the nurses made sure to grab that thought by the throat and throw it out of my system. Reminders of food, coming in just to talk, or even just to sit with nothing but silence surrounding us. I want to be able to help people like those nurses who help me. They weren't doing it because it was their job, but they were doing it because it was their passion, and I want to be able to do such a thing because I know I have the passion for doing so. Working as a pediatric nurse in the future would be one of my dream positions because I know just how much of an impact nurses have on patients, especially children patients. Without the nurses I had around me and my family, I know things would not be the same and I would not know the lessons I know now because they helped me grow and learn. After all my experiences, I knew I wanted to help people in the ways that the nurses I always had around me would help; the feeling of helping those was and always will be a great feeling.

Mental health problems have always surrounded me; it's a raging problem within my family. With my mom's chronic depression and my dad's manic bipolar, emotions were always different and challenging to understand. Sometimes my mom wouldn't feel anything, like a numb zombie to the world around her. Sometimes my dad felt enough emotions for the entire family, getting quickly excited yet just as easily irritated at the same time. Sometimes I would live with my grandparents when they had to change their medication because it wasn't known how they would react to the new hormone changes created by their new pills. Seeing them take so many pills everyday created a unique desire to also take pills, so an evening "candy time" was imagined up; my parents would take their medicine while I would take my 'pills' made from sugar and off-brand smarties. I was quick to find out that children can develop PTSD. An awful man did an awful thing to me when I was six, and I was suddenly thrown into an environment of overprotective parents, doctor visits, and looks that have a depressing mixture of guilt and empathy. Memories came like a popup ad in my brain; faces that look remotely familiar turn into him with no logical sense or reason. Though I don't remember what I was before this event, I saw my mother silently grieve for the loss of her energetic, happy little girl. My dad's bipolar became worse. More nights down at the shed, drinking the night away in solitude. I remember when my mom broke a picture frame in our downstairs bathroom. While humorous to a nine year old, I've learned the reason to why at a little time. My mom came back from "hospital home" - as I would call it, apparently, her depression had been solved. Solved was really just pushed away feelings, a numb puppet to her body of strings. She punched the picture to feel something; it wasn't exactly a healthy solution or a good influence to me, but it was all she could think of doing. I guess it was ironic that the picture was of our family; there was glass broken on the floor and blood on the picture, smearing the color red on our family like a physical red flag. The first time I was at the hospital for my mental breakdown was the time I knew I wanted to become a nurse. The nurses were there for me, not just to make me better but to just let me know that there was someone there for me. At a time when I felt like I was alone, the nurses made sure to grab that thought by the throat and throw it out of my system. Reminders of food, coming in just to talk, or even just to sit with nothing but silence surrounding us. I want to be able to help people like those nurses who help me. They weren't doing it because it was their job, but they were doing it because it was their passion, and I want to be able to do such a thing because I know I have the passion for doing so. Working as a pediatric nurse in the future would be one of my dream positions because I know just how much of an impact nurses have on patients, especially children patients. Without the nurses I had around me and my family, I know things would not be the same and I would not know the lessons I know now because they helped me grow and learn.

Mental health problems have always surrounded me; it's a raging problem within my family. With my mom's chronic depression and my dad's manic bipolar, emotions were always different and challenging to understand. Sometimes my mom wouldn't feel anything, like a numb zombie to the world around her. Sometimes my dad felt enough emotions for the entire family, getting quickly excited yet just as easily irritated at the same time. Sometimes I would live with my grandparents when they had to change their medication because it wasn't known how they would react to the new hormone changes created by their new pills. Seeing them take so many pills everyday created a unique desire to also take pills, so an evening "candy time" was imagined up; my parents would take their medicine while I would take my 'pills' made from sugar and off-brand smarties. I was quick to find out that children can develop PTSD. An awful man did an awful thing to me when I was six, and I suddenly thrown into an environment of overprotective parents, doctor visits, and looks that have a depressing mixture of guilt and empathy. Memories came like a popup ad in my brain; faces that look remotely familiar turn into him with no logical sense or reason. Though I don't remember what I was before this event, I saw my mother silently grieve for the loss of her energetic, happy will life little girl. My dad's bipolar became worse. More nights down at the shed, drinking the night away in solitude. I remember when my mom broke a picture frame in our downstairs bathroom. While humorous to a nine year old, I've learned the reason to why at a little time. My mom came back from "hospital home" - as I would call it, apparently her depression had been solved. Solved was really just pushed away feelings, a numb puppet to her body of strings. She punched the picture to feel something; it wasn't exactly a healthy solution or a good influence to me, but it was all she could think to do. I guess it was ironic that the picture was of our family; there was glass broken on the floor and blood on the picture, smearing the color red on our family like a physical red flag. The first time I was at the hospital for my mental breakdown was the time I knew I wanted to become a nurse. The nurses were there for me, not to just make me better but to just let me know that there was someone there for me. At a time where I felt like I was alone, the nurses made sure to grab that thought by the throat and throw it out of my system. Reminders of food, coming in just to talk, or even just to sit with nothing but silence surrounding us. I want to be able to help people like those nurses help me. They weren't doing it because it was their job, but they were doing it because it was their passion, and I want to be able to do such a thing because I know I have the passion to do so. Working as a nurse in my future would be my way of giving back for all the nurses that have helped me with my past and my current PTSD and trauma. PTSD forced me to grow up quickly and view the world in a pessimistic way; I hope to educate others about PTSD as a nurse and help those with PTSD to survive the world like I did.

Mental health problems have always surrounded me; it's a raging problem within my family. With my mom's chronic depression and my dad's manic bipolar, emotions were always different and challenging to understand. Sometimes my mom wouldn't feel anything, like a numb zombie to the world around her. Sometimes my dad felt enough emotions for the entire family, getting quickly excited yet just as easily irritated at the same time. Sometimes I would live with my grandparents when they had to change their medication because it wasn't known how they would react to the new hormone changes created by their new pills. Seeing them take so many pills everyday created a unique desire to also take pills, so an evening "candy time" was imagined up; my parents would take their medicine while I would take my 'pills' made from sugar and off-brand smarties. I was quick to find out that children can develop PTSD. An awful man did an awful thing to me when I was six, and I suddenly thrown into an environment of overprotective parents, doctor visits, and looks that have a depressing mixture of guilt and empathy. Memories came like a popup ad in my brain; faces that look remotely familiar turn into him with no logical sense or reason. Though I don't remember what I was before this event, I saw my mother silently grieve for the loss of her energetic, happy will life little girl. My dad's bipolar became worse. More nights down at the shed, drinking the night away in solitude. I remember when my mom broke a picture frame in our downstairs bathroom. While humorous to a nine year old, I've learned the reason to why at a little time. My mom came back from "hospital home" - as I would call it, apparently her depression had been solved. Solved was really just pushed away feelings, a numb puppet to her body of strings. She punched the picture to feel something; it wasn't exactly a healthy solution or a good influence to me, but it was all she could think to do. I guess it was ironic that the picture was of our family; there was glass broken on the floor and blood on the picture, smearing the color red on our family like a physical red flag. The first time I was at the hospital for my mental breakdown was the time I knew I wanted to become a nurse. The nurses were there for me, not to just make me better but to just let me know that there was someone there for me. At a time where I felt like I was alone, the nurses made sure to grab that thought by the throat and throw it out of my system. Reminders of food, coming in just to talk, or even just to sit with nothing but silence surrounding us. I want to be able to help people like those nurses help me. They weren't doing it because it was their job, but they were doing it because it was their passion, and I want to be able to do such a thing because I know I have the passion to do so. Working as a pediatric nurse in my future would be one of my dream positions because I know just how much of an impact nurses have on patients, espically their children patients. Without the nurses I had around me and my family, I know things would not be the same and I would not know the lessons I know now because they helped me grow and learn.

Mental health problems have always surrounded me; it's a raging problem within my family. With my mom's chronic depression and my dad's manic bipolar, emotions were always different and challenging to understand. Sometimes my mom wouldn't feel anything, like a numb zombie to the world around her. Sometimes my dad felt enough emotions for the entire family, getting quickly excited yet just as easily irritated at the same time. Sometimes I would live with my grandparents when they had to change their medication because it wasn't known how they would react to the new hormone changes created by their new pills. Seeing them take so many pills everyday created a unique desire to also take pills, so an evening "candy time" was imagined up; my parents would take their medicine while I would take my 'pills' made from sugar and off-brand smarties. I was quick to find out that children can develop PTSD. An awful man did an awful thing to me when I was six, and I suddenly thrown into an environment of overprotective parents, doctor visits, and looks that have a depressing mixture of guilt and empathy. Memories came like a popup ad in my brain; faces that look remotely familiar turn into him with no logical sense or reason. Though I don't remember what I was before this event, I saw my mother silently grieve for the loss of her energetic, happy will life little girl. My dad's bipolar became worse. More nights down at the shed, drinking the night away in solitude. I remember when my mom broke a picture frame in our downstairs bathroom. While humorous to a nine year old, I've learned the reason to why at a little time. My mom came back from "hospital home" - as I would call it, apparently her depression had been solved. Solved was really just pushed away feelings, a numb puppet to her body of strings. She punched the picture to feel something; it wasn't exactly a healthy solution or a good influence to me, but it was all she could think to do. I guess it was ironic that the picture was of our family; there was glass broken on the floor and blood on the picture, smearing the color red on our family like a physical red flag. The first time I was at the hospital for my mental breakdown was the time I knew I wanted to become a nurse. The nurses were there for me, not to just make me better but to just let me know that there was someone there for me. At a time where I felt like I was alone, the nurses made sure to grab that thought by the throat and throw it out of my system. Reminders of food, coming in just to talk, or even just to sit with nothing but silence surrounding us. I want to be able to help people like those nurses help me. They weren't doing it because it was their job, but they were doing it because it was their passion, and I want to be able to do such a thing because I know I have the passion to do so. Working as a pediatric nurse in my future would be one of my dream positions because I know just how much of an impact nurses have on patients, espically their children patients. Without the nurses I had around me and my family, I know things would not be the same and I would not know the lessons I know now because they helped me grow and learn.

Mental health problems have always surrounded me; it's a raging problem within my family. With my mom's chronic depression and my dad's manic bipolar, emotions were always different and challenging to understand. Sometimes my mom wouldn't feel anything, like a numb zombie to the world around her. Sometimes my dad felt enough emotions for the entire family, getting quickly excited yet just as easily irritated at the same time. Sometimes I would live with my grandparents when they had to change their medication because it wasn't known how they would react to the new hormone changes created by their new pills. Seeing them take so many pills everyday created a unique desire to also take pills, so an evening "candy time" was imagined up; my parents would take their medicine while I would take my 'pills' made from sugar and off-brand smarties. I was quick to find out that children can develop PTSD. An awful man did an awful thing to me when I was six, and I suddenly thrown into an environment of overprotective parents, doctor visits, and looks that have a depressing mixture of guilt and empathy. Memories came like a popup ad in my brain; faces that look remotely familiar turn into him with no logical sense or reason. Though I don't remember what I was before this event, I saw my mother silently grieve for the loss of her energetic, happy will life little girl. My dad's bipolar became worse. More nights down at the shed, drinking the night away in solitude. I remember when my mom broke a picture frame in our downstairs bathroom. While humorous to a nine year old, I've learned the reason to why at a little time. My mom came back from "hospital home" - as I would call it, apparently her depression had been solved. Solved was really just pushed away feelings, a numb puppet to her body of strings. She punched the picture to feel something; it wasn't exactly a healthy solution or a good influence to me, but it was all she could think to do. I guess it was ironic that the picture was of our family; there was glass broken on the floor and blood on the picture, smearing the color red on our family like a physical red flag. The first time I was at the hospital for my mental breakdown was the time I knew I wanted to become a nurse. The nurses were there for me, not to just make me better but to just let me know that there was someone there for me. At a time where I felt like I was alone, the nurses made sure to grab that thought by the throat and throw it out of my system. Reminders of food, coming in just to talk, or even just to sit with nothing but silence surrounding us. I want to be able to help people like those nurses help me. They weren't doing it because it was their job, but they were doing it because it was their passion, and I want to be able to do such a thing because I know I have the passion to do so. Working as a pediatric nurse in my future would be one of my dream positions because I know just how much of an impact nurses have on patients, espically their children patients. Without the nurses I had around me and my family, I know things would not be the same and I would not know the lessons I know now because they helped me grow and learn.

A song that inspires me most is "Francis Forever" by Mitski. While the song is a ballad about isolation and inadequacy, is it something I relate to and something that shows me that there is a better hope for me in the future. I can relate to the overall feeling of loneliness and of never being enough. Being in a part of a family where I am supposed to be the "smart one" and the one with a promising professional future; I feel like I am never doing enough to make my family proud with their expectations of me. While listening to the song reminds me of those feelings, it also reminds me that I can make my future better by not listening to others expectations of me and instead live up to what I want to be, not what others hope of me. Songs by Mitski are often sad and relatable in this sense, and listening to her songs always allow me to reflect on myself and remind myself that my future is up to me, not to others.

I’ll play the role of a captive priest in a confessional booth, Shackled to the far side of the curtain As you spew your shame. I’ll say the mandatory lines – It wasn’t your fault, you did nothing wrong, you are forgiven – With ease, mechanical ease, like the words Are clawing their way up from my gut. I’ll store your secrets, be your mouthpiece For empty absolution, just a vessel Who nods along to your every lie. I’ll make myself into a lost-and-found box, Gathering up your leftover heartaches, Collecting all the skeletons you can’t fit In your own closet. I’ll let you hook your anchor Onto the sunken remains of my ship So that my ruins can keep you moored down. So that my debris becomes your foothold. Step on my shoulders to hoist yourself higher. Gather up my embers to build yourself A brighter fire. Sometimes I think I was made to be a silo For your scraps.

My name is Anyanka Terese Ziegler, and I have wanted to pursue a career in helping people ever since I was little. It started when I would go with my grandfather to the hospital and keep him company while getting his chemotherapy. I wanted to help people the same way the nurses and doctors did with my grandpa. After living through that and seeing the effects of mental health with my family, I knew I wanted to become a nurse. While a doctor helps people, a nurse is a person who really creates a bond between their patients, and I want to have that with my career. In college, I hope to pursue a degree in nursing to achieve my goal of becoming an RN, preferably with a BSN, to become more desirable to oncology and pediatric departments. While working with children, adults, and even pets in my spare time and as a part-time career, I now know that I can create the bonds that nurses do with their patients. I know what to expect when pursuing an education in nursing after attending the nursing program at NSLC, which let me experience firsthand what I would expect when working as a nurse and how to become a better student and leader.

I practice self-care with meditation and self-appreciation. I have been doing self-appreciation with my meditation for a very long time now, and I do it every day with my coven. We use meditation as a type of grounding experience and many forms of self-appreciation to help boost ourselves and give us a fighting chance for a great day. It is important to do this because it allows us to start the day with a good attitude and healthy conscience. I find that when I do this, I get less irritated and less annoyed. I also find that it helps me pay attention better in a school setting, helping me learn better along with feeling more confident in my learning ability. It is very important for me to meditate before a big day or before a test to help ground and calm myself and allow myself to get a time of peace and serenity. I believe with meditation and self-appreciation, anyone can have a good start to the day and see others around them in a new light. I encourage those around me to always at least try and practice meditation and self-care.

I practice self-care with meditation and self-appreciation. I have been doing self-appreciation with my meditation for a very long time now, and I do it every day with my coven. We use meditation as a type of grounding experience and many forms of self-appreciation to help boost ourselves and give us a fighting chance for a great day. It is important to do this because it allows us to start the day with a good attitude and healthy conscience. I find that when I do this, I get less irritated and less annoyed. I also find that it helps me pay attention better in a school setting, helping me learn better along with feeling more confident in my learning ability. It is very important for me to meditate before a big day or before a test to help ground and calm myself and allow myself to get a time of peace and serenity. I believe with meditation and self-appreciation, you can live a long and healthy life.

I wish I could remember what normal emotions feel like. I've always been surrounded by mental health problems, it's a raging problem within my family. With my mom's chronic depression and my dad's manic bipolar, emotions were always different and difficult to understand. Sometimes my mom wouldn't feel anything, like a numb zombie to the world around her. Sometimes my dad felt enough emotions for the entire family, getting easily excited, yet just as easily irritated at the same time. Sometimes I would live with my grandparents when they had to change their medication because it wasn't known how they would react to the new hormone changes created by their new pills. Seeing them take so many pills everyday created a unique desire to also take pills, so an evening "candy time" was imagined up; my parents would take their medicine while I would take my 'pills' made from sugar and off-brand smarties. I was quick to find out that children can develop PTSD. An awful man did an awful thing to me when I was six, and I suddenly thrown into an environment of overprotective parents, doctor visits, and looks that have a depressing mixture of guilt and empathy. Memories came like a popup ad in my brain; faces that look remotely familiar turn into him with no logical sense or reason. Though I don't remember what I was before this event, I saw my mother silently grieve for the loss of her energetic, happy will life little girl. My dad's bipolar became worse. More nights down at the shed, drinking the night away in solitude. I remember when my mom broke a picture frame in our downstairs bathroom. While humorous to a nine year old, I've learned the reason to why at a little time. My mom came back from "hospital home" - as I would call it, apparently her depression had been solved. Solved was really just pushed away feelings, a numb puppet to her body of strings. She punched the picture to feel something; it wasn't exactly a healthy solution or a good influence to me, but it was all she could think to do. I guess it was ironic that the picture was of our family; there was glass broken on the floor and blood on the picture, smearing the color red on our family like a physical red flag. The first time I was at the hospital for my mental breakdown was the time I knew I wanted to become a nurse. The nurses were there for me, not to just make me better but to just let me know that there was someone there for me. At a time where I felt like I was alone, the nurses made sure to grab that thought by the throat and throw it out of my system. Reminders of food, coming in just to talk, or even just to sit with nothing but silence surrounding us. I want to be able to help people like those nurses help me. They weren't doing it because it was their job, but they were doing it because it was their passion, and I want to be able to do such a thing because I know I have the passion to do so.

I wish I could remember what normal emotions feel like. I've always been surrounded by mental health problems, it's a raging problem within my family. With my mom's chronic depression and my dad's manic bipolar, emotions were always different and difficult to understand. Sometimes my mom wouldn't feel anything, like a numb zombie to the world around her. Sometimes my dad felt enough emotions for the entire family, getting easily excited, yet just as easily irritated at the same time. Sometimes I would live with my grandparents when they had to change their medication because it wasn't known how they would react to the new hormone changes created by their new pills. Seeing them take so many pills everyday created a unique desire to also take pills, so an evening "candy time" was imagined up; my parents would take their medicine while I would take my 'pills' made from sugar and off-brand smarties. I was quick to find out that children can develop PTSD. An awful man did an awful thing to me when I was six, and I suddenly thrown into an environment of overprotective parents, doctor visits, and looks that have a depressing mixture of guilt and empathy. Memories came like a popup ad in my brain; faces that look remotely familiar turn into him with no logical sense or reason. Though I don't remember what I was before this event, I saw my mother silently grieve for the loss of her energetic, happy will life little girl. My dad's bipolar became worse. More nights down at the shed, drinking the night away in solitude. I remember when my mom broke a picture frame in our downstairs bathroom. While humorous to a nine year old, I've learned the reason to why at a little time. My mom came back from "hospital home" - as I would call it, apparently her depression had been solved. Solved was really just pushed away feelings, a numb puppet to her body of strings. She punched the picture to feel something; it wasn't exactly a healthy solution or a good influence to me, but it was all she could think to do. I guess it was ironic that the picture was of our family; there was glass broken on the floor and blood on the picture, smearing the color red on our family like a physical red flag. The first time I was at the hospital for my mental breakdown was the time I knew I wanted to become a nurse. The nurses were there for me, not to just make me better but to just let me know that there was someone there for me. At a time where I felt like I was alone, the nurses made sure to grab that thought by the throat and throw it out of my system. Reminders of food, coming in just to talk, or even just to sit with nothing but silence surrounding us. I want to be able to help people like those nurses help me. They weren't doing it because it was their job, but they were doing it because it was their passion, and I want to be able to do such a thing because I know I have the passion to do so.

I wish I could remember what normal emotions feel like. I've always been surrounded by mental health problems, it's a raging problem within my family. With my mom's chronic depression and my dad's manic bipolar, emotions were always different and difficult to understand. Sometimes my mom wouldn't feel anything, like a numb zombie to the world around her. Sometimes my dad felt enough emotions for the entire family, getting easily excited, yet just as easily irritated at the same time. Sometimes I would live with my grandparents when they had to change their medication because it wasn't known how they would react to the new hormone changes created by their new pills. Seeing them take so many pills everyday created a unique desire to also take pills, so an evening "candy time" was imagined up; my parents would take their medicine while I would take my 'pills' made from sugar and off-brand smarties. I was quick to find out that children can develop PTSD. An awful man did an awful thing to me when I was six, and I suddenly thrown into an environment of overprotective parents, doctor visits, and looks that have a depressing mixture of guilt and empathy. Memories came like a popup ad in my brain; faces that look remotely familiar turn into him with no logical sense or reason. Though I don't remember what I was before this event, I saw my mother silently grieve for the loss of her energetic, happy will life little girl. My dad's bipolar became worse. More nights down at the shed, drinking the night away in solitude. I remember when my mom broke a picture frame in our downstairs bathroom. While humorous to a nine year old, I've learned the reason to why at a little time. My mom came back from "hospital home" - as I would call it, apparently her depression had been solved. Solved was really just pushed away feelings, a numb puppet to her body of strings. She punched the picture to feel something; it wasn't exactly a healthy solution or a good influence to me, but it was all she could think to do. I guess it was ironic that the picture was of our family; there was glass broken on the floor and blood on the picture, smearing the color red on our family like a physical red flag. The first time I was at the hospital for my mental breakdown was the time I knew I wanted to become a nurse. The nurses were there for me, not to just make me better but to just let me know that there was someone there for me. At a time where I felt like I was alone, the nurses made sure to grab that thought by the throat and throw it out of my system. Reminders of food, coming in just to talk, or even just to sit with nothing but silence surrounding us. I want to be able to help people like those nurses help me. They weren't doing it because it was their job, but they were doing it because it was their passion, and I want to be able to do such a thing because I know I have the passion to do so.

I’m reminded of how short I am with the other team running at me, all at least a year older than me. I see the end in reach; I just have to get to the white line. That is until I hear a loud pop and someone running into me. I hear a mom start yelling, "she made it unfair." I looked around for who she was talking about; I didn't understand why she was mad. “This is a boys team, of course they’re going to be nice to her and let her win; that’s unfair, she shouldn’t play.” We’re rushed back to our coach, most of us sporting a look of confusion. My coach pulls me aside. He kneels down to me and looks me in the eye; "do you understand why she said that?" I didn't. “Some people don’t understand that things change, and that change can be a good thing. You have changed the look of flag football, and that isn’t a bad thing.” That was not the last time I heard people tell me I shouldn’t play a boy’s sport, but I never let it affect me because I knew that change can be a weird and scary thing for people and that not everyone will accept change, but it shouldn’t stop me from doing what I want as long as I am happy doing it. I use this piece of knowledge for many aspects of my life now, helping me remind myself that change isn’t always a bad thing; change can bring good light upon everything. With the change of being the first girl on the flag football team, I created a safe space for all the little sisters to join their brothers in sport and show others that change can be powerful and good.

The first photo is of my big mutt named Abby. She is so wild and happy, it's nearly impossible to get a picture of her because they always come out so blurry. This photo shows just how much love she has to give to others. The next three photos are of my little mutt, Zelda. Like Abby, Zelda was rescued at an old age. Zelda is less energetic but just as goofy and lovable. In the last photo, you can see that Zelda loves to cuddle.

I practice self-care with meditation and self-appreciation. I have been doing self-appreciation with my meditation for a very long time now, and I do it every day with my coven. We use meditation as a type of grounding experience and many forms of self-appreciation to help boost ourselves and give us a fighting chance for a great day. It is important to do this because it allows us to start the day with a good attitude and healthy conscience. I find that when I do this, I get less irritated and less annoyed. I also find that it helps me pay attention better in a school setting, helping me learn better along with feeling more confident in my learning ability. It is very important for me to meditate before a big day or before a test to help ground and calm myself and allow myself to get a time of peace and serenity. I believe with meditation and self-appreciation, you can live a long and healthy life.

I wish I could remember what normal emotions feel like. I've always been surrounded by mental health problems, it's a raging problem within my family. With my mom's chronic depression and my dad's manic bipolar, emotions were always different and difficult to understand. Sometimes my mom wouldn't feel anything, like a numb zombie to the world around her. Sometimes my dad felt enough emotions for the entire family, getting easily excited, yet just as easily irritated at the same time. I was quick to find out that children can develop PTSD. An awful man did an awful thing to me when I was six, and I was suddenly thrown into an environment of overprotective parents, doctor visits, and looks that have a depressing mixture of guilt and empathy. Memories came like a popup ad in my brain; faces that look remotely familiar turn into him with no logical sense or reason. The first time I was at the hospital for my mental breakdown was the time I knew I wanted to become a nurse. The nurses were there for me, not to just make me better but to just let me know that there was someone there for me. I want to be able to help people like those nurses help me. They weren't doing it because it was their job, but they were doing it because it was their passion, and I want to be able to do such a thing because I know I have the passion to do so.

I hope to leave an impact of change in the world around me. I'll share my story of change from the past, where I first learned that change isn't a bad thing but instead something that can help create a better life around everyone. The ball is thrown at me hard. I manage to catch and start running. I’m reminded of how short I am with the others running at me, all two years older than me. I hear a loud pop and someone running into me; someone pulled my flag. We’ve gotten much closer now, a quick handoff or a short-throw would do the trick; the other team is less than impressed. I squat down one more time and hear my coach shout our play. I toss the ball back and run a fake, watching the ball get handed off to another player right into the end zone. I don’t have time to celebrate our touchdown before I hear a mom start yelling, "that's unfair, she made it unfair." I looked around for who she was talking about; I didn't understand why she was mad. “This is a boys team, of course they’re going to be nice to her and let her win; that’s unfair, she shouldn’t play.” Oh. She’s talking about me. We’re rushed back to our coach, most of us sporting a look of confusion. While a referee talks to the opposing mom, my coach pulls me aside. He kneels down to me and looks me in the eye; "do you understand why she said that?" I didn't. I thought everything was fine, so I shook my head. “Some people don’t understand that things change, and that change can be a good thing. You have changed the look of flag football, and that isn’t a bad thing.”

I wish I could remember what normal emotions feel like. I've always been surrounded by mental health problems, it's a raging problem within my family. With my mom's chronic depression and my dad's manic bipolar, emotions were always different and difficult to understand. Sometimes my mom wouldn't feel anything, like a numb zombie to the world around her. Sometimes my dad felt enough emotions for the entire family, getting easily excited, yet just as easily irritated at the same time. Sometimes I would live with my grandparents when they had to change their medication because it wasn't known how they would react to the new hormone changes created by their new pills. Seeing them take so many pills everyday created a unique desire to also take pills, so an evening "candy time" was imagined up; my parents would take their medicine while I would take my 'pills' made from sugar and off-brand smarties. I was quick to find out that children can develop PTSD. An awful man did an awful thing to me when I was six, and I suddenly thrown into an environment of overprotective parents, doctor visits, and looks that have a depressing mixture of guilt and empathy. Memories came like a popup ad in my brain; faces that look remotely familiar turn into him with no logical sense or reason. Though I don't remember what I was before this event, I saw my mother silently grieve for the loss of her energetic, happy will life little girl. My dad's bipolar became worse. More nights down at the shed, drinking the night away in solitude. I remember when my mom broke a picture frame in our downstairs bathroom. While humorous to a nine year old, I've learned the reason to why at a little time. My mom came back from "hospital home" - as I would call it, apparently her depression had been solved. Solved was really just pushed away feelings, a numb puppet to her body of strings. She punched the picture to feel something; it wasn't exactly a healthy solution or a good influence to me, but it was all she could think to do. I guess it was ironic that the picture was of our family; there was glass broken on the floor and blood on the picture, smearing the color red on our family like a physical red flag. The first time I was at the hospital for my mental breakdown was the time I knew I wanted to become a nurse. The nurses were there for me, not to just make me better but to just let me know that there was someone there for me. At a time where I felt like I was alone, the nurses made sure to grab that thought by the throat and throw it out of my system. Reminders of food, coming in just to talk, or even just to sit with nothing but silence surrounding us. I want to be able to help people like those nurses help me. They weren't doing it because it was their job, but they were doing it because it was their passion, and I want to be able to do such a thing because I know I have the passion to do so.

This piece is about living with your head in the clouds. I've always found that phrase a good thing instead of a bad thing because when you've got your head in the clouds, you must be light and free; you're free to be as creative as you want with no judgment because you are always looking up instead of down. I hope to achieve this type of lifestyle in the future, but I am happy now with just being able to draw it.

I believe educational inequity is something everyone should stand for because everyone deserves an equal chance to receive a proper education. One of the main problems that cause people not to get the same education as their peers are financial issues. While public school is free, the supplies for every level of public school are not. Technology and the wifi needed to go with it is expensive. Basic school supplies may look cheap, but they always add up. With more recognition and support, it can be possible to help everyone get equal opportunities for education.

I practice self-care with meditation and self-appreciation. I have been doing self-appreciation with my meditation for a very long time now, and I do it every day with my coven. We use meditation as a type of grounding experience and many forms of self-appreciation to help boost ourselves and give us a fighting chance for a great day. It is important to do this because it allows us to start the day with a good attitude and healthy conscience. I find that when I do this, I get less irritated and less annoyed. I also find that it helps me pay attention better in a school setting, helping me learn better along with feeling more confident in my learning ability. It is very important for me to meditate before a big day or before a test to help ground and calm myself and allow myself to get a time of peace and serenity.

As childish as it might be, one piece of technology that inspires me to make the world a better place is a dog-like toy that my nephew calls "Chubs." Chubs is a robotic children's toy that comes in many different animal shapes; the toy allows children to play with it, learn how to care for another person, and simple little games that are educational. My favorite game to watch him play is a math game where the dog asks an addition or subtraction question, and a few answers come up on the robot screen. When my nephew chooses the right answer, the dog does a little dance and makes a happy sound. It makes me so happy to see my nephew happy about learning, and it inspires me to create a type of education practice that makes every child happy to be right, and ok with being wrong too.

I wish I could remember what normal emotions feel like. I've always been surrounded by mental health problems, it's a raging problem within my family. With my mom's chronic depression and my dad's manic bipolar, emotions were always different and difficult to understand. Sometimes my mom wouldn't feel anything, like a numb zombie to the world around her. Sometimes my dad felt enough emotions for the entire family, getting easily excited, yet just as easily irritated at the same time. Sometimes I would live with my grandparents when they had to change their medication because it wasn't known how they would react to the new hormone changes created by their new pills. Seeing them take so many pills everyday created a unique desire to also take pills, so an evening "candy time" was imagined up; my parents would take their medicine while I would take my 'pills' made from sugar and off-brand smarties. I was quick to find out that children can develop PTSD. An awful man did an awful thing to me when I was six, and I suddenly thrown into an environment of overprotective parents, doctor visits, and looks that have a depressing mixture of guilt and empathy. Memories came like a popup ad in my brain; faces that look remotely familiar turn into him with no logical sense or reason. Though I don't remember what I was before this event, I saw my mother silently grieve for the loss of her energetic, happy will life little girl. My dad's bipolar became worse. More nights down at the shed, drinking the night away in solitude. I remember when my mom broke a picture frame in our downstairs bathroom. While humorous to a nine year old, I've learned the reason to why at a little time. My mom came back from "hospital home" - as I would call it, apparently her depression had been solved. Solved was really just pushed away feelings, a numb puppet to her body of strings. She punched the picture to feel something; it wasn't exactly a healthy solution or a good influence to me, but it was all she could think to do. I guess it was ironic that the picture was of our family; there was glass broken on the floor and blood on the picture, smearing the color red on our family like a physical red flag. The first time I was at the hospital for my mental breakdown was the time I knew I wanted to become a nurse. The nurses were there for me, not to just make me better but to just let me know that there was someone there for me. At a time where I felt like I was alone, the nurses made sure to grab that thought by the throat and throw it out of my system. Reminders of food, coming in just to talk, or even just to sit with nothing but silence surrounding us. I want to be able to help people like those nurses help me. They weren't doing it because it was their job, but they were doing it because it was their passion, and I want to be able to do such a thing because I know I have the passion to do so.

Because this application never detailed if my favorite artist or scientist had to be real, I will always say that Amy Farrah Fowler is my favorite scientist. I admire her love for her line of work in neuroscience (something the actress herself has a doctorate in) and her passion for exploring the unknown.

I keep a growth mindset with my faith and religion. My family has been Wiccan for generations, and one important value of the Wiccan religion and spirituality is to keep your mind moving and growing; to make sure your mind and opinions stay open and freely move. I do this with daily meditation and keeping a book of shadows to explore every nook and cranny within my own mind, and accept everything I find, and allow for change when it is needed.

The most helpful piece of financial advice I have ever received is that you are never too young to learn how to save money. I started learning the importance of saving money when I turned five. On my fifth birthday, my parents gave me 100 dollars. They told me I could use it right away to buy something, or I could put it in the bank; they explained that if I were to put the money in a bank account, I would have to wait to use it but it would turn into more money that I could use later. Maybe my parents could have explained it a little better because I totally went for the "buy the toys now" option, but this approach my parents tried worked the next year on my sixth birthday. While not exactly with good spirit, I understood that if I were to put money in a bank account and save the money, I would have more money later to use, I just had to be patient enough to wait. Now instead of big gifts for my birthday and Christmas, my parents give me the option to either take 50-100 dollars to use or to put that money in my bank account and save for later use. I now have a good amount of savings to help pay a little bit for college, and it feels good to know that it was due to knowing the benefits of saving money from such a young age.

I hated being a girl when I was younger. It wasn't because I hated being a girl in itself, but I hated my body in comparison to a typical girl's body. My shoulders were wide like my brothers, my legs were bigger; I would always be compared to a boy instead of a girl in my sports and around the community. I hated not acting or looking like the other girls in my class. After time and growing self-confidence, I learned to love my body and what my body can do. I've learned that with my body, I am strong and can excel in many things. I have been able to show other girls that they can enjoy their bodies and do anything and everything they want, whether it be a swimmer, in a theater production, or a part of a boys and girls club flag football team like me.

Society can most effectively empower women by starting with the youngest in our generation in a subtle way. Starting with our youngest children will basically help much lower gender norms that society actually has set for us generations back, whether they knew it or not. When you look at children's books and children's games, what particularly do you see? Without any second thought, you see a female hairdresser, a male car repairer, and other gender norms that have been given to us in subtle ways. When children see this and grow up with this, they generally think these gender norms specifically are just normal. If children growing up saw both women and men in the same fields, children would really have the mindset to specifically break these gender norms society definitely has in its status quo, which for the most part is quite significant. By society doing this, it can empower women to pursue anything they want to without the worry of getting looked down upon or not taken seriously in a job position dominated by men in a pretty major way. Another thing society can really do to empower women effectively is to cut down and really eliminate the harsh beauty standards generally. While society actually is slowly doing this already, it mostly is still quite a really big issue. Social media and modeling agencies are basically still shoving the stereotypical "perfect woman" down consumers' throats, hurting the self-esteem of many young girls and women. When women and young girls see these unfair and unnatural beauty standards, mental health can be affected harshly. It can add to depression or be the main cause of anorexia, or just general bad thoughts of oneself. If society wants to empower women, it will have to change its appearance as well as changing the way it promotes unhealthy beauty standards. If society doesn't make any difference to itself, it will become a lot harder for society to be able to empower women, for it would always contradict itself effectively. It may say that women of all shapes are beautiful, only for the next day to show only thin and super beautiful (and most likely photoshopped) women in everything they show. Society may say that mental health is important and it is ok to talk about it, only for it to turn around and stigmatize mental health issues. All in all, if society wants to empower all women effectively, society will have to make some changes, starting with the young and making sure it reaches everyone else.