The world of nursing- a profession where I would have the power to save, influence, and change lives. I would be there to provide comfort in the darkest moments, and make a difference to those in my care. Becoming a nurse is a call on my life, driven by an intense desire to help others and form a positive impact on their lives. Nurses are the backbone of the healthcare system, often times, the only ones who listen to the needs of their patients, treating them above and beyond with the best care. Nurses provide a compassionate ear for their patients most vulnerable moments. I want become a nurse so I can build meaningful connections with patients and families, as well as to continue to grow my skills. Nursing is the one field that offers growth in the profession throughout the years. I want to grow just as my field is growing. Pediatric psychiatric nurses do not get the applause they deserve. They work with children and adolescents who are unable to communicate their own mental challenges. Adults can advocate for themselves, whether or not they want to take a certain medicine or if they want to explore different medical options for their own mental health and wellbeing. I want to be that advocate for the youth, for those who cannot use their own voice. Mental health is important to me because I went through my own struggles. I did not have that voice to advocate for me when it got hard, and not having that hurt. It made me feel alone, unheard, and like I did not matter. However, through my time of struggle I clung to my therapist and my nana. My nana is my biggest influence for going into the field of nursing completely, but my therapist introduced me to pediatric psychiatric nursing. My nana has been a nurse for over 40 years, recently retiring. Seeing how she cared for her patients, nurturing them until they were well physically and even emotionally sparked something in me. I started yearning to be that person, starting with kids. Kids really need people to build them up so they can believe in what they can do. I want to be that person. I want to nurture children and adolescents who struggle with mental health because I did not have someone for me. I refuse to let another child feel alone, when they can have someone like me, to be there when they cannot find the voice for themselves.

Mental health acts as the unseen force behind our daily decisions and interactions. My mental health struggle began September 2022, and it took me by surprise. It was my senior year of high school, and I just chalked it up to senioritis. My school performance never lacked; however, my social life took a turn for the worse. I played sports, but was out with injury. The only thing on my mind was making it through the day. I pushed away everyone who cared for me. My physical health was declining because I did not eat. I was in pain, mentally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. As my senior year went on, my suffering in silence soon started crying for help. I was scared there wasn’t anyone who understand what I was going through. I turned to marijuana for a source of comfort, and it helped for a while, but ultimately, I was postponing the inevitable. My relationship with God was slowly deteriorating. I became shell of myself, unrecognizable even. I did not know what was wrong with me. All I knew was that I was drowning, unable to pull myself up. Early December, I tried to take my life. The attempt was unsuccessful, but it scared me because I felt that it was the only way to rid myself of the pain that I was going through internally. Mentally, it made sense. I did not think about those I would be leaving behind, nor did I think about the life I would be missing out on if the attempt was successful. My thoughts were drowning me, and it seemed like the best option. For awhile after my attempt, I lashed out on everyone. One day, my father and I got into an argument that made me tell him I was hurting. The hurt I felt, I put on others. I told him about my attempt. He told my mom, and I was put into therapy. Therapy honestly saved my life. I figured out what was going on with me. My therapist diagnosed me with depression, anxiety, a personality disorder and an eating disorder. My first session, I did not open up. She just let me talk about whatever came to mind, whether that be school or boys. It felt good to talk about anything, especially after I alienated most of my relationships. After the second, I began explaining what was going on inside me. She helped me through it, and although I still struggle with my anxiety and bouts of depression, she continues to help me and be there for me. My therapist helped me fix my relationships, recenter my relationship with God, and get motivated about school again. I was drowning, and she saved me, piece by piece. I never realized how much pain I was holding onto until I let it go. There are times where my depression wins again, but I remember that depression comes in seasons. It does not last forever. My therapist showed me ways to keep a handle of the overwhelming thoughts that my anxiety pushed me through and the emotions my depression caused. I began eating more, going out more, sharing more. I talk about my struggle because mental health waits on no one. It attacks when it is least expected and it latches on. It is apart of me, but I did not allow my mental health to become me.

Mental health acts as the unseen force behind our daily decisions and interactions. My mental health struggle began September 2022, and it took me by surprise. It was my senior year of high school, and I just chalked it up to senioritis. My school performance never lacked; however, my social life took a turn for the worse. I played sports but was out with injury. The only thing on my mind was making it through the day. I pushed away everyone who cared for me. My physical health was declining because I did not eat. I was in pain, mentally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. As my senior year went on, my suffering in silence soon started crying for help. I was scared there wasn’t anyone who understand what I was going through. I turned to marijuana for a source of comfort, and it helped for a while, but ultimately, I was postponing the inevitable. My relationship with God was slowly deteriorating. I became shell of myself, unrecognizable even. I did not know what was wrong with me. All I knew was that I was drowning, unable to pull myself up. Early December, I tried to take my life. The attempt was unsuccessful, but it scared me because I felt that it was the only way to rid myself of the pain that I was going through internally. Mentally, it made sense. I did not think about those I would be leaving behind, nor did I think about the life I would be missing out on if the attempt was successful. My thoughts were drowning me, and it seemed like the best option. For a while after my attempt, I lashed out on everyone. One day, my father and I got into an argument that made me tell him I was hurting. The hurt I felt, I put on others. I told him about my attempt. He told my mom, and I was put into therapy. Therapy honestly saved my life. I figured out what was going on with me. My therapist diagnosed me with depression, anxiety, a personality disorder and an eating disorder. My first session, I did not open up. She just let me talk about whatever came to mind, whether that be school or boys. It felt good to talk about anything, especially after I alienated most of my relationships. After the second, I began explaining what was going on inside me. She helped me through it, and although I still struggle with my anxiety and bouts of depression, she continues to help me and be there for me. My therapist helped me fix my relationships, recenter my relationship with God, and get motivated about school again. I was drowning, and she saved me, piece by piece. I never realized how much pain I was holding onto until I let it go. There are times where my depression wins again, but I remember that depression comes in seasons. It does not last forever. My therapist showed me ways to keep a handle of the overwhelming thoughts that my anxiety pushed me through and the emotions my depression caused. I began eating more, going out more, sharing more. I talk about my struggle because mental health waits on no one. It attacks when it is least expected, and it latches on. It is a part of me, but I did not allow my mental health to become me.

Mental health acts as the unseen force behind our daily decisions and interactions. My mental health struggle began September 2022, and it took me by surprise. It was my senior year of high school, and I just chalked it up to senioritis. My school performance never lacked; however, my social life took a turn for the worse. I played sports but was out with injury. The only thing on my mind was making it through the day. I pushed away everyone who cared for me. My physical health was declining because I did not eat. I was in pain, mentally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. As my senior year went on, my suffering in silence soon started crying for help. I was scared there wasn’t anyone who understand what I was going through. I turned to marijuana for a source of comfort, and it helped for a while, but ultimately, I was postponing the inevitable. My relationship with God was slowly deteriorating. I became shell of myself, unrecognizable even. I did not know what was wrong with me. All I knew was that I was drowning, unable to pull myself up. Early December, I tried to take my life. The attempt was unsuccessful, but it scared me because I felt that it was the only way to rid myself of the pain that I was going through internally. Mentally, it made sense. I did not think about those I would be leaving behind, nor did I think about the life I would be missing out on if the attempt was successful. My thoughts were drowning me, and it seemed like the best option. For a while after my attempt, I lashed out on everyone. One day, my father and I got into an argument that made me tell him I was hurting. The hurt I felt, I put on others. I told him about my attempt. He told my mom, and I was put into therapy. Therapy honestly saved my life. In a world that is divided by class, race, and social life, being there for others is support that is unmatched. My support system was my therapist, and my parents. I strive to be someone else's support system. As the days go on, it seems like society is based on a game where it is every man or woman for themselves, and they will do what it takes to get ahead. Currently, I show my support in my community by service as well as being a listening ear. Everyone needs a person they can go to when they feel they are drowning and cannot swim up. I am that person. By allowing people to free their thoughts from torment keeps more people at ease in this game called life. Also, by being a service to my community (helping at food banks and church), I can point more people to resources that can help their current situations. My community raised me to be the person that I am today. Whether I am babysitting for a neighbor or helping my church plan events to reach the youth, my community is my helping hand. They believed in me, so now I help wherever I am called to be.

Mental health acts as the unseen force behind our daily decisions and interactions. My mental health struggle began September 2022, and it took me by surprise. It was my senior year of high school, and I just chalked it up to senioritis. My school performance never lacked; however, my social life took a turn for the worse. I played sports, but was out with injury. The only thing on my mind was making it through the day. I pushed away everyone who cared for me. My physical health was declining because I did not eat. I was in pain, mentally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. As my senior year went on, my suffering in silence soon started crying for help. I was scared there wasn’t anyone who understand what I was going through. I turned to marijuana for a source of comfort, and it helped for a while, but ultimately, I was postponing the inevitable. My relationship with God was slowly deteriorating. I became shell of myself, unrecognizable even. I did not know what was wrong with me. All I knew was that I was drowning, unable to pull myself up. Early December, I tried to take my life. The attempt was unsuccessful, but it scared me because I felt that it was the only way to rid myself of the pain that I was going through internally. Mentally, it made sense. I did not think about those I would be leaving behind, nor did I think about the life I would be missing out on if the attempt was successful. My thoughts were drowning me, and it seemed like the best option. For a while after my attempt, I lashed out on everyone. One day, my father and I got into an argument that made me tell him I was hurting. The hurt I felt, I put on others. I told him about my attempt. He told my mom, and I was put into therapy. Therapy honestly saved my life. I figured out what was going on with me. My therapist diagnosed me with depression, anxiety, a personality disorder and an eating disorder. My first session, I did not open up. She just let me talk about whatever came to mind, whether that be school or boys. It felt good to talk about anything, especially after I alienated most of my relationships. After the second, I began explaining what was going on inside me. She helped me through it, and although I still struggle with my anxiety and bouts of depression, she continues to help me and be there for me. My therapist helped me fix my relationships, recenter my relationship with God, and get motivated about school again. I was drowning, and she saved me, piece by piece. I never realized how much pain I was holding onto until I let it go. There are times where my depression wins again, but I remember that depression comes in seasons. It does not last forever. My therapist showed me ways to keep a handle of the overwhelming thoughts that my anxiety pushed me through and the emotions my depression caused. I began eating more, going out more, sharing more. I talk about my struggle because mental health waits on no one. It attacks when it is least expected, and it latches on. It is a part of me, but I did not allow my mental health to become me.

In a world that is divided by class, race, and social life, being there for others is support that is unmatched. As the days go on, it seems like society is based on a game where it is every man or woman for themselves, and they will do what it takes to get ahead. Currently, I show my support in my community by service as well as being a listening ear. Everyone needs a person they can go to when they feel they are drowning and cannot swim up. I am that person. By allowing people to free their thoughts from torment keeps more people at ease in this game called life. Also, by being a service to my community (helping at food banks and church), I can point more people to resources that can help their current situations. My career path is nursing, which is designed to be a listening ear for patients who need their needs heard. As a nurse, I am a built-in support system for patients and families. I want to be a pediatric psychiatric nurse. Kids really need people to build them up so they can believe in what they can do. I want to be that person. I want to nurture and support children and adolescents who struggle with mental health because I did not have someone for me. I refuse to let another child feel alone, when they can have someone like me, to be there when they cannot find the voice for themselves.

The world of nursing- a profession where I would have the power to save, influence, and change lives. I would be there to provide comfort in the darkest moments, and make a difference to those in my care. Becoming a nurse is a call on my life, driven by an intense desire to help others and form a positive impact on their lives. Nurses are the backbone of the healthcare system, often times, the only ones who listen to the needs of their patients, treating them above and beyond with the best care. Nurses provide a compassionate ear for their patients most vulnerable moments. I want become a nurse so I can build meaningful connections with patients and families, as well as to continue to grow my skills. Nursing is the one field that offers growth in the profession throughout the years. I want to grow just as my field is growing. Pediatric psychiatric nurses do not get the applause they deserve. They work with children and adolescents who are unable to communicate their own mental challenges. Adults can advocate for themselves, whether or not they want to take a certain medicine or if they want to explore different medical options for their own mental health and wellbeing. I want to be that advocate for the youth, for those who cannot use their own voice. Mental health is important to me because I went through my own struggles. I did not have that voice to advocate for me when it got hard, and not having that hurt. It made me feel alone, unheard, and like I did not matter. However, through my time of struggle I clung to my therapist and my nana. My nana is my biggest influence for going into the field of nursing completely, but my therapist introduced me to pediatric psychiatric nursing. My nana has been a nurse for over 40 years, recently retiring. Seeing how she cared for her patients, nurturing them until they were well physically and even emotionally sparked something in me. I started yearning to be that person, starting with kids. Kids really need people to build them up so they can believe in what they can do. I want to be that person. I want to nurture children and adolescents who struggle with mental health because I did not have someone for me. I refuse to let another child feel alone, when they can have someone like me, to be there when they cannot find the voice for themselves.

In a world where the African American community is viewed as “monsters” or “menaces,” their mental health challenges are viewed as insignificant, forcing the African American community to struggle internally. The fight to de-stigmatize mental health within the African American community is not just a journey of healing, but a powerful movement towards embracing the ability to be vulnerable, and also realize that strength and unity are healthy tools to revive our community. Inside of the African American community, mental illness and mental health is seen as a burden. Because of this, a lot of African Americans, men especially, are reluctant to seek help. African American men are portrayed as strong, and often times, seeking for help may seem weak. Individual experiences may not be the same, however, as a group, African Americans are less likely to seek help because of the idea that they have to be stronger in order to be seen as something more. As a person who has struggled with her own mental health challenges, I do believe that it is important to take initiative in the African American community because I do not want my community to struggle alone. My mental health struggle began September 2022, and it took me by surprise. It was my senior year of high school, and I just chalked it up to senioritis. As my senior year went on however, my suffering in silence soon started crying for help. I was scared there wasn’t anyone who understand what I was going through. My school performance was amazing, but I was going through the motions. I turned to marijuana for a source of comfort, and it helped for a while, but ultimately, I was postponing the inevitable. I was drowning, unable to pull myself up. Early December, I tried to take my life. The attempt was unsuccessful, but it scared me because I felt that it was the only way to rid myself of the pain that I was going through internally. My mom, a licensed therapist, sensed there was something wrong, but depression and anxiety made me self-isolate. After my attempt, my mom made me go to therapy. I went, with the condition that my therapist was someone who looked like me. My first session, I did not open up. She just let me talk about whatever came to mind. After the second, I began explaining what was going on inside me. She helped me through it, and although I still struggle with my anxiety and bouts of depression, she continues to help me and be there for me. My therapist showed me ways to keep a handle of the overwhelming thoughts that my anxiety pushed me through and the emotions my depression caused. The first step to destigmatizing mental health is talking about it. Mental health is rarely discussed and more likely to be brushed away as a topic. The community must feel like there is somewhere safe for us to share. Enhancing accessibility to mental health outlets is an important asset to assure that the safety of the African American community. Working mental health into key places in our communities, like the church, will allow for easier access to psychoeducational opportunities. Early childcare centers and schools hosting family events surrounding social emotional learning topics will start the conversation for the whole family. Access to healthcare professionals, like therapists and psychiatrists, that look like reflections of the African American community will be motivation. The African American community will be able to talk to someone who looks like them and who has been through what they have been through.

"At every moment we comport ourselves to the kind of beings which we as humans are, as well as to the kind of beings which we are not. We constantly hold ourselves in such an understanding of being. Our comportment is carried and governed by this understanding of being . Yet this fact does not occur to us as such. We do not attend to it at all, so that we must first be reminded of this self-evidency. We have forgotten it to such an extent that we have never actually thought about it. We begin our existence with this forgottenness of our understanding of being , and the more we open ourselves up to beings, the deeper becomes our forgetting of this one thing, that in all openness to beings we understand being. But this deep forgottenness is no accident . Above all, it is no disproof that we are governed by this understanding of the undifferentiated being of beings." Heidegger, Martin. The Essence of Human Freedom : An Introduction to Philosophy, Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, 2006. ProQuest Ebook Central, http://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/troy/detail.action?docID=5309757. As I grow older, I ponder the question of how I can be. The true definition of a being is existence or the essence of a person. When we are born, we are giving the title of a being, without any guidance as to what a being will do. Martin Heidegger expands on the necessity of understanding what a being is. He expands on what a being is beyond the basic “existence.” We have no true understanding of being an being and because of this sentiment, we open ourselves to the possibility of forgetting our being. Though we are born with the mindset of existence, our being can be so much more than that. If we just think about being more than just a “being,” achieving a deeper purpose than just existence is attainable. Society focuses more on just being, and not the deeper meaning of a being. Existence is just the outer surface of the term. Humans forget that we are here on this Earth for more than just existing. We are here to discover a deeper purpose, not just scratch the surface. There are different forms and levels to existence. There is physical, which is our being. There is also abstract existences, which forms in thoughts and concepts of ideas and emotions. This is where we tend to forget that beings are much more complex then just the physical. Beings have multiple purposes in life and forgetting that constricts our living into a small area. Because we have forgotten that our being is not here just for existence, in our mind, that reality ceases to exist. We are so focused on the present moment and we do not actively reflect on our being. The active reflection of our being keeps us from forgetting our being, or our existence. Forgetting our existence does not allow us to achieve our purpose in life, a purpose that is more than just existing. Throughout Martin Heidegger’s philosophical piece on our being, he mentions the process in which a person forgets the main reason for their existence. The main reason for our existence is to be more than a being. It is to expand past the bounds in which a dictionary definition has given to us. Understanding what a being is and what it can became allows me to look forward to making myself more than just a bare minimum. Being open to the thought of becoming more revives the existences that we have made a mission to forget. It is necessary to expand our minds to not just focus on being, but to go in depth on a deeper existence.