The mental and behavioral aspects of a person have always fascinated me because people are wired differently. I am pursuing pediatric psychiatric nursing, with the hopes of becoming a pediatric psychiatric nurse practitioner, because I want to support healing where science and human experiences meet. I know firsthand what it feels like to battle the mind without support, language to explain the pain, or adults trained to respond. My own struggle began in 2022 during my senior year of high school. At first, I buried it beneath academic excellence, humor, and the belief that handling my pain silently was surviving. Behind the honor roll, however, undiagnosed anxiety and depression pulled me into constant survival mode. In December 2022, I attempted to take my own life. Starting therapy was not voluntary, but ultimately, it transformed my life. I asked for a therapist who looked like me, someone who would not misunderstand the pain of cultural expectations layered on top of mental illness. In her office, I met healing through patience, a quality that I will rely heavily on throughout my own advocacy for adolescents struggling mentally. She let me speak before asking me to explain. I felt safe being vulnerable. My therapist did more than treat symptoms; she taught me coping strategies and consistency. To this day, I still struggle with depressive episodes and managing my anxiety. However, mental health is something that is tackled day by day with attentive love and care, a reason why I want to pursue pediatric psychiatric nursing and become that advocate for others. I want to enter pediatric psychiatry not just because mental illness begins early, but because intervention must occur at the beginning. Childhood is the developmental birthplace of emotional regulation and coping mechanisms. Pediatric psychiatric nurses sit at a powerful intersection. They comfort, assess, and advocate for children, often becoming a child’s safest adult. I am especially drawn to the African American community. Children of color are disproportionately disciplined rather than diagnosed. I want to help reshape this narrative by integrating mental health into trusted community infrastructures like schools and early childcare centers. Destigmatization starts with conversation, but healing starts with access. Beyond clinical impact, I want to be a force of advocacy for community mental health literacy and pediatric psychiatric training for caregivers and educators. I want there to be more proactive support, rather than reactive solutions. My goal is not simply to treat children in crisis, but to prevent them from ever believing that crisis is irreversible. I want every child I encounter to know what I did not: you do not have to collapse, or even be on the verge of collapse, to deserve support. I am entering this field because I once needed the very nurse I plan to become. This scholarship will allow me to continue school, so I am able to finish my journey. My tuition was raised, making it financially hard for me to continue school for the two years I have left. Hopefully, I will be able to pursue my dreams with the help of this scholarship.

I struggle with my mental health and have struggled for the last 6 years. My cousin died by suicide when I was 15 years old, and that singular event changed the trajectory of my life. Now most people do not see marijuana as a substance you can be addicted to; however, I was. I shut the people I loved out of my life and started using marijuana regularly. At first, I did not see the destruction it had on my life. I graduated high school and started my freshman year at Troy University. It was used regularly around me, leading me to partake more. My usage continued until I almost lost the one purpose I had in my life: getting into nursing school. I have dreamed of being a pediatric psychiatric nurse since my junior year of high school. I made a mistake that almost cost me entrance into my nursing program. Throughout the years, I attended therapy. At first, it helped. It gave me an idea of why I felt the way I felt and why it felt like marijuana helped. I was diagnosed with severe anxiety. My therapist helped me work through what I was feeling, and she helped me find different, useful coping mechanisms instead of marijuana. My therapist is the reason I am who I am today. She poured into me during one of the darkest times of my life. She celebrated my wins with me and mourned my losses. I intend to be that person for the pediatric patients I want to work with. Pediatric psychiatric nurses are the tools adolescents need, so they can believe in what they can do. I want to nurture children and adolescents who struggle with mental health, just as my therapist did with me. I refuse to let another child feel alone, to turn to substances because substances only numb the pain temporarily. I am sober now and have been for two years. I still speak to my therapist weekly, and I apply the tools she has given me to manage my grief and my anxiety. My education and my future as a pediatric psychiatric nurse have outweighed my desire to cope with marijuana. I am so close to the finish line, with only two and a half years left. However, my institution has raised its fees, and now I am unable to afford the last two and a half years. I hope this scholarship will allow me to finish out my last two and a half years so I can make a difference, just as my therapist did for me.

My younger sister is 14 years old with high-functioning autism. She is one of the smartest people I know, and she inspires me to want to be there for others. My sister, Savannah, continuously shows up for her classmates, even when it is hard. She faces discrimination due to her uniqueness, and I make it my duty to be that support she needs when life gets hard. Everything I do is for her. She was being bullied by classmate in 7th grade. When I found out, I dropped everything to show up for her. I never want her to feel as though she is not enough. I do not want to feel alone in life, because she is my reason I continue to go on. My career path is nursing, which is designed to be a listening ear for patients who need their needs heard. As a nurse, I will be a built-in support system for patients and families. I want to be a pediatric psychiatric nurse. Kids need people to build them up so they can believe in what they can do. 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 their voice for themselves. The world of nursing is 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 make 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 to become a nurse so I can build meaningful connections with patients and families, as well as 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 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 mental health and well-being. I want to be that advocate for the youth, for those who cannot use their voice. The scholarship will allow me to focus on the educational aspect of my degree, without having to worry about the financial stress college will bring. By putting my focus on obtaining my degree, I can make a better difference for the future of mental health in adolescents and healthcare as a whole.

The mental and behavioral aspects of a person have always fascinated me because people are wired differently. I am pursuing pediatric psychiatric nursing, with the hopes of becoming a pediatric psychiatric nurse practitioner, because I want to support healing where science and human experiences meet. I know firsthand what it feels like to battle the mind without support, language to explain the pain, or adults trained to respond. My own struggle began in 2022 during my senior year of high school. At first, I buried it beneath academic excellence, humor, and the belief that handling my pain silently was surviving. Behind the honor roll, however, undiagnosed anxiety and depression pulled me into constant survival mode. I began using marijuana as a temporary refuge. I hit a point where the pain felt larger than my reality, and I was too far away to ask for help. Starting therapy was not voluntary, but ultimately, it transformed my life. My mother, a mental health professional, knew the signs even when depression stole my voice. She was just too close to me to help. I asked for a therapist who looked like me, someone who would not misunderstand the pain of cultural expectations layered on top of mental illness. In her office, I met healing through patience, a quality that I will rely heavily on throughout my own advocacy for adolescents struggling mentally. She let me speak before asking me to explain. I felt safe being vulnerable, and I did not believe that I deserved to feel how I felt. My therapist taught me coping strategies and consistency. I want to enter pediatric psychiatry not just because mental illness begins early, but because intervention must occur at the beginning. Childhood is the developmental birthplace of emotional regulation, coping mechanisms, and self-worth. A child who suffers without scaffolding becomes an adult full of doubt. Pediatric psychiatric nurses sit at a powerful intersection. They comfort, assess, and advocate for children, often becoming a child’s safest adult in a system where the mind is examined more often than soothed, and concerns are often dismissed without reasoning. I am especially drawn to vulnerable populations who struggle beneath misunderstood stereotypes and systemic barriers. Children of color are disproportionately disciplined rather than diagnosed, voices are often silenced. I want to help reshape this narrative by integrating mental health into trusted community infrastructures like schools and early childcare centers. Beyond clinical impact, I want to be a force of advocacy for community mental health literacy and pediatric psychiatric training for caregivers and educators. Mental health struggles should be seen by all but felt by one. I want there to be more proactive support, rather than reactive solutions. My goal is not simply to treat children in crisis, but to prevent them from ever believing that crisis is irreversible. I want every child I encounter to know what I did not: you do not have to collapse, or even be on the verge of collapse, to deserve support. I am entering this field because I once needed the very nurse I plan to become. I will be the support every child deserves access to. This scholarship will allow me to continue school, so I am able to finish my journey. My tuition was raised, making it financially hard for me to continue school for the two years I have left. Hopefully, I will be able to pursue my dreams with the help of this scholarship.

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.

I am someone who has learned that mental health is often a silent thread that runs beneath our relationships, choices, and self-identity. For most of my life, I did not think about it much. I was active, social, and achieving academically. In September 2022, however, everything changed in ways I did not see coming. What I first dismissed as “senioritis” turned into something darker and consuming. Although my school performance stayed strong, my emotional world began to collapse. I withdrew from my social life, avoiding people who cared for me and lost interest in everything that once made me happy. Basketball had always been an anchor for me, but after injury upon injury, that sense of familiarity could not keep me grounded. I stopped eating and felt parts of myself fading. Each day became survival mode. I knew that I was drowning in my own thoughts. I could not name the pain I felt, only that it was getting stronger. Out of desperation, I turned to marijuana as a way to numb the thoughts that were always circling. For a short time, it felt like relief, but in reality, it only masked the symptoms while the pain deepened inside. My relationship with God started to slip. I became unrecognizable to myself. In December, I attempted to take my life. Even now, it scares me to think how close I came to giving up on everything. In that moment, the pain felt so loud and endless that it seemed like the only escape. I did not think about the consequences or the heartbreak it would cause my family. I was just tired of hurting. After my attempt, the pain did not magically go away. In fact, it intensified so much that I lashed out at everything and everyone. One day, after an argument with my father, everything I had bottled up came bursting out. I finally told him about my attempt, my overwhelming feelings, and the darkness I carried on my own. My parents were shocked, but instead of turning me away, they stepped in with love and urgency. They found me a therapist, a decision that ultimately saved my life. Therapy gave me language for what I was experiencing. I learned I was dealing with depression, an anxiety disorder, and an eating disorder. My therapist did not rush me. She allowed me to talk about the normal things, gradually opening up to her as our sessions went on. I opened up about the thoughts and emotions I continuously pushed down. Week by week, she helped me regain my sense of self. With her support, I began to rekindle the relationships I had alienated, reconnecting with my faith and rediscovering joy in my daily life. I started going out with friends, confiding in my mom, and allowing myself to feel things without shutting down. My family (my dad especially) also became more open to mental health. I still have moments when depression or anxiety tries to overwhelm me, but I no longer face them alone. My therapist taught me that depression comes in seasons. It is not permanent, and it does not define me. With the right tools, however, it becomes something that I can navigate through. Mental illness has shaped my life, but it does not define me. It taught me the importance of speaking through my pain.

In a world that is divided by class, race, and social life, being there for others is unmatched support. 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 serving 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 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 their voice for themselves. The world of nursing is 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 make 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 to become a nurse so I can build meaningful connections with patients and families, as well as 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 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 mental health and well-being. I want to be that advocate for the youth, for those who cannot use their voice. The scholarship will allow me to focus on the educational aspect of my degree, without having to worry about the financial stress college will bring. By putting my focus on obtaining my degree, I can make a better difference for the future of mental health in adolescents and healthcare as a whole.

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 calling in my life, driven by an intense desire to help others and make 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 to become a nurse so I can build meaningful connections with patients and families, as well as 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 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 mental health and well-being. I want to be that advocate for the youth, for those who cannot use their voice. Mental health is important to me because I went through my 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 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 their 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 make 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 to become a nurse so I can build meaningful connections with patients and families, as well as 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 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 mental health and well-being. I want to be that advocate for the youth, for those who cannot use their voice. Mental health is important to me because I went through my 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 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 their 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 make 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 to become a nurse so I can build meaningful connections with patients and families, as well as 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 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 mental health and well-being. I want to be that advocate for the youth, for those who cannot use their voice. Mental health is important to me because I went through my 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 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 their voice for themselves. I have prepared myself by shadowing others in my field, doing research, and keeping an open mind,

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. I volunteer at an free Hispanic Clinic, which helps me utilize my communication skills with a different demographic.

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. I found this scholarship by looking for multiple to apply to.

Mental health acts as the unseen force behind our daily decisions and interactions. My mental health struggle began in 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 I was out due to an 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 progressed, my suffering in silence soon led me to cry out for help. I was scared there wasn’t anyone who understood 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 a 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 at 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. In 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 had 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 when my depression wins again, but I remember that depression comes in seasons. There are times when panic attacks hit, and I feel as if the world is over. That feeling does not last forever. My therapist showed me ways to keep a handle on the overwhelming thoughts that my anxiety pushed me through and the emotions my depression caused. My therapist taught me how to lean on others, and to ask for help when I am struggling. I began eating more, going out more, and sharing more. I talk about my struggle because mental health waits for 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.

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.