Stop silencing the sick and suffering people with mental health issues- that’s my motivation in my career. I chose to attend Coastal Carolina University and major in psychology due to my struggles with mental health. To be quite honest, I am sick and tired of attending public mental health facilities. It takes months for me to open up or to begin trusting someone enough to speak about anything I am struggling with. That struggle is only reinforced when you show up for your 30-minute session and to your dismay, your therapist has either had a sex change overnight or is a completely different person. In such a serious area of healthcare small changes like that can be detrimental in helping someone heal. Trust and bond are paramount in any mental health professional and client relationship. Often the ones who suffer deeply have been in situations like my own, where we have wanted to regain our stability mentally, only to be let down by some uncompassionate providers who are in the wrong business. It may sound harsh to some, but I have witnessed the lack of empathy and care from the top of the chain to the bottom. I want to change that issue. There has got to be a better way to truly help the mentally ill in a safe nonjudgmental, and compassionate way. I want to be part of that solution. In my state, I have realized a huge gap in treatment when it comes to peers helping peers, because who can help more than someone who has walked a mile in someone's shoes, comparatively? No matter the advice given, it is always better to hear it from someone who knows or who has been there before. I also believe peer-to-peer counseling should be supported by a professional so that boundaries are in place when it comes to laws like HIPPA. I want to take my experience and combine it with those opinions I have heard all too often and make a change. I also believe using certain tools like music can positively impact the success of mental health treatment. Whether it is by the person playing an instrument, sitting in a corner, or relaxing with air pods to cancel out all the other nonsense around them, music can heal. In fact, after many trial and error attempts to find an outlet for myself and my anxiety, music is what worked for me. The moral of this story is that the antiquated ways of treating the mentally ill population have to be set aside. People taking on the cases need to care about helping someone. The office people need to share that same empathy, it takes a system. I have been let down in so many areas surrounding this topic, however, I am choosing to not wallow in the pity of it. I need to be the change. So remember my name, Caden Joseph Curry, because it will be known for incredible advancements in treatment. I will help others get their voices back and rid their shame of their diagnosis. My pain and struggles are now my purpose. Thank you for the opportunity to apply for assistance. I am aware of how many applications should come in and that is a testament to my generation. May you find your best candidate.

Success is excellence we all strive for, however, it means something different depending on whom you ask. It can be defined by goals you set in life professionally, personally, or economically. In my situation, my greatest success so far has been accepting myself for who I am, my flaws and all while still striving for my academic growth. Although it may seem preposterous, waking up in the morning not being in pain or feeling ill is a tremendous success I don’t experience often, but when I do I celebrate it! To go in-depth a bit further, I began getting very sick around the onset of puberty. I knew I always looked different than anyone else, but I began to notice symptoms of intense stomach pains, and head pains, and my skin was changing color and becoming scale-like. There was no hiding from all these changes. I spent most of my teens being poked and prodded. Each test result would be a new diagnosis or issues, never any answers. I remember one doctor’s appointment vividly. I remember sitting in the patient chair in the corner of the room and my mother was adjacent to me. Doctor Moore spoke to my mom for a bit and then I heard words that made no sense to me, “It may not be about the quantity of life he has, but the quality of what we can make it.” The world around me went silent and I sat with that repeating in my head over and over. How was this possible? I am a 16-year-old with my whole life ahead of me, or so I thought. As if the doctor’s words jinxed me or something, I started to get sick again. I was so sick I had to be put on medical homebound in high school in my 10th-grade year because I could barely get out of bed. That whole year, it was bad news with new issues arising consistently. I started to lose hope and recalled what the doctor had said to my mom. Was he saying I was going to to die? At my next appointment I was able to ask why he said that and what did he mean? What a loaded question that ended up being, and I was not prepared for the very in-depth long medical terminology. After about a minute I was lost and he noticed my facial expression and laughed. Then he told me that I was patient 0. With all the issues they found during my testing: genetics, MRIS, CAT scans, and blood work; findings showed that there was no one else out in the world that was alive or deceased like me. Certain genetic mutations that are evident combined with the list of disorders and issues meant nothing to me because there is no explanation of why. It was at that moment when my doctor looked at me with care and compassion and said that although we don’t have answers now, it doesn’t mean we can’t find them in the future. He said I could be sad and miserable and wallow in self deprivation or I could see the other side that I was put on Earth for a reason. I can be the reason that someone else finds their answers or maybe even save their life. He followed up by reiterating his prior statement of quality versus quantity. I left that appointment feeling rather angry, why do I have to suffer, why don’t I get to find the answers to what’s causing my body to fail me? As if this appointment wasn’t enough, my home-bound teacher came that day with a proposal. Much to my mother’s and my shock the words that came out of her mouth hit like a gut punch. She came with word from the high school that they thought it would be best for me if I just withdrew from high school and worked on getting a GED because it was “the same thing.” I can’t leave out that I was also a special education student as well due to being Autistic. I was gobsmacked! I have always been on the high honor roll, a model respectful student, so how could they give up on me? Almost immediately my mom interjected with a few choice words, respectfully of course. As horrible as their proposal was combined with my medical and emotional health deteriorating you would think I would have folded and given in but I chose at that moment to succeed, for no one else but me. Success can be found in the smallest or biggest ways, it depends on the person. My success is for me, no one else. It’s the feeling I get standing up for things I believe in and the pride I feel accomplishing my goals.

Being unique is often seen as a rather strange thing. Being different from the generic norm of society is often seen as a negative. I have looked at my uniqueness in both ways throughout my life. My mother has always told me that being unique makes me a unicorn, a one-of-a-kind. To understand that statement I will have to clarify my story of being that unicorn. I had a rough childhood, growing up with a homophobic father who treated me terribly. I had always known I was different, but years of physical abuse and name-calling made me bury who I was. Finally, when I was seven years old my mother gained the strength to obtain our freedom from my father. I was happy about the separation from my abuser, but I only noticed that I was now classified as “different.” My family wasn’t a whole unit like my peers so I was lost in the differences until I met a therapist, Phillip. He was a successful openly gay therapist who had some knack for reading people. He had me pinned from the first moment I sat with him. It only took a few visits before he got my confidence up enough to come out to my mom, with Phillip present. To my shock, she said she always knew and felt it in her heart but never wanted to make me feel even more “different” to where there would be severe mental health consequences. She apologized profusely about not having the strength to leave my dad sooner because in her heart she knew why he was so awful to me. I was also “different” in that scenario because my mom loved me no matter what and that is not the case for many in our community. This time it was good to be unique. At age 14, like most teens, puberty was beginning and changes started happening with my health. I became very ill all the time with stabbing pains in my head, numbness in my arms, and horrible stomach pains, it was as if my body was giving up on me. If the internal issues were not enough, my facial features changed. My ears were shaped differently, my head was abnormally large, and I began to grow like wildfire. I visited every specialist out there, to find no answers. There was no reason or explanation for what I was experiencing. Not only did I think I was crazy, but the doctors started treating me like I was. Tons of testing was done, including genetic testing. I began collecting diagnoses one after the other. During this time I became so depressed and began fearing death. At one point my doctor even said that he couldn’t promise me the quantity of life but he’d make sure I could have the quality of it. That’s a heavy statement for a kid. For the next 4 years, my battle continued. It was sometime last year that we realized that I am one in a million medically, meaning no one else suffers from the issues I do, I was patient zero and now become a research project. Currently, my genetics team still cannot find a cause or an explanation of why I have the illnesses I do. I am different and that may be my purpose on this planet. I can show others that being “different” is special, it’s unique. I am a 1st generation college student with financial need, but more importantly, I want to spread the message that being unique is special. It’s okay to not be part of the norm.

Sepsis was my grandmother’s grim reaper. A word that never really meant anything to me has affected my life immensely. Unfortunately, this can be a common occurrence with seriously ill people and diabetics, that is often a diagnosis that is delayed from not listening to the patient. Such was the case with my grandmother. Grandma was the light of my life. My father walked out on my family at a young age, so she stepped in and up to fill that role. She became my best friend. As a child I remember her getting sick several times, and the word sepsis thrown around, but I did not have to wherewithal to define or understand what it really was or the gravity of how severely life threatening it was. I remember distinctly the day I had asked my mother what that meant and I will forever be stuck with the look on her face as she explained. Call it childhood ignorance, but I still didn’t think it was a big deal. It wasn’t until late 2023 that I found both the definition and impact so profound. My grandma just had her gallbladder removed after suffering for months in agony. I can close my eyes and see my grandma in her hospital suite looking almost green. In my rationale the surgery was over and she was on the road to recovery, however that was the furthest from reality. Since the doctors put off treating the gallbladder, it ruptured and she had all the bile and bacteria running through her bloodstream. This was the first time I had heard the doctor say it, “She has now become septic, so it’s touch and go from here.” Such a run of the mill response to an amazingly tragic truth for my family. She didn’t deserve it, why did they not listen when she said she was in pain and something didn’t feel right? If only they had listened, the infection would have never spread to her bloodstream. It was a tough battle for months. In and out of the ICU, being transferred to different hospitals. The prognosis was grim. Sepsis didn’t know my grandma though. It didn’t know what a fighter and pillar of strength she was. After 16 weeks in the ICU, she was finally ready to come home. The day of her discharged we called her our miracle. Her being so ill and coming out the other side better was impressive, too unbelievable to fathom. It was that day I wish I would have had a firm grasp on what sepsis does to a body. On the outside she looked better, a little less greenish yellow. On the inside, there was a wildfire burning. She got to come home for less than three days before we rushed her back to the hospital. All the excitement and gratitude turned to fear because I heard the doctor say that she was just too sick and time wasn’t on their side. October 7th 2023, at 2:05pm the infection became too much and she passed surrounded by her family, in a room filled with love. My comprehension of sepsis became well defined that day by experiencing the severity of the illness and worst possible outcome. If only the doctor would have listened to her, she could have had more time. Having been affected by it I want to spread the knowledge of how fast sepsis can make things change. Letting the smallest infections go untreated can lead to life-ending consequences.please, learn from my story.

Myth?-Anxiety just means you’re nervous about a situation but you can easily get over it. Truth is this is furthest from the truth. I have battled with anxiety due to physical abuse inflicted by my male parent. I refuse to even call him the “d” or “f” words because he never was that. He was a bully, an abuser, and someone that brings me so much pain in my life. It makes more sense if I let you know that I was only around 3 or 4 when this began. I was beaten because I was different. I have autism so I never really fit in to my family as far as he was concerned. I was anxious all the time and only had comfort in my mother. This only caused further abuse which enhanced my anxiety even more. In my everyday life I struggle to be accepted for the differences in my physical and mental being. This only breads more anxiety. I like to be reclusive and stay home, or at least around my mom. When I was a baby I didn’t speak on time, in fact, I learned to sign before I ever learned to speak. My mother calls it my own language, she always understood me verbally when no one else did. When I reached my elementary years, teachers began to write letters home to tell my mother how I was getting increasingly “shy.” This behavior became more evident when my doctor tried to ask why I don’t speak at my appointments. At the time we didn’t really know why, but I would be unable to speak around anyone other than my mom, especially people older than me or in positions of authority. When I spoke around my mom she had noticed a stuttering issue. At first the psychiatrist said it was my anxiety that was causing it. This made no sense to mom, so she pushed the psychiatrist and other doctors further. I suffered from anxiety, a speech disorder, delayed motor skills, and had a traumatic childhood with having been abused and seeing my mom abused physically, verbally and emotionally. These were key factors during the time of my autism diagnosis , and who knew it was also a sign of something else. Selective mutism was a concept we had never heard of, yet I still struggle with it today. I don’t speak to strangers, doctors, visitors to my home, and I don’t have any “real” friends because they all require communication that I just can’t do. By mouth is almost paralyzed along with my brain. It is like a prolonged stutter than misfires my thoughts mixed with severe social anxiety. I clam up and get severely uncomfortable. Writing was the way I would express myself, thoughts, concerns and emotions. I didn’t understand why this was another defect in my chromosomal make up that made me different and I began to hate that word-different. As I got older I realized that my mutism was also combined with Autism, severe anxiety that was not only circumstantial; but life disabling, and an emotional feeling of lacking trust. I realized that I don’t want to be just a label, I wanted to be the help. With an anxious heart I applied to college and decided to focus on psychology. It began to take me on a journey of wanting to understand people like me. When one understands the disabling condition, they can help more. It is my dream to not only help people like me, but to help anyone struggling because when I needed it, I didn’t have it.

My life could be a lifetime movie. I am a child of a lower-income single parent which is difficult. If you add in the complexity of that parent also being disabled the effects can be profound. To make things more difficult, I am also disabled and struggle with outward and hidden disabilities. These are all complex things for a child to deal with on their own, but in combination, it can be challenging. Though these things can be super difficult on their own, I am proud to say that my mother is a rock star! I am appreciative every single day when I look back on my story and can only hope even 1 person is as lucky as I am, get ready because this is my story…. I started seeing a therapist after my father left. I struggled with the realization that I was the reason my family split apart. Although that sounds harsh, my father always bullied me. He would call me a pansy or a sissy mama’s boy. His favorite go-to insult was to tell me to stop acting like I had a vagina. Now at this point, I am only somewhere between 5 and 6 years old. At this, I began to understand that there was a difference between boys and girls, and my mom helped me with that, all the while telling me she loved me and promised she was planning to make it all stop. She would always stand up and defend me, despite the physical consequences it meant for her. Just for me being who I was my mother was both physically and verbally abused. For a few more years she suffered through pain as I did. All I wanted was somewhere to escape. My little brother, however, was what I hate to call, “a stereotypical boy.” My father had so much love to give him, but I was never good enough. That was a lot to deal with. Eventually, my mom got the courage to leave to save me. Although I was incredibly grateful, my brother was not and it built up a barrier between me and him. That's where we bring in the therapist. I needed my outlet to vent and discuss who I was but the fear instilled in me was profound. After a couple of visits, my therapist told me his story. He too was part of the LGBTQIA family. He had a very similar story to me and that gave me hope. I saw this man who despite all the darkness was able to make something out of himself. He encouraged me to “come out” to my mom. I was scared out of my mind, but I did it. She looked at me and said, “Baby, I have always known who you are, you were born who you are. There is no reason for you to explain anything to me or anyone else and I love you no matter what.” I was able to let all that pressure off myself and I credit my therapist. He didn't do anything but physically sit and support me like my father couldn't. That moment I decided on my career path. I will be that psychology major who will help ease the burdens of our community when it comes to their mental health. I want to be the pillar of strength for the kids like me who need that small gift of an ear to listen. That's how I want to make a difference. I no longer want anyone to struggle in silence. Live out loud and be who you are!

I would like to start by expressing gratitude for the opportunity to apply for this scholarship. My name is Caden Curry and I am 18 years old. I have had a long road medically that has left me diagnosed with many different medical issues. At first, I was diagnosed with acromegaly. Another name for the disease is gigantism. I have several growth-related genetic malformations that were not found until I was eleven. While I was undergoing tests for different genetic diseases I was found to have a pituitary tumor. For many months I underwent testing and became very very ill. My case was medically in no way, shape, or form like anyone else’s the doctors had ever seen. By the time I was 13, I found out that I had something called peri-ventricular nodular heterotopia. My family and doctors did a lot of research on the disease but didn't find that much. I, still to this day, undergo constant testing to find answers. The craziest fact is that there have been 3 cases of this disease found in fetuses; 2 of them were female and survived past utero, and the third was male and did not. That makes me the only living male with PVNH so my treatment and prognosis are not guaranteed. One of the first signs my family noticed was that I would go through these “spells” where I would seem disconnected from my body. My mother says it is as if I am not in my body and she can't see into my eyes. In those moments, I appear to be in space and do not respond to any outside stimuli. I have to come out of it gradually and on my own. I later found out that I had focal and absence seizures. Sometimes it looks like I am just daydreaming. Other times it can be a little scarier where I could have some odd movements with my eyelids or hands. A few weeks ago I began to have more and more of them, almost on top of one another. They started lasting longer than 3 minutes, I would go in and out of them rapidly, and at one point we noticed my head swelling pretty bad and it caused severe pain. The pain becomes debilitating. Several neurologists didn’t understand anything more than that it was a genetic cause. Many of them didn’t even want to classify my physical symptoms as seizures, although PVNH is medically classified as involving seizures. I was lucky enough to have 1 episode caught on an EEG. So that is where my epilepsy journey began. Like many things in life, my journey is not the same as anyone else’s. It will probably stay that way and that is the one thing I have learned to accept about myself. I am different. I am patient zero. At many points in my life, I suffered a great deal, almost every day, but it has never stopped me from pushing forward in life. I will live with hope that one day I will have answers, all the while knowing it may not be in the cards for me. I have made peace with that. So weirdly that is what I am most proud of. I am proud of myself for being okay with the unknown because that is life. Life is about walking into the unknown and being okay with that. My legacy will hopefully be the answers that come one day. I may not be blessed to get them, but by living I can save someone else’s life. A legacy & a miracle.

I would like to start this essay submission by introducing myself. My name is Caden Curry. I am currently 18 years old and I aspire to practice in the field of psychology. For myself, I knew that from a young age where I wanted to go to college and what I wanted to major in. In November I was overjoyed to recieve an early acceptance letter from my dream school, Coastal Carolina University. All the excitement started to lead to fear. My mother struggles with both multiple sclerosis and mental health issues. My worry was two-fold: how will she handle me not being around and how it would effect my own struggles with mental health issues. I feel like I must mention that my entire family has problems with mental health. For generations we have all battled the stigmas of the diseases we didn’t ask for. I have faith that it is my purpose on Earth to help people, and no matter what my faith would make a way because if you ask the universe for it, and you deserve it, it will serve it. Due to my struggle with mental health & physical health, I know adversity. It is my wish to help people with the same issues I have. The world dealt me a not-so-great hand medically. One of my medical conditions is that there is no other male living with it in the world. That will never stop my purpose to help ease the mental toll medical issues take. I believe that there is a huge gap in treatment that would sufficiently help more people. Speaking from experience, I have been the patient that goes to therapy and you immediately notice the first time the doctor checks his watch for your starting time. Exactly 30 minutes later, whether you are mid sentence or not, you get the phrase “so we will continue this next week,” with little to no respect for the depth to which you had gone. It is like a knife to the heart and a huge disappointment when you put the faith and trust in someone with your deepest and darkest secrets and the treat you like you are just another singular person. To make matters worse, they don’t remember you the following week and you begin again. That is a major gap causing treatment success rates to drop drastically. How can you open up to someone who isn’t even paying attention, or giving you the respect that you deserve? That circumstance is also linked to the issue that patients get close to therapists who just up and leave. I found this to be a common problem with the state mental health services. The amount the patient themselves puts on the line is not matched with the care they get. We know that there is a huge lack of resources in therapists and even physicians now, especially affordable ones. This lead me to my next goal. I believe that any and all mental health care should be free. Treating mental health as a problem of circumstances, or choice is negligent and dangerous. I am aware that there is a fine line to walk and it will take a lot of work and explanation added with trial and error to make this space in medicine more successful. There is overwhelming statistical support that changes need to be made in this field. I no longer want to sit back and just give my opinions. I want to help be the change the world needs. I wholeheartedly believe my purpose in this world is to help others.

In my circumstance, my medical conditions have stopped me from being able to take AP credits. At any given point over the past 8 years, just the simple task of getting to class and making it through a day was an overwhelming concept and a miraculous accomplishment. I feel I should be able to apply for this scholarship because the road I have had is, in my opinion, just as difficult as those advanced courses. In my experience, the struggle of overcoming medical barriers that I cannot control is equivalent to the difficulty of those courses. To understand what I mean you must know that I have several medical issues that are a million in one, and in one case I am considered patient zero. That has been my advanced course in life, not just scholastically. To me it is much more of an accomplishment to make it through a day and now more importantly my secondary education career. I must include that I did take some of the toughest courses in high school while being on medical homebound instruction. I had to struggle every day medically all the while teaching myself chemistry and geometry. Both subjects involved equations and contained mathematical principles, which I always struggled with. As an autistic person, I struggle with grey areas that are not set out. In my mind, there is a right and a wrong with no in-between. My senior year my school wanted to place me in probability and statistics class, which gave me imminent panic. I knew as someone who has dealt with the hand I was given it would be my downfall. I was not afraid of the hard work, and I accepted those challenges with ease, however, knowing my brain capability led me to speak up for myself. I advocated for myself and changed to Pre-Calculus. Everyone doubted me. Why would I want to take a course that was considered way harder instead of taking a normal curriculum? The answer was and always will be that I will choose to work harder for something I am challenged by that is within my capabilities. I did not fear the hard work in prob and stat, instead I knew I would set myself up for failure. I believe that knowing who you are and knowing your capabilities reflects how hardworking you are. Changing course when you realize a task is insurmountable doesn’t make you less of a hard worker. It is the exact opposite. Pre-Cal was not an easy course, it was extremely challenging yet I worked as hard as I could and came out with a 94 average in a class no one believed I could even pass. That is how hardworking and dedicated I am to my education. My hard work has taught me to speak up for myself because I know myself best. Financial burdens for me are always a part of life. My mother supports us on SSI, which is not a lot of income. I was accepted early with some partial scholarships to Coastal Carolina University, my dream college. The burden lies in the cost and not in the coursework. To be 100% honest I will not be able to attend without scholarships. I will continue to work hard and write scholarship essays to show I do not want my hard work to stop at high school. I will not stop working to obtain my goals. My struggle has taught me the kindness of strangers and the importance of being kind, my will is to spread it forward.

I lost my grandmother in October. She was my world, my mentor, my hero, and just my everything. The poor woman struggled in many ways with mental health. She took care of her mother who was very suicidal. She attempted suicide several times. She also struggled with bipolar disorder and had multiple personalities. I was so confused because my grandmother said she felt some type of relief when her mom passed because she couldn't take the abuse anymore- that stuck with me. Grandma wasn't that lucky and within a few years, all four of her daughters were diagnosed with some type of mental illness. My mother probably was the worst. She was rebellious and angry all the time. Her doctors said it was from losing her dad when she was 5 after a brief struggle with an aggressive cancer. My mother started to have abandonment issues that still last to this day. For her other three daughters, the struggle with mental health led them to issues with drugs and alcohol and times got dark. Two of her children attempted suicide over and over. It was once again a pain my grandmother knew all too well. She continued to stand beside her kids in the hope of helping in some way shape or form. Years later my grandmother found relief in a blast from the past when she met my poppa. He was someone she knew from growing up in New York City, but they hadn't seen each other in years. He was one of the best things that happened to them. Struggles got a little easier because the abandonment of my mother was relieved just by his presence. After a few years together they got married. They had a wonderful life for the first six months. Although he was a cleptomaniac when he had all the money in the world to buy what he wanted, he started to get a “high” off of it. His mood started changing and he became withdrawn and quiet. On July 26, 2001, it started like an ordinary day. He had called home and spoke with my mom. He told her what he wanted for dinner and then asked to speak to Grandma. Before my mom passed the phone, he weirdly uttered a quick I love you, this was very odd. Their normal routine was love ya-no bye. Not thinking anything into it she gave grandma the phone. Mom made him his favorite dinner but by 5 p.m...…He wasn’t home. Hours passed slowly. They went to look for him but where did he go? They went home and called the police. Hours later they showed up to let our family know he was dead- suicide. These stories pushed me to enter the psychology field. I want to make a difference and I want to help change statistics. Huge gaps exist within the counseling aspect. No doctor out there doesn't put you on a time clock and tell you you will pick up next week, only to not recognize you a week later. Peer experience isn’t looked to as a major benefit in treatment, yet who knows better than someone who’s been there? After all, sometimes we just need to know we are not alone. Prescribing the wrong drugs or piling one on top of the other has a huge consequence on the brain yet it is rejected as an area to improve. The main improvement to mental health is having providers who have been there, know your pain, and can give real advice from experience, not from a textbook. I hope to be that difference.

I would like to start by introducing myself and thanking you for this opportunity. My name is Caden Curry and I am 18 years old. I currently reside in South Carolina and plan to attend college here as well. I was accepted into Coastal Carolina University this November with early acceptance. I worked hard through many obstacles throughout my high school career. Although it is not typical, my being able to say that I will graduate with honors is probably what I am most proud of. I am not the proudest of this achievement for the recognition or any merit received from it. I am the most proud of achieving this goal because of the determination and character-building it taught me. I was diagnosed with a rare disease a few years ago. As time passed I saw every medical professional that exists on this planet. Many may be presumptuous thinking that I would have found answers or a course of treatment by now, but that is not the case. I am left with more questions, no cure, and a gaggle of medications that I don’t even know what they all do anymore. I have missed a tremendous amount of teacher instruction due to being ill. By the end of my sophomore and junior years, I was out on medical homebound while I was poked and prodded like a test dummy. It was a struggle because my course load included chemistry and geometry. Math was never my strong suit. I will admit that I am a special education student for that reason and the fact that I have Autism. Educational stuff never came easy to me. Every A was a struggle and a monumental achievement. I had to try harder than so many people. I didn’t just struggle because of the Autism, it was more the physical and mental wearing down that came with every unanswered question from the slew of doctors. I did become severely depressed at a point and I just wanted to quit. The doctors weren’t giving me much hope and getting my work done was so difficult. It was in that black cloud moment that I realized that I was not alone. There are kids like me out there who struggle every day for many reasons, maybe not my reasons, but it was a similar struggle. I chose at that moment to strive hard and stay ambitious. I needed to set a goal that at the time seemed to be insurmountable. I was not only going to graduate, but I was going to be at the top of my class and graduate with honors. Accomplishing this goal made me realize that anything I put my mind to can happen. No matter what tribulations I may face in the future, I know that I can overcome anything and everything. My goal of making an impact in other people’s lives will come true and I will get my degree in psychology. It is my purpose in life to teach that if I can overcome my obstacles, I can achieve anything. Ask the universe and when it receives it, you will achieve it.

I would like to start by introducing myself. My name is Caden Curry. I am originally from NY but have resided in South Carolina for 15 years. I began my schooling in this state and will complete it here as well. As a person, I am hardworking, focused, driven, and destined to achieve my goals in life. The only path forward to do so is attending college. For me, it was important to take that a step further and attend a 4-year university. Last fall, I submitted my application for admittance to Coastal Carolina University. This was the only school I applied to and had the faith in myself to get in. In November, I was elated when a piece of mail came from the university. As I was shaking, I opened the envelope and was overwhelmed that I had just received early acceptance into the university. Moreover, as I read the letter I saw that I was also recognized as being welcomed with a Teal Scholar title due to academic achievements. My mother was so shocked because she was nervous about me being dead set on one select school. I was driven by my goal to achieve what I have always wanted, I was able to attend a university, something no one in my family has ever done. I did this by hard work and overcoming so many obstacles in my way. This is where I recognized a huge problem, finances. My mother struggles with Multiple Sclerosis and is on Social Security. There is no way that she could afford the tuition, she was adamant that I do not get caught up in student loans. There was never a minute I was discouraged, instead I pushed further. I promised myself that under no circumstance would I give up my dream no matter what the barricade was. Throughout the year I have ground pavement and looked up every scholarship under the sun and my fingers got to work. Although I do not know being accepted for any of them, I have faith that it is my purpose on Earth to help people, and no matter what my faith would make a way because if you ask the universe for it, and you deserve it, it will serve it. Due to my struggle with mental health & physical health, I know adversity. It is my wish to help people with the same issues I have. The world dealt me a not-so-great hand medically. One of my medical conditions is that there is no other male living with it in the world. That will never stop my purpose to help ease the mental toll medical issues take on people like me. Yes, doctors may have the medical knowledge, if you are lucky enough, but don't understand how diagnoses affect people every day. Whether they struggle with complex issues like mine or are suffering from ADD, we all deserve the help. It is my passion to give a voice to the often voiceless. The need to destigmatize mental health issues, even some medical issues, has been vast in this country alone for so many years. Each generation tries or attempts to make this change but I think they are missing that certain something inside that makes you not give up, it's called being patient. With every fiber of my being, I know I will make a difference in this world through psychology no matter my approach to practicing it. So many people look at the financial aspect of college and give up, not me.

Unfortunately for many people in the population, mental health issues are stigmatized. Labels like crazy, insane, psychopath, and many others are thrown around loosely without any regard for the human being who is internally struggling to cope and understand the complexity of their illnesses. They struggle in silence and often don’t seek the help that is needed because of the fear of being labeled. This has to change. People in my generation can make a massive change in the field of psychology and the sociological “norm.” The truth is that many people I know have struggled to even decide to ask for help. Their lives got out of control and the disease became bigger than what it had to be. If only they had asked for help sooner, many of those people would be here today. Although I am not fully comfortable sharing other people’s stories, I will share those I have permission to tell, because building trust is key when it comes to helping people. First I will use the example of my grandfather. To the outside world, he looked like the average middle-class man. He was funny, outgoing, and a joy to be around. His personality was almost infectious. He worked hard to support his family, yet a sign we missed was that he always worked alone. On July 26, 2001, he didn’t arrive home when he should have. After time passed, my mother and grandmother went to look for him, to no avail. On July 27, 2001, an officer showed up at their door at 2:37 am to announce that there had been an accident and he was at the hospital. My mom and grandma grabbed their belongings to rush to be by his side, and then an officer grabbed them and sat them down. My mother describes the next few moments as if time passes through an hourglass. The words “I am sorry ma’am” were all they had to hear. They knew what was about to be said, he was dead. No one knew why, someone who seemed to have it so put together and who loved their family so much, how could this happen? Why were there no signs, or did they miss them? Those answers for my family never came. They got the who, what, where, how, and when, but the why never came. He was one of those who suffered silently, without any inkling of red flags. Automatically, because he worked alone, he was labeled as depressed because of the manner of death being suicide. We automatically assume that he was depressed or bipolar but diagnoses like these can’t be made post-mortem. We will never know why or what he struggled with internally that led to that haste decision. The lesson that was taught in his fealty is that too many people choose a long-term consequence for a short-term struggle, especially one that could have been helped by a medical professional. My second story is about myself. I was diagnosed with an attachment disorder when I was 8, then came the diagnosis of ADD and depression by 10. At 13, I began struggling with severe medical issues. I cannot say that at some point in that period, I didn’t think of ending the pain. My mom, thank god, reiterated that lesson of not choosing a long-term consequence for a short-term issue. It was at 14 that I started mental health therapy. I went faithfully but most days it didn’t feel like it was helping. How could some doctor in a chair, who was timing me, really understand my issues? I started to notice every time I went I had to start at the beginning, which meant I was getting nowhere. It was at that moment that I decided that I knew I was going to make a difference in people’s lives, especially those who struggle with mental diseases. I did not choose to struggle emotionally, I never asked for any of it. I could not will it away nor imagine it didn’t exist. I had to come to terms with and learn more about my diagnosis to help myself. I continue to do this til this very day. I follow the medication protocol, the therapy, and visits with the psychiatrist but in my head, I know that their patterns are contributing to the stigma. We are just patients to them. They often don’t remember our names and not our stories, which are very personal. By the time you even get comfortable with one, they probably end up leaving the practice and you are back at ground zero. I have yet to find someone who cares about the patient. My struggles led me to pursue a career in psychology. I’m not just doing this for a high-paying job, it’s to help make a monumental change in the field and approach to treatment. I believe that there are huge benefits to peer counseling. People you can talk to that have walked a mile in your shoes. Although I am aware that there probably not be 2 patients with the same story, they can learn from each other how to use coping mechanisms and the benefits of medications. There is a stronger sense of anonymity between peers. Secrets stay secrets unless the cardinal rule is broken, if someone discusses the possibility of making one of those short-term problem decisions with long-term consequences. In my state this approach is illegal. However, this can fill a huge gap in the success rate of treatment. I strongly feel that mental health professionals take a hit to the ego in relying on their patients to help each other and that’s a problem. It shows that they have no faith in what treatment they are giving to that individual. That is where a change needs to be made, who knows, it can probably save a life.

High school is supposed to be a time of unforgettable moments and memories, filled with fun times with friends, exciting trips, and memorable events like prom and sports games. But for me, high school was a time of immense struggle and obstacles. My medical issues seemed to mount with each passing year, and I felt increasingly isolated and different from my peers. It seemed like every time I turned around, I was facing a new diagnosis, a new challenge, and a new reason to question whether I was meant to succeed. But then, one day, someone said something to me that changed everything. They told me that if I put my dreams out into the universe, if I worked hard and did everything in my power to achieve them, then I deserved to succeed. Those words gave me the strength to keep going, even when things seemed impossibly tough. Throughout all my struggles, my grandmother was always there for me. She reminded me that being different wasn't a bad thing - in fact, it made me special, like a unicorn. She would comfort me when I came home from school, rubbing my bald head and telling me to stand strong, that it would all be over soon. When more medical issues arose, my grandmother would tell me that everything happens for a reason, even if we don't know what that reason is yet. And when she fell ill, we grew even closer. Her illness made me realize just how precious every moment is, and how important it is to cherish the people around us. When my grandmother passed away, I was devastated. But even in her final moments, she reminded me that I was loved and that I could do anything. It was a difficult time, but I knew that I had to keep pushing forward. And so I did. Despite all the challenges I faced, I managed to graduate with honors and even made it into my dream university. My grandmother won't physically be there to see me walk across the stage, but I know that she'll be with me in spirit, cheering me on every step of the way. I've learned that life is unpredictable and that we never know what the future holds. But we can choose to live every day to the fullest, to accept the love and support of those around us, and to never give up on our dreams.

I would like to start by introducing myself. My name is Caden Curry. I am originally from NY but have resided in South Carolina for 15 years. I began my schooling in this state and will complete it here as well. As a person, I am hardworking, focused, driven, and destined to achieve my goals in life. The only path forward to do so is attending college. For me, it was important to take that a step further and attend a 4-year university. Last fall, I submitted my application for admittance to Coastal Carolina University. This was the only school I applied to and had the faith in myself to get in. In November, I was elated when a piece of mail came from the university. As I was shaking, I opened the envelope and was overwhelmed that I had just received early acceptance into the university. Moreover,  as I read the letter I saw that I was also recognized as being welcomed with a Teal Scholar title due to academic achievements. My mother was so shocked because she was nervous about me being dead set on one select school. I was driven by my goal to achieve what I have always wanted, I was able to attend a university, something no one in my family has ever done. I did this by hard work and overcoming so many obstacles in my way. This is where I recognized a huge problem, finances. My mother struggles with Multiple Sclerosis and is on Social Security. There is no way that she could afford the tuition, she was adamant that I do not get caught up in student loans. There was never a minute I was discouraged, instead I pushed further. I promised myself that under no circumstance would I give up my dream no matter what the barricade was. Throughout the year I have ground pavement and looked up every scholarship under the sun and my fingers got to work. Although I do not know being accepted for any of them, I have faith that it is my purpose on Earth to help people, and no matter what my faith would make a way because if you ask the universe for it, and you deserve it, it will serve it. Due to my struggle with mental health & physical health, I know adversity. It is my wish to help people with the same issues I have. The world dealt me a not-so-great hand medically. One of my medical conditions is that there is no other male living with it in the world. That will never stop my purpose to help ease the mental toll medical issues take on people like me. Yes, doctors may have the medical knowledge, if you are lucky enough, but don't understand how diagnoses affect people every day. Whether they struggle with complex issues like mine or are suffering from ADD, we all deserve the help. It is my passion to give a voice to the often voiceless. The need to destigmatize mental health issues, even some medical issues, has been vast in this country alone for so many years. Each generation tries or attempts to make this change but I think they are missing that certain something inside that makes you not give up, it's called being patient. With every fiber of my being, I know I will make a difference in this world through psychology no matter my approach to practicing it. So many people look at the financial aspect of college and give up, not me.