Growing up, my parents both struggled with mental health in different ways. From anxiety disorders to bipolar disorder, my exposure to mental health issues has been ever-present. Growing up, I began to feel the effects this was having on my own mental health. What my parents thought was just a shy child was really a silent battle with social anxiety that worsened with age. By the time I got into middle school, I was nearly sick with anxiety every day. The physical symptoms of this anxiety were extremely jarring. From nausea, vomiting, dizziness, and faintness, my anxiety was becoming a daily problem. I knew I needed help when I got to my 7th-grade year, and I would refuse to go to school on the days that I had music class. The idea of singing or playing music solos in front of the class triggered my anxiety in ways I had never experienced. New physical symptoms began, resulting in heart-related issues like heart palpitations. This led to visits with multiple doctors and cardiologists, tests, heart monitors, and medications. Along with this, my parents put me into bi-weekly therapy and allowed me to go on anxiety medication. Though these resources made a huge impact on my anxiety, my struggles were far from over. It took years of practice and discipline to be able to begin overcoming my anxieties. The beginning of high school is often a very anxiety-ridden time for most students, but for me, this was when I began to make breakthroughs with my anxiety. In my freshman year, my therapist set a goal for me to try one new thing. She said it could be big or small, I just had to push myself through the anxiety. I decided that I would go for something big. I tried out for the soccer team with my best friend. I had always loved the idea of soccer, but was always too scared to try. Surprisingly, I made varsity as a freshman. My experience doing cross country made me one of the strongest runners on the team. Many days joining the soccer team felt like the worst decision, but I continued to push forward. Towards the end of my first year of soccer, I had a knee injury that resulted in surgery and nine months of physical therapy, but I couldn't have been more proud of myself. Being able to join a team of new people, to play a sport I'd never played, was one of the scariest things I had done, but the feeling of accomplishment was one of the best things I had ever experienced. I truly believe this became one of the reasons I decided to pursue higher education. As a first-generation college student, I felt the lack of help from my family, as they had no experience with college applications and admissions counselors. It was new to all of us, and the uncertainty only increased my anxiety. I took this as another opportunity to conquer my anxieties. I applied for college and was accepted in late November, and within only a few short weeks, I had moved away from home and was the first in my family to be pursuing a bachelor's degree. Since then, I have been able to significantly decrease my therapy visits and have been able to completely stop my anxiety medications. I have also been able to pursue a dual bachelor's degree. Though this journey has been difficult and I still face challenges every day, I have never been more proud of myself and the things I am working towards every day.

My journey with substance abuse began before I was born. Addictive personalities and genetic tendencies towards addiction were all I heard about growing up. It was the excuse for my great-grandparents, and their children, and their children, and then for my brother. At the age of 16, my brother began experimenting with drugs and alcohol. At the same time, he also got his driver's license, and with this newfound freedom, what started as smoking marijuana quickly spiraled into an opioid addiction. From the age of 16 to the age of 25, I watched as my brother lost everything. From his relationships to his high school diploma, his license, and his freedom, I watched as not only one life was affected but all of our lives. Addiction has always been prevalent in my family, most of the time manifesting as alcohol abuse. As a kid, my relationship with members of my family outside of my immediate household was nearly nonexistent as my parents tried to keep us ignorant of the realities of addiction in my family. Though this worked for a time, it's hard to deny the impact of addiction when it's living in your house. My brother's addiction quickly spiraled into violence, desperation, and dishonesty. I watched as he put not only his own life at risk but that of those around him. Stealing life-saving medications from family members in an attempt to get high was one of the final straws for my parents. This resulted in the arrest of my brother, who was then made to go to a rehabilitation facility over 27 hours away from home. For 9 months, I did not see my brother, but the impact of his addiction was still ever-present. My parents grew distant and angry over the situation. My church family became judgmental and harsh regarding the situation. Teachers at school would pull me out into the hallway or call me to the counselor's office. Even though he was over 1,600 miles away, the ripples of his actions still impacted me daily. For almost 10 years, I watched as my brother cycled through addiction, jail, rehab, and back into addiction. For 9 years, I watched as my family was torn apart. When I was 16 years old, the pandemic began. Instead of going to school, playing soccer, and getting my driver's license, I was trapped in my house, taking online classes, and feeling myself slipping into depression. I thought about all the times my brother tried to explain his addiction away as a coping mechanism. I often wondered if it worked. If that was the answer to the way that I was feeling. I remember when people started meeting in person again, and I was finally able to go to a friend's house. Her mother asked me what I had planned for after the pandemic, when school resumed, and I began to get back to normalcy. I told her I had no plan and no motivation. I felt lost and lonely from both my brother and the pandemic. She took this as an opportunity to encourage me. To help me find tutoring to fix my grades, signed me up for the ACT, encouraged me to apply for scholarships and colleges. She saw the potential in me that I often think people overlooked in my brother. I decided not to allow the impacts of addiction to define my future but instead to build something better for myself. I am now proud to say I am a first-generation student, pursuing a dual degree, and my brother is now proudly 2 and a half years sober.