Anxiety, for me, used to be a limitation Being diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder (also known as GAD) at a young age meant my life was hindered. A series of events led to the diagnosis, but the truth of the matter was clear: my own mind prevented me from accomplishing even the most simple of tasks. My family was very close with the neighbors a house over (I was best friends with their daughter), but the simple task of walking over, knocking on their door, and asking for permission to spend time with my friend was incredibly horrific in my mind. There was no issue whatsoever, but a mental block forbade me from doing what I wanted. This continued even outside of social situations. Going grocery shopping on Saturday mornings with my mom, returning a movie, or making phone calls for an appointment was difficult. Simple situations and activities I failed to complete. I was signed up for Therapy sessions, which I continued for 5 years. I was pubescent, trying to explain why I couldn't talk to my teacher about an assignment, or why I couldn't call my friend on the phone. It was excruciatingly painful, the hypothetical "what-if" always taunting me. I knew there was no real issue, no negative experience taken. However, the anxiety would always win. It was a battle, one where I had to fight to win. Eventually, with time and prescribed medication, I believed to have won the battle. I was more confident, more aggressive with my needs. The mental block faded more and more as I grew and developed. I was confident in stopping therapy at 17, right before my senior year of high school. I don't regret the time I spent in the office, the lessons have been a great help in my own battle to this day. I continued taking the medication, weaning off of it throughout the school year. I was attending a local community college, and I was excited about my future. During this time, my anxiety won the mental battle a few times, but I took each moment as a learning experience for the next opportunity. I felt like I was in a good place with my own mental struggles. A year and a half later, the anxiety returned in a vengeful fit. I had started a new job, and every day was nerve-wracking. I was required to work solo shifts at a small retail location, and I wasn't fully trained. The 'what-ifs' that anxiety brings had been slowly creeping up into my mind, and I tried to manage it to the best of my abilities, but it all came crashing down when I realized I was avoiding making a phone call. The anxiety had returned. Avoidance, mental blocks, and paranoia have plagued my life for far too long. Anxiety is manageable, with enough mental strength. It is not something I can be rid of, it is the plague I must live with. Pursuing a college degree is another step in winning the battle against my anxiety. I've done hard things, moving across the country, and working for a company I knew so little about while completing classes, yet continuing my education after transferring colleges will help me in personal accomplishment. This is another step I can take to win the battle.

In the final semester of my senior year of high school, I had no plans for my future. I was going to the local community college to decide my fate, whatever that may be, by taking classes of all calibers. It was an adventure, studying a new subject each quarter. Ranging from Statistics to Communication, Botany to English, the two years I spent at the community college allowed me to gain a new perspective on life; however, I had no drive for any subject to pursue. Then, in my final quarter, I registered for a Sociology class to fulfill an elective credit. To my surprise, I enjoyed the class, diving deep into Meghan Bohren et. al's Sociological Research on Healthcare. Each week, the class brought something exciting to my computer screen, and it was like something clicked. I had long pondered a future working in social services, debating back and forth between a public field or one with a corporate twist. However, now it felt natural to imagine my future studying Sociology, the divisions I could focus on, or the possible jobs my knowledge could apply to. I am passionate because it took time for me to find this path. Many of my friends have known their paths since high school, taking classes that align with healthcare or public education degrees. I've had to travel down different options, opportunities, and events for me to feel satisfied with my choice. The public can be difficult, and our personal contexts diversify life itself. With Sociology, I can aim to understand the public; and their reasons for crime or discrimination so abundantly clear. With this understanding, I can help them. Whatever job I find, the public service field calls my name. Though humans are difficult to understand, and even assist when the time draws, there is necessity in doing so. I've needed help in my life, my mother has needed help, and my friends as well; we all have experienced moments in life where assistance (of any kind) is needed and appreciated. With a career in Sociology, I can take the knowledge in my given field and use it to help. For example, I once volunteered at a Women's and Children's community kitchen and restaurant, where we accepted donations from local food banks, organizations, or private donations, and the kitchen staff created fresh, healthy, and free meals for women and their children to enjoy. There was also a curbside pickup where women could collect boxes of groceries and personal items. I spent a year volunteering for this nonprofit, and the joy I felt from helping was unmatched, only the satisfaction and pride when women accepted the food. Sociology aims to understand humans, but in the future applying my knowledge means using this understanding for a better tomorrow. With any pathway sociology offers, such as child development services, family counseling, nonprofit organization work (such as my volunteer work with women), education, and more, assistance towards others is vital. Helping others brings in the butterfly effect; what you do to help someone today, might benefit another in the future.