My earliest memory as a child is shockingly pretty vivid. I was still living with my parents in our small little apartment in a terrible neighborhood. I remember my parents screaming at each other in the kitchen and me trying to diffuse the fight by throwing a glass cup at my father. I was maybe about three or four when this occurred, and a few months after I was taken from my parents by my grandparents who deemed my mother "unfit" to raise a child at such a young age. Looking back, I am beyond happy that this event had occurred. Growing up in my grandparent's house, a great deal of academic pressure was placed on me. A lot of my family members never received a college degree, and my grandparents were determined to change that. They had placed me in whatever school they felt I would do well in, including a catholic school that costs a small fortune to attend. However, even though I was doing well in most of my classes, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I had entered college as a Neuroscience major. I had convinced myself that I wanted to be a Pediatric neurologist, even though deep down I still didn't know what I wanted out of life. My best friend had been going through something similar, her family had pressured her into going to nursing school rather than following her dream of becoming a writer or blogger. I had a front-row seat when she had informed her mother that she had switched her major to English. This had motivated me to change my own major. I had switched my major two other times until I had settled on Health Science and Psychology as my two majors and a minor in chemistry. I have become very interested in the field of pharmaceuticals. I currently work as a Pharmacy technician which deepened my interest in the field. I am also confident that I can give back to my community by working in this field. Living in a "ghetto" city, as some would call it, drugs are very accessible. I feel like the best way to combat substance abuse in my city is by informing others about what exactly they're pumping into their body. You could consider my Psychology degree as a little bit of a hobby. I have lost several family members to suicide, as well as being surrounded by those who are affected by mental illness. I remember reading a lot as a child, and most books had drilled into your head numerous ways to help those around you. I feel that I owe it to those who helped me get where I am and I feel like earning this degree will allow me to do that.

Anyone who knows me personally knows that I have a large tattoo on my left forearm. The tattoo reads "Thomas Edison's last words were 'It's very beautiful over there.' I don't know where there is, but I believe it's somewhere, and I hope it's beautiful.". The quote itself is actually from a book called "Looking for Alaska" by John Green. I know that John Green is known for cliche tragic romance novels but this book oddly relates to my life on a very personal level. This book was recommended by someone close to me when I was about fifteen. This was in fact her favorite book and swore that it was the best thing she had ever read. The first time I read it I found it to be very predictable, some girl ends her life and her friends wonder why. I actually tried reading it again to see if I could actually "get into" the story but I was unable to. This was until the same situation happened to me a month later. The person who had recommended the book had taken their own life and never even left a note. I was left completely in the dark, and clueless. Her mother had given me a box of her belongings that included an old shirt of mine that she had taken, some old pictures, a mug with our picture on it, and a copy of her "Looking for Alaska" book. The book had highlight and post-it notes all over it, marking particular quotes and pages. I felt that this was her way of telling me why she had chosen to leave us and honestly, I was content with that. I am proud to say I have both a memorial as well as a tattoo of my favorite book quote.

If you were to talk to some of my closest friends about my personality, they would probably say something about me being antisocial or quiet. The funny part? I was never "the quiet kid" until 2017. When I was younger, I had spent most of my time playing sports, drawing, hanging out with friends, etc. I always liked going out and having fun, staying up late, and doing who knows what. I particularly spent a lot of time with my cousin, Samantha, who I referred to as my best friend. She may have been related to me technically, but she was my closest friend. We had a strong bond as children, and not a whole lot had changed until we were about 15. We had drifted apart slight, but were still each others keepers. I had received a frantic phone call on a cold afternoon in January from Samantha's oldest brother, and that's when I had my personality makeover. She had been found dead in her bedroom by her youngest brother, it was determined to be a suicide. I don't have any interesting details of that day because I can barely remember. The only scene I remember is Samantha laying in a hospital bed with slight brusing on her face. Unfortunatly, it is a scene I remember quite vividly. After that day, I had become very quiet and distant. I tend to keep to myself and prefer to be alone rather than taking part in activities. Although there seems to be no silver lining in this story, I will say that I have grown as a person. I am more determined than ever to succeed in life as well as help others along the way.

I have always received compliments about different parts of my body upon entering college. The most common types are usually something about how blue my eyes are or how curvy my body is. Honestly, I have never really cared about how I look. One thing I admire about myself is my ability to persevere through any situation. I lost my best friend at a young age, I have been in a few toxic relationships/friendships, I have suffered from mental illness as well as physical illness, I helped pay my parent's bills when my dad had lost his job, and I have lost many family members. I have been in a lot of what I would call "make or break" situations where you either push through or lose yourself. I honestly don't have any type of heroic story on how I deal with these stressful situations, I just know that I always find a way to better myself from them. I remember reading a quote on a poster once that has stated "You grow through what you go through." and from personal experience, I can tell you that this quote is 100% true. We all are faced with tough situations, but sometimes the best thing to do is learn from these experiences.

I still remember sitting at my grandparent's table and watching my grandfather take out a plastic tub full of receipts, bills, and checks. I would watch him for hours sort through his fiances and write out checks to numerous companies. I have always been a very "money motivated" type of person. I remember doing a million chores around my grandparent's house just to scrounge up a few bucks. I learned the importance of money at a very young age since my parents didn't have much. My parents would work all hours of the day trying to keep up with bills and me, but I ultimately ended up moving in with my grandparents. The biggest financial lesson I learned was from my grandfather who had always told me to NEVER depend on anyone for money, which included my own family. I had learned to take care of myself financially at a young age because I refused to depend on my parents or grandparents. I pay for school on my own, I am a vehicle owner, I can afford any necessities I may need, and I can help my parents with bills when they need money. Although I didn't always have someone to lean on financially when I needed it as a child, I am grateful that I have learned to be financially dependent as a young adult.

I still remember the day I sent the infamous "Can I tell you something?" text to my best friend. I have always known that I have a strong preference for women when it comes to sexual interest. Does my family know? Of course not. Do all my friends know? Of course. I have always felt like I'm in the "grey area" of the LGBTQ community because I feel like I have two different personas. My family knows me as the straight college girl with a good head on her shoulders while my friends know me as the bisexual girl with tattoos and a love for science. I am not embarrassed by who I am by any means, my family just has the tendency to think that there is only straight or gay with no in-between. The issue? I am in-between. I have a boyfriend currently, who I am very much in love with, so my family would be quick to say that my love for women is a "phase", which it is not. I do not love my boyfriend for his gender, but for who he is as a person. He is also very aware that men are not typically my cup of tea and is very ok with that. The main reason I feel that I am in this "grey area" is that I feel that my family does not know my real persona which includes my sexuality. I feel that when I reach my career goal of becoming a successful pharmacist, my sexuality will stand no chance against my degree. Everyone in my family will recognize me as "the pharmacist" rather than the "girl who likes girls". I am proud of who I am, sexuality and all, and I hope that my family is too regardless of their doubts or beliefs.

When it comes to substance abuse, I feel that people are very quick to judge. I'm sure many of us have heard of the terms "junkie" and "crackhead" or something along those lines. I live in a low-income city where drugs are easily accessible, so substance abuse is a common issue. I also happen to work in a pharmacy as a technician, where we fill prescribed narcotics dozens of times a day. One of the most common questions I get when a patient is picking up a narcotic is "Will I become addicted?" and my answer is supposed to be "no" but in all honesty, I am not sure. All of our bodies react differently when it comes to taking an addictive substance so, in my opinion, there is no real way to know until you take the medication for a long period. Addiction happens to run pretty strong in my family, so when I am offered any type of addictive medication, my answer is always a hard "no". Addiction makes me so nervous that when I was hospitalized for days with a severe kidney infection, I survived on only a low dose of Tylenol rather than the recommended Percoset. Although we tend to link illegal drugs with those who have substance abuse issues, the truth is addiction can easily be caused by a prescription you pick up at your local pharmacy. I have always had an interest in pharmaceuticals, which has motivated me to pursue a career in pharmacy but I also love the idea of helping those with substance abuse issues. I feel like the best way to prevent addiction is to educate those who are taking said drugs. I feel that becoming a Pharmacist would allow me to effectively educate those who are unaware about the possible side effects of these medications as well as the possibility of addiction. If addiction were to happen, I would hope that my patients are comfortable enough to ask what routes they can take to get the help they need. To make sure that my patients are comfortable asking for help, I would make sure to establish a bond with everyone coming to the pharmacy as well as a sense of trust. If a patient was struggling with addiction, I would most likely suggest a support group or rehab and eventually be put on some type of M.A.T drug such as Suboxone to help them recover. Addiction may be devastating, but there are always options. I feel that the first step in avoiding addiction is educating yourself on what medication you are taking and how it affects your body. With the proper information, you can avoid becoming addicted to prescribed medications.

When it comes to mental health, the name of my game has always been a distraction. My distraction happened to be working 40+ hours a week in high school. One of my motivations was helping my parents pay bills but my main motivation was distracting myself from the fact that my best friend had ended her own life at the age of 15. If I could do anything in the world to prevent someone from meeting the same fate, I would want them to stand in the hospital room and see my best friend lifeless in that hospital bed while her parents sobbed at the bedside. I would show them what death really looks like, and how it destroys families. After that day, I no longer remember my best friend as a cheery, motivated young woman but I do remember her as lifeless, with bruises along her neck and face. Back to reality now, I would want someone with mental illness to recognize the joys of life. I know that's kind of cliche, but I feel like that is an essential step in someone bettering their mental health. People have the tendency to overlook simple things when they are experiencing mental health issues. When I say "simple things" I mean the little things we enjoy like the feeling of the sun on our faces on a spring morning or a cup of coffee on a Sunday. If we allow mental health issues to devour us and push us to the brink of suicide, all those simple joys of life disappear as well. Although it may seem small, I think a good base for bettering ourselves mentally is to simply remind ourselves of the little things in life that we enjoy and go from there.

One technology that I have recently found to be inspiring isn't anything fancy. I have found a new appreciation for faxing. I know that faxing has been around since the 1960s, but I have never used it until I started my new job last fall. I am currently a pharmacy technician at a local C.V.S Pharmacy and one of the most common activities I do on a day-to-day basis is faxing. In a typical nine-hour shift, I probably fax over fifty doctors for patients. Now some may not initially see why this is so important but for some patients, these faxes are essential. When a patient has an expired prescription and has no remaining refills on a medication, we contact the doctor by faxing their office. This may seem outdated to many individuals, but in my experience, it has proved to be very efficient. For the most part, doctors respond in 1-2 days when a patient is in need. The reason I find this so fascinating is I would not realize the importance of an old fax machine if I had not started working here. When patients take life-saving medications such as penicillin, epinephrine, and so on, this old fax machine quickly becomes essential. The most common question I get is something along the lines of "Why not just call the doctor?". Calling a doctor's office is like buying a car, it's an extremely long and time-consuming process. This time-consuming process hinders techs and pharmacists from helping others and filling prescriptions. With a fax, a doctor's office gets a request almost instantly and I can send one with the click of a button on a computer. When we think of "life-changing" technology, a fax machine may not come to mind at first, but in my opinion, it is much needed in the medical field.

I will be the first to admit that working a full-time job in high school is not ideal. I have always been what you would call a "nerd". I like to read comics, manga, horror novels, thrillers, etc. If you take a step into my bedroom, it's pretty obvious. However, one thing that was never really as obvious is that I have been working since I was 15. I live in a poor city, in a poor, area, with a poor family. I feel like everyone has heard that sob story before, but this time this isn't exactly a sob story. Although I hate the smell of grease, I worked two jobs my freshman year of college until January of this year. I was pulling 45-55 hours a week while taking 15-17 credits of difficult classes. This spring semester is the first time in my college career that I am only working one job. To most people I know, anything over 30 hours a week in college is crazy but 45-55 hours between two jobs? Suicide. The first question I normally get is something about if I'm tired which the answer is yes, very. The second question is usually "why?". I pay for a decent portion of my education out of pocket. Right now, for me to sit in a classroom for a few hours a day is about $800 a month. That sounds like a rent payment. I also help my parents pay their bills. The actual amount of bills I pay varies on how much my parents fall short each month. I also have a car that requires gas, which is now almost $4.00 a gallon as I type this short essay out. What does any of this have to do with my education? A lot. Working towards my education has taught me that in this world we live in that nothing comes easy. Although for the most working an extensive amount of hours while in school, it teaches you a lot. I appreciate my education much more than a friend of mine who is failing three classes but is ok with that because her father pays her tuition. My education has taught me that to get where you want in life, you need to work hard for it. I have never had the luxury of having anything handed to me on a silver platter, and my college education is no exception. My average day usually begins around 6:30-7:00 am and ends at about 1:00-2:00 am. Most of that day is either work or study. This long day has caused me to look at others with good careers and wonder if they had a similar experience in college or trade school as I am currently having. I also often wonder if this is all worth it. So far, that answer is yes. This experience has caused me to have more respect those who have also had to strive and work extra hard to get where they are in life, and I hope to be one of those people as well in the future.

Have you ever heard someone say something along the lines of "those types of things always happen to someone else" when referring to some type of terrible accident or situation? Well, I was that "someone else". Twice. I grew up in my grandparent's house for most of my life with four of my cousins living a few houses down so it's safe to say that I always had a playmate. I was extremely close with my cousin Samantha in particular and when I say close, I mean she practically was glued to my hip. I had spent the first sixteen years of my life either talking on the phone with her, sleeping over, or doing all sorts of crazy things. When I had turned sixteen we had begun to drift apart. One summer, I went on a vacation with four of my cousins from down south. The vacation was fun, but Samantha seemed to grow a little jealous that I was hanging out with two of my other cousins, Jack and Nick, in another state rather than being home with her. This quickly blew over when she had "fell in love" with a boy named Michael weeks later. I will be honest, I hated him from the start. He had not only put a wedge between my best friend and me, but he was also manipulative. Our texts became few and far between over the next several months. As she continued seeing her boyfriend, it was obvious her mental health had been on the decline. I was lost, how did I come to barely know my best friend within only a few months? On New Year's Day of 2017, I had attended a New Years' party that her mother had put together. This was the first time we had hung out in person in months. She seemed good, which I was happy about of course. I figured she had pulled herself out of her depressive slump and somehow gotten better with her new medication. Turns out, I was very wrong. On January 22nd, 2017 I had received a phone call that Samatha had taken her own life. About a year later? I received a call that my cousin Nick had also taken his life. In the years of 2017-2019, I wasn't living, I was surviving. Within those two years, my mental health had taken a huge blow. However, at some point, I don't exactly remember when I had used this sorrow to fuel myself. With the help of my family and my group therapy, I began to receive good grades and was on track for college once again. I honestly don't have some great story on how I did it, but my mom says that I tend to work myself through pain, literally. I was working 40-45 hours a week as a high school student. I was attending a group therapy session full of others who have been affected by suicide, I was the youngest one there by far. Ultimately I was accepted into many more colleges than expected, and for once I felt like the world was on my side. When I had entered college I had vowed to myself that I will somehow use my degree to help others avoid the same experiences I had. I plan to use my Psychology degree to help those who struggle with mental illness and my (hopefully) Pharm. D. degree to help with treatment options for those who need it. Although I haven't been dealt the best cards, I wouldn't change anything. It has made me who I am today.