“You cannot pour from an empty cup.” I’ve always taken pride in supporting others whenever needed. However, I was always burning the candle at both ends, working long days, taking extra shifts, staying after classes to tutor others, and always leaving my phone on in case a friend was in crisis. I thought I was doing everyone a service, and maybe in a way, I was. It made me feel like my existence mattered, but what I didn’t know was that my actions were insidiously taking a toll on me. In 2018 everything came to a crux. My overachieving self thought my unreasonable schedule was sustainable, and spoiler alert, it wasn’t. On top of that, I was also struggling with deteriorating mental health. I was not attending to my needs, and as a result, many self-destructive coping mechanisms returned. I was hospitalised three times in four months due to two suicide attempts, one so severe I was in the ICU for three days. I eventually began a PHP and it was there that I learned the empty cup metaphor. Since 2018, I’ve witnessed that it’s only when your cup is full that you can truly help others. It’s just like the metaphor of the oxygen mask on planes. By taking care of your needs first, you’re making sure you have enough air so you can provide others assistance. Until that need is met, you cannot healthily help others. And now, as I begin my PhD program, I know I need to make sure I'm taking as best care of myself as I can. My cup might not be full right now, but I’m taking steps to ensure that one day it will be so I can live my value of helping others and continue creating a life worth living.

If I'm honest, I'm still in the closet to several members of my family. However, I wouldn't say it's because of any feelings of shame — if anything, it's the opposite. I'm proud to be LGBTQ+ because I get to honour that part of myself for me, to me, in a way unique to all other parts of my life, because as Nayyirah Waheed said, "I am mine before I am anyone else's." IG: _heyitsfei_

Oh wow, how does one even begin to describe the year 2020? It’s a year that started so innocuously, a beginning to a new decade just like any other. February 2020, I was a teacher-on-assignment (predominantly for middle schools) and finishing my preparations to move to South Korea to pursue higher education, teach English, and just get a fresh start and connect with my heritage. The day before I was set to fly to Seoul, the CDC and the Korean Ministry of Health and Welfare raised the international travel alert to level 4, the highest it can be. To say that the new report was a shock would be an understatement; how could I begin a life as an ex-pat in Korea during what might become a pandemic? I had to make a massive decision in the span of hours, one that ended up being more life-changing than I could ever imagine. I ultimately decided to stay here in California with my immediate family and hopefully “wait out the storm.” Like many others, I assumed that the virus would pass without much fanfare and that things like quarantine would last maybe 4-6 weeks, tops. But then...none of that happened. Parts of the world seemed to shut down, deep-seeded issues surrounding social justice surfaced; it was like Mother Nature and Father Time had just had enough with us and put us in some sort of time-out to learn a lesson. The quarantining and social distancing soon became a new norm for our country and the world as a whole, and we all learned to adjust and adapt to our new circumstances. I know I cannot speak for others, but I wholeheartedly believe that 2020 was my year of revelation. As I mentioned earlier, I work as a teacher-on-assignment, and when the 2020 fall semester approached, it was filled with more chaos than one could ever imagine. Students, teachers, and parents alike were now in a world where they had to manage learning in a virtual setting. As an educator, I found myself in a position to be able to help students who were struggling with this means of schooling, whether it be about academics or healthy socialisation during quarantine. Since remote learning began last semester, I have been teaching in various ways, including entirely remotely, entirely in-person, and even hybrid classes. I’ve seen first-hand how this pandemic has affected the mental health and emotional well being of these students, and I have seen how the year 2020 will be incredibly formative in their lives. When the schools in my district finally reopened for full-time in-person learning, the students were so ecstatic to be back on campus. They would always joke with me that they never thought they’d be saying they’re excited to go to school, but that’s what their reality had become. I witnessed just how vital their friend networks and support systems were and how crucial they were to help them navigate this world of quarantine and the journey of adolescence. Seeing my students e so excited to be back in a physical classroom, not just for socialisation but to learn in a hands-on environment, brings such a feeling of joy and hope that these kids I have an extensive background in psychology, both from an educational and a personals standpoint, and I have seen how I can use my education and my personal experience to help these students help themselves. I’ve had my fair share of mental health struggles, that’s for sure. I’ve been hospitalised before, I see therapists, I take medication — and that’s all ok. It’s helped me get through this pandemic, and I hope to let kids know that it’s ok if they do the same. I’m now beginning my journey to earn my PhD in clinical health psychology from Yeshiva University’s Ferkauf Graduate School of Psychology. I hope that I might one day be able to help students like the ones I’ve had so that they’ll be able to be well-adjusted and have the skills they need to live a life that sings to their soul. The year 2020 has been quite a doozy for all of us, but it’s opened the opportunity for me to pursue further education in a field that I love so that I might one day be able to help others navigate hurdles they might face in their lives. Above all else, this year has shown me that I am strong and resilient and that I have the skills to create a life that’s true to my heart, a life that will also allow me to help others do the same so that, god forbid another 2020 happens, they’ll beagle to emerge from the ashes like a phoenix, stronger, wiser, and more beautiful than ever.

I took these pictures on 3/19/2018, in the back of an ambulance while being transported from SR Regional's ICU to UCSF’s Langley Porter Psychiatric Institute on a 5150. I'd attempted suicide two days prior, an attempt so serious it required an ICU stay. Admittedly, it wasn’t the first time I'd made an attempt, nor was it the first time I'd be 5150'd. What I didn’t know was that this stay would mark the beginning of a new chapter in my life, one that would encourage me to live my life's value of using my story to help others help themselves.