You feel most alive when you experience death. Nothing compares to the surreal feeling after a loved one dies, perception of time and emotions forever changed. The summer of 2019, my older sister Elli committed suicide. I was home when she did it. I remember my legs couldn't support my weight and wouldn’t listen to my mind's commands. At the same time, I couldn't catch my breath or speak. I felt as if I was trying to catch my breath after running, except I did not cool down, instead I was spiraling into more disarray. I specifically remember my dad asking me questions, and how the words coming out of his mouth were not understanding. My replies were worse, muddled by my hyperventilation, I kept repeating breaking. I never felt so hopeless. Elli was the liveliest person I know. She was a popular, honor-roll, athlete who had recently graduated from 8th grade and excited to attend high school. Her future plans included college and a career. So, Elli passing the way she did only intensified the grief me and my family experienced. The months that followed, I was miserable. I felt like I was on autopilot, going through the motions of life. I was going through a depression. In one instance, I was practicing volleyball in my backyard, and I suddenly was overcome with emotions. At that moment all I could do was breakdown. It was to the point that I could not cry anymore, but instead felt physical ache of my heart. I was so hurt, that I was not limited to just emotional pain. Nothing is more frustrating than being stuck in a mood and the one person that can help you is gone. Even though I was experiencing intense emotions, I was tired of not being okay and sad all the time. I decided I would try to be happy. I had let me feel happiness. When I first started to go back to school, I had to remind myself it is ok to be excited and happy for new things to come. Time doesn't stop for anyone. I realized that even though my sister had passed away, my happiness did not have to die with her. From that point forward, each day is a gift. Another day to be kinder, smarter, healthier, and happier. Basically, I strived for a YOLO mentality. You only live once, and the life you have truly is too precious to be daunting over the past. As I improve and try to live my life, I notice others doing the same. I’m not alone. I discovered anew happiness, when I help others. When I first learned about Speech-Language Pathology, I felt a sense belonging. All my experiences led me to my career. When I went on a self-journey to rekindle my appreciation for life, I want to help others improve their quality of life. To help others regain their voice, and not have to come close to what I had to experience.

“Bang”. June 5th, 2019 - Summer barely started. I was fresh out of 6th grade, and my sister - Elliandra - just had her 8th-grade graduation the week before. Even though my sister had the most promising future out of all my 8 siblings, her life ended earlier than expected. She was the rock of the family. She made everyone laugh and was there when someone needed a shoulder to cry on. More specifically; she was my bully, best friend, personal therapist, and mediator between me and our younger sister. So when she committed suicide by shooting a bullet through her head, it altered how I continued to live my life as well as my outlook on all things important and insignificant. How I viewed my relationships, hobbies, interests, and daily routine was more exhausting. All this including existential dread, made it hard to strive for higher long-term goals. This greatly affected my affinity for academics. I combatted this by taking challenges along with life day by day. Welcoming the feelings of grief and all emotions that accompanied, rather than reject and repress - only to come rushing back profusely stronger. Having to come to the harsh realization that even though her life ended, mine did not. So not put effort towards my grades and extracurriculars is equivalent to ultimately limiting my success in the future. More importantly, my older sister would not have wanted me to suffer because of her passing - rather she would want me to reach my goals and be satisfied with all my achievements. To those who are greatly affected by a loved one who committed suicide, everyone is different. Although a lot of people are skeptical of therapists, they are professionals who can help prevent destructive behavior. Through personal experience; there are always questions with no answers, trailing thoughts, doubt, self-reflection, self-blame, aggression to self and others, and many more. It is hard to navigate those conflicting feelings. A therapist is someone who is an outsider looking in, only to help make sense of your journey of grief. Another piece of advice that I have personally done for comfort, write letters to the loved one who committed suicide. My therapist said that this was a healthy way to cope, and also commented that somehow they will get the message. It's comforting that I have a way to communicate with my older sister, even if she isn't here with me physically. Just because she is gone does not mean she is not involved with my life anymore. I take her with me wherever I go - whatever I do. One of the hardest things to come to terms with is acceptance and healing. With time, eventually, the pain will be less frequent and grim. It will get easier to smile, laugh, and do mundane tasks. Till one day you realize the hurt you felt before barely affects you. Doesn't mean it's gone forever, grief and sadness come in waves. As time passes those waves are more calm and infrequent. However there is guilt to healing; just because you have found peace in their passing, doesn't mean you love or care for them any less. It's been four years since my older sister passed. I miss her greatly, and I still love her so much. I still have some of the baggage that came with her death. But I also have a memory of her and how she was as a person. Suicide doesn't define her and her memory, so I won't let it dictate my life and my happiness.

You feel most alive when you experience death. Nothing compares to the surreal feeling after a loved one dies, perception of time and emotions forever changed. The summer of 2019, my older sister Elli committed suicide. I was home when she did it. I remember my legs couldn't support my weight and wouldn’t listen to my mind's commands. At the same time, I couldn't catch my breath or speak. I felt as if I was trying to catch my breath after running, except I did not cool down, instead I was spiraling into more disarray. I specifically remember my dad asking me questions, and how the words coming out of his mouth were not understanding. My replies were worse, muddled by my hyperventilation, I kept repeating breaking. I never felt so hopeless. Elli was the liveliest person I know. She was a popular, honor-roll, athlete who had recently graduated from 8th grade and excited to attend high school. Her future plans included college and a career. So, Elli passing the way she did only intensified the grief me and my family experienced. The months that followed, I was miserable. I felt like I was on autopilot, going through the motions of life. I was going through a depression. In one instance, I was practicing volleyball in my backyard, and I suddenly was overcome with emotions. At that moment all I could do was breakdown. It was to the point that I could not cry anymore, but instead felt physical ache of my heart. I was so hurt, that I was not limited to just emotional pain. Nothing is more frustrating than being stuck in a mood and the one person that can help you is gone.  Even though I was experiencing intense emotions, I was tired of not being okay and sad all the time. I decided I would try to be happy. I had let me feel happiness. When I first started to go back to school, I had to remind myself it is ok to be excited and happy for new things to come. Time doesn't stop for anyone. I realized that even though my sister had passed away, my happiness did not have to die with her. From that point forward, each day is a gift. Another day to be kinder, smarter, healthier, and happier. Basically, I strived for a YOLO mentality. You only live once, and the life you have truly is too precious to be daunting over the past. As I improve and try to live my life, I notice others doing the same. I’m not alone. I discovered anew happiness, when I help others. When I first learned about Speech-Language Pathology, I felt a sense belonging. All my experiences led me to my career. When I went on a self-journey to rekindle my appreciation for life, I want to help others improve their quality of life. To help others regain their voice, and not have to come close to what I had to experience.

Growing up, I felt like a tom-boy. I didn't understand how being a girl defines and limits my scope in the world. However, I learn that being a girl is a gift. My parents always taught me and my siblings that there are no "girls and boy chores." They weren't trying to break gender norms, instead my parents just wanted to make sure all the shores were done. Still, it always stuck to me that there is no real distinction between a boy and girls' responsibilities. I even grew up not understanding the difference in strength between boys and girls. My mindset was that a person is as strong as they try to be, and to not limit yourself. As I age and become more independent, those values still are a core belief of mine. Before my Freshman year of high school, my counselor went over the options for an elective class, in which the class "Material Technology" peaked my interest. The class was basically a carpentry and shop class. My counselor tried to discourage me from the class simple because "its filled with boys and you would be the only girl." This made me want to join the class even more. I really understood what it meant to be a women after this class. To the boys in the class, specially the teacher, I was just a girl. Whenever heavy lifting was involved, no one thought to ask me for help. If there was a question on previous knowledge or understanding of a building process, I was the last person to come to their minds. Even though they thought less of me because I was a girl ,I made sure to better as a girl. My projects were more innovative, as well as better overall presentation. While my classmates wore wrinkled button ups and a clip on tie; I wore a presentable blouse and skirt. I went above what was expected because I am a girl. With careful consideration, I decided I would like to attend University of Texas at Austin with a major of Communication and Science Disorders., so I can become a Speech-Language Pathologist (SLP). People are often surprised , since not many women go as far as graduate school and are satisfied to be just Speech Therapists. Despite what people think, I am committed to the career and advancements in my medical profession . Its not just me, most the women in my life are also well planned and goal-oriented. Where as the boys I know don't seem to have the drive like a women. When I ask a boy about future plans, they blank and make excuse. When I ask a girl about their future, the have details and back up plans/ From what i seen personally ,boys lack the ambition and discipline of a woman. With that on my mind, the world depends on women leaders; in office, hospitals, law, and everything else to keep Society running.

When I was 12, I faced the hardest obstacle of my life: losing my older sister Elli to suicide. I experienced immense grief, anxiety, and self-doubt. Despite the mental struggles, I was able to accept that grief and happiness can coexist. I realized the importance of allowing myself to feel my emotions while taking control of my own well-being. With my sister passing, I was drowning in grief, so much so that all I wanted was to be able to breathe. I eventually was diagnosed with PTSD, which was hard to acknowledge because I did not want to be 'broken'. However, the diagnosis was no surprise, since it overall was traumatic with what I witnessed the day of her suicide. I had a hard time going to sleep and staying asleep, especially without a light. In the back of my mind, I still couldn't accept that my sister passed; whenever I looked across the room to my sister's bed, it would still look like she was in bed sleeping, so I slept with the lights on to see that she was not there. I also felt trapped; for some reason, I felt a weight of responsibility since my older sister was gone; I was now the oldest sister. Elli was a multi-varsity sports honor student who had many friends. I was the average, overweight younger sister. I had big shoes to fill, and yet I just didn't want to disappoint anyone. This instilled a lack of confidence in myself, and I was unhappy with who I was. However, I was the oldest now, so I bottled up my feelings, not that I felt others would sympathize with my situation or care. I closed myself off to others and created a front, which made me seem like how I wished people would see me and not reveal how vulnerable I was. Self-isolation hurt, but I felt that I could not be seen as the pathetic sister. I just made myself sink deeper into grief. As time passed and my waves of grief were less turbulent, I could finally see the rainbow after the storm. Although I felt guilty for being "okay," I realized I couldn't stay miserable forever. I eventually grew tired of being sad and alone, but I did it for a long time, and I grew comfortable with my own mental struggles. Comfortable does not equate to healthy. I just got used to the pattern of self-sabotage. I wanted to get better. Time is the best medicine for grief, and as it passed, I figured out that I can be happy while being sad. Emotions are complex and should not be simplified so that they are less intimidating to face head-on. I also wanted to share my happiness and open up to family and friends again. Enough time was spent feeling sorry for myself; I needed to enjoy life. I needed to stop holding myself back from experiencing life because my sister ended hers. Without my struggle, I would be a completely different person today. I would not be as empathetic to others because I would not have realized the significance of not really knowing what another person goes through. I would have less passion for things since I would take for granted what a gift it is to experience life. My new outlook on life has changed me for the better. I make sure to make most of everyday and treasure them. Ellis' passing was difficult, but it shaped me into the person I am today. I carry her with me as I seize every moment for better.

Growing up in a big family with nine siblings, including three with autism and one with a double cleft lip and palate, has shaped how I support others. These personal experiences have not only influenced my daily life but also inspired me to become a Speech-Language Pathologist (SLP). In my home, as an older sibling I helped with the little kids. I remember taking care of my baby sister who had a cleft lip and palate, trying different ways to help with speech and feeding. Especially after reconstruction surgeries, when her mouth felt unfamiliar and out of control. I saw how minor changes helped them basically rediscover her mouth, and this taught me how important it is to offer extra support. Living with siblings who have autism showed me the importance of understanding the unique ways people communicate. I learned to use visual aids and their special interests to be able to connect with them. Slowly, they too with communicate with words as well. These experiences made me come to the realization that that communication is more than just talking; it’s about truly understanding and responding to people’s needs. Every day, these skills make me a better friend and family member. Whether it’s assisting with homework or just being a good listener, I like to support others however I know how to. It’s rewarding to see how my support can make a difference in their lives. For when I become an SLP, I am ready to use my past to help others. I want to create a caring environment where people feel understood and can improve their communication skills. My background has shown me how critical it is to provide support made specifically to each person’s needs, and I am excited to use this in future career. In short, growing up with siblings who needed extra support has moved me to become an SLP. I am passionate about helping others find their voice and achieve their communication or feeding goals to improve an individuals quality of life.

When I was 12, I faced the hardest obstacle of my life: losing my older sister Elli to suicide. I experienced immense grief, anxiety, and self-doubt. Despite the mental struggles, I was able to accept that grief and happiness can coexist. I realized the importance of allowing myself to feel my emotions while taking control of my own well-being. With my sister passing, I was drowning in grief, so much so that all I wanted was to be able to breathe. I eventually was diagnosed with PTSD, which was hard to acknowledge because I did not want to be 'broken'. However, the diagnosis was no surprise, since it overall was traumatic with what I witnessed the day of her suicide. I had a hard time going to sleep and staying asleep, especially without a light. In the back of my mind, I still couldn't accept that my sister passed; whenever I looked across the room to my sister's bed, it would still look like she was in bed sleeping, so I slept with the lights on to see that she was not there. I also felt trapped; for some reason, I felt a weight of responsibility since my older sister was gone; I was now the oldest sister. Elli was a multi-varsity sports honor student who had many friends. I was the average, overweight younger sister. I had big shoes to fill, and yet I just didn't want to disappoint anyone. This instilled a lack of confidence in myself, and I was unhappy with who I was. However, I was the oldest now, so I bottled up my feelings, not that I felt others would sympathize with my situation or care. I closed myself off to others and created a front, which made me seem like how I wished people would see me and not reveal how vulnerable I was. Self-isolation hurt, but I felt that I could not be seen as the pathetic sister. I just made myself sink deeper into grief. As time passed and my waves of grief were less turbulent, I could finally see the rainbow after the storm. Although I felt guilty for being "okay,"  I realized I couldn't stay miserable forever. I eventually grew tired of being sad and alone, but I did it for a long time, and I grew comfortable with my own mental struggles. Comfortable does not equate to healthy. I just got used to the pattern of self-sabotage. I wanted to get better. Time is the best medicine for grief, and as it passed, I figured out that I can be happy while being sad. Emotions are complex and should not be simplified so that they are less intimidating to face head-on. I also wanted to share my happiness and open up to family and friends again. Enough time was spent feeling sorry for myself; I needed to enjoy life. I needed to stop holding myself back from experiencing life because my sister ended hers. Without my struggle, I would be a completely different person today. I would not be as empathetic to others because I would not have realized the significance of not really knowing what another person goes through. I would have less passion for things since I would take for granted what a gift it is to experience life. My new outlook on life has changed me for the better. I make sure to make most of everyday and treasure them. Ellis' passing was difficult, but it shaped me into the person I am today. I carry her with me as I seize every moment for better.

Once my sister passed, I truly learned and started to experience what it means to live. My older sister committed suicide early June 2019. She passed before she could experience high school and among many other things that she will miss out on since she committed suicide. My older sister was the closest person to me, so when she committed suicide my world and what I would have known as normalcy shattered. The absence that I felt was so consuming that each second was a chore, and my future was hard to envision. I left lost. Not only did I feel grief, but I felt guilty. How could someone feel survivors' guilt, when it wasn't a huge chaotropic event? It felt chaotropic to me and my family at least. I felt as if I did not deserve my life, and I wish I could have switched with her. Later I was diagnosed with PTSD, even though I have real issues myself, I would dismiss them since I wasn't the one who committed suicide. Somehow, I developed a habit of disregarding my struggles because I would always compare it to the extreme of suicide. It is easy to forget to worry about the details in life when you experience the extremes. Suicide seemed to consume my thoughts, not meaning that I would do it, but just how my thoughts were distorted and oblivious how death is not healthy to scrutinize. Along with grief, forever washing over me. It would come in waves, when the waves were big, I felt like drowning. However, the grief that I felt was an ironic reminder that I was alive, and she wasn't. Despite the suffocating anguish that occupied my thoughts and surroundings, I was given a new outlook on life. My life did not end when my sister died, even though it felt like it did. The earth's rotation does not stop for anyone. With every day that past, I would heal. Time was the only effective medicine to the heartache. So, I came to a realization; I can either let life past me by, or I can take each day as an opportunity to make it better than the last. I am not only living for myself, but I am living so I can experience what my sister couldn't. Essentially, I am living by a 'YOLO' lifestyle, because you really do only live once. Since I felt less clouded with misery, I noticed those around me. I decided to reach out and fill my life with tenderness once again, because I was not replacing my sister or forgetting; I just wanted to stop punishing myself with isolation. My sisters passing was my lowest point, but all I could do was go up from there.

“Bang”. June 5th, 2019 - Summer barely started. I was fresh out of 6th grade, and my sister - Elliandra - just had her 8th-grade graduation the week before. Even though my sister had the most promising future out of all my 8 siblings, her life ended earlier than expected. She was the rock of the family. She made everyone laugh and was there when someone needed a shoulder to cry on. More specifically; she was my bully, best friend, personal therapist, and mediator between me and our younger sister. So when she committed suicide by shooting a bullet through her head, it altered how I continued to live my life as well as my outlook on all things important and insignificant. How I viewed my relationships, hobbies, interests, and daily routine was more exhausting. All this including existential dread, made it hard to strive for higher long-term goals. This greatly affected my affinity for academics. I combatted this by taking challenges along with life day by day. Welcoming the feelings of grief and all emotions that accompanied, rather than reject and repress - only to come rushing back profusely stronger. Having to come to the harsh realization that even though her life ended, mine did not. So to not put effort towards my grades and extracurriculars is equivalent to ultimately limiting my success in the future. More importantly, my older sister would not have wanted me to suffer because of her passing - rather she would want me to reach my goals and be satisfied with all my achievements. To those who are greatly affected by a loved one that committed suicide, everyone is different. Although a lot of people are skeptical of therapists, they are professionals that can help prevent destructive behavior. Through personal experience; there are always questions with no answers, trailing thoughts, doubt, self-reflection, self-blame, aggression to self and others, and many more. It is hard to navigate those conflicting feelings. A therapist is someone that is an outsider looking in, only to help make sense of your journey of grief. Another piece of advice that I have personally done for comfort, write letters to the loved one that committed suicide. My therapist said that this was a healthy way to cope, and also commented that somehow they will get the message. It's comforting that I have a way to communicate with my older sister, even if she isn't here with me physically. Just because she is gone does not mean she is not involved with my life anymore. I take her with me where ever I go - whatever I do. One of the hardest things to come to terms with is acceptance and healing. With time, eventually, the pain will be less frequent and grim. It will get easier to smile, laugh, and do mundane tasks. Till one day you realize the hurt you felt before barely affects you. Doesn't mean it's gone forever, grief and sadness come in waves. As time passes those waves are more calm and infrequent. However there is guilt to healing; just because you have found peace in their passing, doesn't mean you love or care for them any less. It's been four years since my older sister passed. I miss her greatly, and I still love her so much. I still have some of the baggage that came with her death. But I also have the memory of her and how she was as a person. Suicide doesn't define her and her memory, so I won't let it dictate my life and my happiness.