Mental health disorders are an often overlooked and underfunded disability status that many people suffer with all over the globe. I never expected to be diagnosed with a mental disorder, but once I was, I saw how this disability shaped my life from an early age. As a child, I suffered from intense fears of abandonment, which escalated into Generalized Anxiety Disorder. In kindergarten, my anxiety at school got so bad that a teacher told my parents I was "manipulative" and my withdrawn behavior was related to wanting attention. It wasn't until later in life that I gained the knowledge to articulate what I was going through. I wasn't manipulative and looking for attention; I was scared and looking for security. As an adopted child, when my parents dropped me off at school, I feared they would not return. In Highschool, my anxiety displayed itself mainly as social anxiety. I had trouble talking to people, and it was incredibly intense in larger gatherings. I used to hide in bathrooms to avoid having to make conversation. However, I longed for the freedom and deep friendships that I saw other children making. Instead of being told that I was "manipulative," this time, I was told that I was shy and introverted. In reality, I am highly extroverted, outgoing, and thoroughly enjoy making new friends. However, once you're labeled as one thing, it tends to stick. It wasn't until I was 21 that I realized my struggles with mental health had been a lifelong journey. I decided to seek professional counseling initially to help me cope with my mom's brain cancer diagnosis. However, counseling quickly evolved beyond my expectations. As I uncovered childhood trauma, abuse, and my struggles with Generalized Anxiety Disorder, I started to understand myself for the first time. This experience became a lifeline and ultimately played a role in helping save my life in 2017. After a series of losses, I developed Major Depressive Disorder and Panic Disorder. Even though I had a strong understanding of mental health disorders, I did not recognize the initial symptoms. I thought my panic symptoms were medical-related health concerns and ended up in the ER several times. Unfortunately, I was turned away. This poor treatment only exacerbated my mental health issues. I knew I was struggling, but I thought I was doing okay as I still made it out of bed each morning. Eventually, when I started to have suicidal thoughts, my husband and I realized that I had gotten out of bed each morning to only end up on the couch for several months. I was determined to fight for my mental health, however as I sought out professional health, I was made acutely aware of the large gap that exists between the medical field and the mental health field. While there is a vast array of evidence-based research showing models of integrated care as the best approach for long-term health outcomes, there is still a wide chasm that exists in real-world implementation. A long-term career goal of mine is to open an integrated care facility with other like-minded practitioners. I believe that each patient deserves the best treatment outcomes possible to advance their health and well-being from medical care to counseling. Fortunately, I found help from both a well-educated psychiatrist and a licensed mental health provider. Both of these people invested in my healthcare from an integrated care perspective and treated me as a whole person. Slowly but surely, I found healing. Through counseling, I gained emotional intelligence that could never be taught in a classroom. I also developed unshakable perseverance and determination to fight for my dreams and the dreams of others. Counseling became a transformative experience that birthed empathy, compassion, and an intense desire to help others find healing and recovery. At the age of 30, I went back to school to finish my bachelor's degree in Behavioral Healthcare with the ultimate goal of becoming a Licensed Mental Health Counselor. Recovery from mental health disorders is possible, but it is a lifelong journey that requires thorough understanding, proper quality care, and perseverance. My experience is both an example of how a lack of knowledge can hinder an individual with a disability and how, with the proper attention and care, those with disabilities can thrive. My goal is to have a dynamic practice that advances the field of mental health, focusing on recovery and integrated care, with an emphasis on where I believe quality care is currently lacking. I want to bridge the gap between medical and mental health care in order to provide patients with better treatment-related outcomes. As I have now been accepted into Vanderbilt University's master's program for Human Development Studies, I require funds to continue my education. Once I graduate, I intend on helping organizations understand the damaging effects that labeling individuals can bring. I want to eliminate the need for thought processes such as, 'should I write that I had suicidal thoughts in this essay - what if that comes back and stigmatizes me to the point where I am unable to get the help I need in the future? I am determined to advocate for the rights of those with disabilities such as mental health disorders so that they can live a life unhindered and to the fullest. Change is needed within this industry, and it will not happen without tenacious individuals who are determined to see better quality care given across all fields of related healthcare practices.

Tragedy has a way of showing you what's most important in life. For me, what's most important is the relationships I have with those I love. Much like Cat, I learned this lesson through pain, grief, and loss, most notably when my mom was diagnosed with Brain Cancer and the recent death of my best friend and cousin Cyndee. My mom was diagnosed with Grade III Brain Cancer (Oliodendroglioma) when I was 21. I went from a carefree college student to a caregiver overnight. My story looks different than Cats, as my mom is still living; however, that doesn't negate the amount of loss we endured through her treatment. What cancer fails to tell you is just how much secondary loss comes along with it. I had to grieve the loss of my mother in different ways that did not include death. Due to the nature of her cancer, her speech, social interactions, and motor skills were impaired, which resulted in a new normal for her and my family. I lost a more carefree outlook on life. I became hyper-vigilant, always looking for the next life-altering disaster. Emotionally I was drained, and I lost the ability to continue in school, as full-time caregiving proved to be too much. As I reenrolled in school this past year, my best friend Cyndee was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer. Cyndee was only 26 years old when she was diagnosed. She was newly engaged and full of hopes and dreams that would never come to pass. She began treatment, had two surgeries, and managed to have the wedding of her dreams in the process. However, two months after her wedding day, her husband Brandon was diagnosed with stage 4 Esophageal Cancer. On the day of Brandon's diagnosis, I felt as if we were being tricked. Someone must have been pulling a very cruel prank as there was no possible way both of them could be so young and fighting for their life. Unfortunately, it wasn't a cruel joke but a very devastating reality. Brandon passed away first, and six months later, Cyndee followed. Walking alongside Cyndee as she buried her husband and knew she would not be far behind him forever changed my life. I grieved with her at the loss of her beloved, I wept with her as she mourned the children she would never have, and I suffered with her over the reality that her time would be cut much too short. The most important thing I learned was to show up and keep showing for those you love. To show up in grief next to those you love without trying to solve it or make it disappear is difficult. I was determined to be with Cyndee until the very end, even at times when it was so painful that I didn't want to be present. After so much loss, I knew I couldn't handle all that I was going through alone. I decided to seek out professional help in the form of counseling. I found support and gained tools that helped me process my trauma from all of the loss, but I also learned to help those in need. I used much of what I learned to offer Cyndee emotional support, and in the end, I believe this helped her process her final moments. One thing that I believe the medical field could use more of is emotional support for not only the patients but also for the caregivers. Physical illness and mental illness are intricately intertwined, and both need to be given adequate care. This past year, at the age of 30, I graduated with my bachelor's degree in Behavioral Healthcare. I chose to go back to school to become a mental health counselor to help others like me navigate the complexities of grief. However, I need a master's degree to become licensed. With a grief specialization, I intend to help support caregivers, patients, and families. I am determined to make death less taboo so that more people have the opportunity to fight for what they want out of life while they still have the chance. If I am awarded your scholarship, I can assure you that I will work towards a future where caregivers and families are better supported through loss. Tragedy, while devastating, does not have to have the final word. I, much like Cat, hope to be a living example of that to others. When all is lost and hope has drifted out to sea far beyond sight, never fear, for it will one day find its way back to you. If not today or tomorrow - eventually - hope will come again, and you will again feel the warmth of the sun even as it holds hands with the shadow of death.