I always used to surround myself in the belief that a real man doesn't cry. It was a sign of weakness, and quite frankly, was pathetic. Me, and so many others believe that, and bottle everything up. I myself went through an extreme period of depression and anxiety, constantly fighting with the voices in my head that would tell me to man up.
There is much more background to this story. I was in the foster care system from 2-7, abused in every one of them until I ended up in the home that adopted me. During that time, I was faced with much adversity involving the fact that my "real parents" were not in the picture, not helped by the fact that I was constantly moving schools in the face of being rehomed. At birth, I was given the diagnosis of Cystic Fibrosis, and later on, Type 1 Diabetes. I also have ADHD, which caused me to follow through on a lot of my impulses and get in trouble daily at school, even after I was adopted. For these reasons, I was an embarrassment at school. I was seen as a "defect," a "reject." I had little to no friends, and constantly faced both verbal and physical bullying at school.
Eventually, I broke. In mid- 2024, I had my first suicide attempt. I woke up the next morning with a miracle, and no one ever knew about it until my second attempt in 2025, where when I survived that, I went off the rails and ended up being hospitalized. I bounced around from 10 different hospitals in an 8 month journey. Eventually, after getting better, I made it home, re- joined school, and am doing much better.
I have thought many times about how to write this next section. I kept deleting what I typed, seeing it as either too cynical or bitter entitlement. But the plain truth is, it sucked. Being different, constantly dealing with people at school, than going home and feeling all alone. It really did suck. The truth is, those hospitals are not the reason I am better. It is a result of desperation. Most of them were horrible- ignorant, often entitled staff that watched over us, run- down facilities with a half- working shower and little to no heat, and kids who were better at expressing their frustration through violence rather than words. I was bullied just as much in those facilities. I was bullied for my health issues, and so much more. I was in many fights, when I had no previous fights before my hospitalization. I had to learn to be selfish, and how to put my own safety over others. That was counterintuitive to my healing, given that part of my issues was seeing myself in a negative light. If anything, that experience just made it worse. I self- harmed much more. I was rapidly declining.
A kid named Ethan changed everything. He was at my final facility, and we hated each other's guts. He punched me in the face on more than 1 occasion, and the breaking point was when he pulled a stick he had whittled down to a sharp point on me. After that whole situation was dealt with, I called my Mom. The next day, I was home. I realized, there are a lot of people who have it much worse than me. I need to make this work.
And that was the epiphany. Slowly, I stopped self- harming, I was able to rebuild relationships with my family, I was able to feel ok and hopeful for the first time in my life. That was a true gift, more valuable than every material object in my bedroom. And that has enabled me to have a life, to pursue my dreams in engineering, and be a symbol of strength for those who know what it is like to be alone. Thank you for taking the time to read my essay, and for considering my application.