Mental health has been something I have really struggled with over the past few years. In middle school and early high school, my mental health suffered not only from the bullying I was enduring, but also due to the suffering of my sisters. When I was 12, my twin was placed in a psych ward for two weeks. In my early high school years, my older sister was in and out of the psych ward, and my mother was terrified for the both of them. I knew she was depending on me to stay healthy for my own sake and hers. All of this was a heavy burden, as I was already struggling with my own mental health. I learned to suppress my own feelings to protect my mother from another having to go through even more stress, but as a result I was suffering alone, suppressing my emotions, and dealing with them in unhealthy ways. I got into the habit of dealing with my own mental health issues in private, wondering what I was doing wrong and caring more about my sisters' safety than my own. On May 12th 2023, I spent the night at my dad's house. I went to bed blissfully unaware of what was currently going on just minutes away. On May 13th, I woke up to my father screaming that my older sister, who was only 17, had committed suicide before he dashed out the door. He was gone for three hours before I had any updates. I was only 15, days away from being 16. That day changed my life forever. During the first hour that I waited, I immediately got up and packed my bags waiting for my dad to come and get me. I was hopeful that he and my mother had discovered her in time for her to be saved, but by the second hour of waiting I knew it was too late. After the third hour, my father picked me up and brought me to the house where she died where my aunt, uncle, and cousins were already waiting. The paramedics had already left, and her body was gone. I went to see my mother, but she was curled up where my sister had died, completely disassociated from the world around her. The days that passed after that are a blur to me, but my mother shut down. In the months that followed I watched as my mother became an alcoholic, even threatening her own life right in front of me. I knew someone had to take care of her, so I started taking over the cooking, cleaning, and grocery shopping. Holding her up, whilst also trying to make sure my twin sister was safe, and processing my own emotions took a heavy toll on me, and eventually I chose to self harm instead of facing my problems. I constantly kept myself busy in order to avoid processing all that I had gone through. I acted like I was completely fine until I was all alone and I could deal with my emotions in my own ways. Now, a year and a half later, I still worry everyday about the safety of my family. I still struggle with my mental health and my intrusive thoughts, and I probably will for the rest of my life, but I am striving to become healthier. I have learned to deal with my emotions in safer ways, and I am currently trying to get out of the habit of keeping busy to avoid thinking about everything I have been through these past few years.