Despite my challenges, I was still able to get up every day, complete my work, do athletics, and get good grades. Mostly because I used all of it as a source of distraction. I'd fill up my plate with all these assignments and projects so I didn't have to focus on what I pushed to the back of my head. And at those times I had my best friend to help me and who reminded me to eat, sleep, and take care of myself when I was so invested in the work in front of me. Since that year I lost that friend and after a while of trying to wrap my head around that loss, I attempted. The moment it occurred, I allowed the dull feeling to hold me for too long. And though before my attempt I did try to do the same technique, strangely, I was too tired. I was over-exerting my body with athletics because I had all this free time where I didn't want to feel sad. And when I did come home instead of sitting down and completing work I'd just sleep, or go on long walks when it got dark outside and my parents left. I didn't want to get help or distract myself, because I felt comfort in the sadness I was feeling, it put me in this state where I was able to push myself physically to this breaking point, and as an athlete that felt nice. I still managed my grades, but I noticed more assignments getting turned in late and more quizzes not being studied for, which discouraged my wanting to go into the medical field which requires extensive work. For most of my life, I was unable to communicate with my loved ones. I had multiple memorable experiences that happened to me starting my fourth-grade year and it caused me to spiral with anger issues, detachment, depression, paranoia, anxiety, and trust issues. I was only able to communicate every single event and emotion I held to my best friend, two years ago. And throughout the whole relationship, we were in such comfort with each other due to the fact that we both knew that the other was drowning. But as long as the other knew, it was okay. We couldn't help each other because we didn't even know how to help ourselves. I ended up spiraling, and every bad event I pushed to the back of my head came back. I no longer had distractions or the energy to put myself in dangerous situations. And I got to this point where I was sitting in my room and I got too comfortable with the darkness and feeling of detachment from everything. And I attempted by taking down two full bottles of pills. I'm okay now! I'm doing better and I'm in therapy but that's just my experience with one of the darkest places my mental health has brought me to.

Last year I took the Medical Careers ROP class provided at my school. I was given the opportunity to go to Clovis Community Medical Center and volunteer during my two-period classes. I was put in the Endoscopy Department and collected twenty-plus community service hours. I made sure to memorize the whole floor, where all the supplies for the nurse's carry-ons were, and how to move and change the beds. I met new people from a lot of different backgrounds, whether they were patients or the staff on call that day and I was able to conversate with them and help them in any way they needed. I know for certain I do not want to go into the department I was assigned to (Endoscopy) but the exposure surely pushed my wanting to go into the medical field. Even on breaks, I went to the hospital to help out the nurses on call. I was one of the few who helped set up five floors in a newly built department. I helped with that project for two days, five-plus hours each day and I absolutely loved it, because it taught me to walk and speak with confidence. I've volunteered for multiple cross country and track and field meets, mostly CIF, for a least eight hours each. It exposed me to people and gave me the confidence to speak to others and have people see me in a more approachable light. In all honesty, volunteering just makes me feel better, it makes me feel as though my purpose in helping others is getting put to use even though I'm not in the medical field yet. I suffer from depression and along with that comes this strong sense of detachment from everything. Though when I'm volunteering or helping people, I feel warm. Like I'm connected to all those people now, and I made a good difference for once. And because my home situation isn't the best, I plan to get out of my house right after graduation. And with that arrangement money is going to be the main factor that determines where I'll be living, and how many student loans I end up with. I want to give my condolences for your loss, losing someone to suicide is something that my family almost had to go through with me. And I'm sorry that she's no longer with you anymore. She was beautiful, and I'm certain she'd be proud of you.

I feel a good amount of collaboration and diversity is important in advancing the healthcare and medical field, due to the variety of people who are in need of it every second. Without collaboration and diversity, no changes or advancements could be made. Last year I took the Medical Careers ROP class provided at my school. I was given the opportunity to go to Clovis Community Medical Center and volunteer during my two-period classes. I was put in the Endoscopy Department and collected twenty-plus community service hours. I made sure to memorize the whole floor, where all the supplies for the nurse's carry-ons were, and how to move and change the beds. I met new people from a lot of different backgrounds, whether they were patients or the staff on call that day and I was able to conversate with them and help them in any way they needed. I know for certain I do not want to go into the department I was assigned to (Endoscopy) but the exposure surely pushed my wanting to go into the medical field. Even on breaks, I went to the hospital to help out the nurses on call. I was one of the few who helped set up five floors in a newly built department. I helped with that project for two days, five-plus hours each day and I absolutely loved it, because it taught me to walk and speak with confidence. With those two extensive experiences, I was able to be exposed to a variety of different people. Both patients and health care workers. At first, I was intimidated to talk or put in my input but gradually was able to speak and learn from those around me. I would converse with patients, learn about them, and hopefully, help easy their anxiety. And with any other health provider, I asked so many questions. Not just about their jobs but about themselves. I think a medical professional's character is just as important as their position. Before this I never went out of my way to talk to people, I'd actually avoid it. I was perfectly content with getting a medical job that didn't involve too much interaction. But as I was able to conversate with so many different personalities slowly grew my confidence. And with that, I'm more able to hold myself up and look more approachable. I think those grown attributes will help me in the future.

I think being ashamed of my mental health and all the events that caused them got me to this point where I'm able to express them so freely and work on trying to improve myself more. Trying to control them and distract myself from every crappy thing that's happened to me, dragged me to the darkest places in my time. I put myself in very harmful situations, eventually leading up to my attempt and hospitalization. And though it was more painful than I could ever describe, I fully believe it was meant to happen. I happened so I could have time alone to heal and learn not to hate myself. It happened to I could meet Judy, my therapist. I happened so I could tell my sisters everything, just my old best friend before them. And it happened so I could change my outlook on life. My appreciation for being able to breathe. Knowing to always ask those around me about how they are mentally. Or to be there with them in the silence. I'm kinder and smile more. I'm learning how to improve my relationship with myself first now because I now understand I can't love anyone properly or in the way they deserve if I hate myself.

Despite my challenges, I was still able to get up every day, complete my work, do athletics, and get good grades. Mostly because I used all of it as a source of distraction. I'd fill up my plate with all these assignments and projects so I didn't have to focus on what I pushed to the back of my head. And at those times I had my best friend to help me and who reminded me to eat, sleep, and take care of myself when I was so invested in the work in front of me. Since that year I lost that friend and after a while of trying to wrap my head around that loss, I attempted. The moment it occurred, I allowed the dull feeling to hold me for too long. And though before my attempt I did try to do the same technique, strangely, I was too tired. I was over-exerting my body with athletics because I had all this free time where I didn't want to feel sad. And when I did come home instead of sitting down and completing work I'd just sleep, or go on long walks when it got dark outside and my parents left. I didn't want to get help or distract myself, because I felt comfort in the sadness I was feeling, it put me in this state where I was able to push myself physically to this breaking point, and as an athlete that felt nice. I still managed my grades, but I noticed more assignments getting turned in late and more quizzes not being studied for, which discouraged my wanting to go into the medical field which requires extensive work. For most of my life I was unable to communicate with my loved ones. I had multiple memorable experiences that happened to me starting my fourth-grade year and it caused me to spiral with anger issues, detachment, depression, paranoia, anxiety, and trust issues. I was only able to communicate every single event and emotion I held into my best friend, two years ago. And throughout the whole relationship, we were in such comfort with each other due to the fact that we both knew that the other was drowning. But as long as the other knew, it was okay. We couldn't help each other because we didn't even know how to help ourselves. And once I lost that relationship this year, I spiraled, and every bad event I pushed to the back of my head came back. I no longer had distractions or the energy to put myself in dangerous situations. And I got to this point where I was sitting in my room and I got too comfortable with the darkness and feeling of detachment from everything. And I attempted by taking down two full bottles of pills. After that I had a lot of people cry in front of me, scream at me, and be overly cautious. It was frustrating because I knew it was because they cared and we were aware of where I was mentally. But every time they walked in after and I was crying or looked sad I couldn't just have that moment to feel that way without questions. I couldn't be sad without those around me thinking I was going to harm myself. And for a long while after my attempt, I still felt as sad and detached because the only "out" I'd contemplated was out of the picture. It was painful and scary, and a longer process than I expected. I couldn't breathe, I could feel the oxygen not going to my brain, and this "peaceful way out" was gone. I still tasted the meds after when I'd burp or gag and I'd have panic attacks. I think that was my lowest point, then after I was placed with a therapist. I think the smallest of gestures that I've taken to implement change is talking and taking the time to listen to those around me. Asking how they are mentally, and being kind. Before my attempt I was oversharing how detached I felt, all the bad situations I put myself in that were totally out of character for me, and I self-isolated myself. I think if I had someone who took me aside and asked how I was, maybe I would have felt something. I want to be that person for those around me, a comforting warm place where a person can feel safe to talk or even stay with in silence. I noticed myself connecting and talking to kids in my classes like we've been friends for years, but I've only recently started talking to them despite having classes with them for three-plus years. I'm able to smile and laugh more while taking advantage of those moments. And now my relationship with my sisters has only grown, they're basically my parents so it's a new level of understanding between us, now that I've told them everything just as I did my best friend. And for the best friend I lost, I'm working through my problems and issues. I'm learning how to love myself so when I have someone as close as that friend, I'll be able to love them properly.

For most of my life I was unable to communicate with my loved ones. I had multiple memorable experiences that happened to me starting my fourth-grade year and it caused me to spiral with anger issues, detachment, depression, paranoia, anxiety, and trust issues. I was only able to communicate every single event and emotion I held into my best friend, two years ago. And throughout the whole relationship, we were in such comfort with each other due to the fact that we both knew that the other was drowning. But as long as the other knew, it was okay. We couldn't help each other because we didn't even know how to help ourselves. And once I lost that relationship this year, I spiraled, and every bad event I pushed to the back of my head came back. I no longer had distractions or the energy to put myself in dangerous situations. And I got to this point where I was sitting in my room and I got too comfortable with the darkness and feeling of detachment from everything. And I attempted by taking down two full bottles of pills. After that I had a lot of people cry in front of me, scream at me, and be overly cautious. It was frustrating because I knew it was because they cared and we were aware of where I was mentally. But every time they walked in after and I was crying or looked sad I couldn't just have that moment to feel that way without questions. I couldn't be sad without those around me thinking I was going to harm myself. And for a long while after my attempt, I still felt as sad and detached because the only "out" I'd contemplated was out of the picture. It was painful and scary, and a longer process than I expected. I couldn't breathe, I could feel the oxygen not going to my brain, and this "peaceful way out" was gone. I still tasted the meds after when I'd burp or gag and I'd have panic attacks. I think that was my lowest point, then after I was placed with a therapist. I think the smallest of gestures that I've taken to implement change is talking and taking the time to listen to those around me. Asking how they are mentally, and being kind. Before my attempt I was oversharing how detached I felt, all the bad situations I put myself in that were totally out of character for me, and I self-isolated myself. I think if I had someone who took me aside and asked how I was, maybe I would have felt something. I want to be that person for those around me, a comforting warm place where a person can feel safe to talk or even stay with in silence.

I've always been able to get up every day, complete my work, do athletics, and get good grades. Mostly because I used all of it as a source of distraction. I'd fill up my plate with all these assignments and projects so I didn't have to focus on what I pushed to the back of my head. And at those times I had my best friend to help me and who reminded me to eat, sleep, and take care of myself when I was so invested in the work in front of me. Since that year I lost that friend and after a while of trying to wrap my head around that loss, I attempted. The moment it occurred, I allowed the dull feeling to hold me for too long. And though before my attempt I did try to do the same technique, strangely, I was too tired. There were a lot of events in my life since I was a child that led me to taking pills to "try and make myself sleep", and this last year I ended up loosing my best friend and all the things I pushed to the back of my head came flowing in. Which enede with me taking down two bottles, and having to be taken to get help. I was over-exerting my body with athletics because I had all this free time where I didn't want to feel sad. And when I did come home instead of sitting down and completing work I'd just sleep, or go on long walks when it got dark outside and my parents left. I didn't want to get help or distract myself, because I felt comfort in the sadness I was feeling, it put me in this state where I was able to push myself physically to this breaking point, and as an athlete that felt nice. I still managed my grades, but I noticed more assignments getting turned in late and more quizzes not being studied for. I wanted to punish my body more than sitting at home doing work. I was able to slowly make improvements in taking care of myself and opening up to my family, and with time I'm still trying to get back into the old groove of balancing academics with what I chose to do with all the free time, and I'm trying to work out all my past traumas throught therapy, and by doing that I can get to this point where I can love myself ad be able to love others properly. I want to go into the medical field but I'm thinking in getting a minor or career where I can share my experience and healing process with people lost in their minds just as much as I was.

For me I usually keep to myself, I have maybe two actual close friends and I rarely talk to anyone else. Though there have been multiple occurrences where I'm in a situation with those friends or random people where showing empathy towards them is necessary. I have found that words actually don't have to be exchanged at all. Just being there can have just as strong an impact. Knowing someone is present just in case you want to talk, is way better than having no one there at all. Sometimes I don't have any advice to give or I have no way to help the situation, so I tend to just stay with the person in silence. We could both be dead silent, and whether I hold their hand or let either one of our heads lay against the other's shoulder, I find that's the strongest way I have shown empathy towards those around me. I've noticed after covid since everyone had to be isolated, people have become terrible at expressing themselves. They have forgotten talking can release some of the pressure off of their bodies. So instead of getting angry that this person isn't talking. Just understanding that sometimes it's too hard to talk, is the best thing you can do for them. I'm terrible at communicating in these situations. Just reflecting on how all the people in my life have responded to me not being able to say anything when I'm stuck, whether they're still in my life or have left, they have all stuck with me. Especially those who have responded in the most kind of ways, I took how those few people treated me when I felt so torn down and imitated that for others so they can feel as cared for as I did.

In order for one to live a life that is long and healthy, I would say they must have a time in their life where they're alone. Though this can make a lot of people uncomfortable, and the feeling of being alone isn't the best. I believe someone must first get used to and actually start being comfortable with being alone and doing stuff by themselves in order to live a happier life. Having people present and doing stuff with others whose company you enjoy is always good, though people rely so heavily on others the minute they're alone they feel empty. They don't like being with themselves, and that's a very dangerous thing. Once one is happy with themself and enjoys doing things to the point where they don't need anyone present, it's as if they've reached a higher level of self-acceptance that is necessary because no one is permanent. The only person who you're actually going to be with forever is yourself, so you might as well start getting used to spending some time and getting to know this person.

As a teenager who has been raised in a household run by a man who's grown in a different time. It's normal for them to push their belief that women can't take care of themselves without a strong man to help them. I've grown up with my dad being my biggest critic, making all three of his daughters feel as though they have come into this world to just follow his commands and do whatever he pleases because he is supposedly the one in control. And being his little girl with opinions that differ from his, one can get used to pointless draining fights, that don't even get close to being heard. Because for those whose minds are so closed to other opinions, there is no changing it with words. In complete honesty, I am nowhere close to overcoming the adversity male influences in my life have cast over my sisters and me, though I have learned words can't change a narrow-minded individual, only actions can. It is my plan to move out of this encaged household and prove how I can take care of myself and others on my own like I have been doing since I was young. To do that education is a big factor, I'm going to college and becoming a physician. Though I am unsure what area in the medical field I am going in, I have always known that I wanted to be involved in humanitarian work. One can go into this without a medical degree, though I feel like I would be able to do more and help more people after I became a doctor. I would give back to my own community by working in a hospital or private practice in the area. But as well as other communities struck down by natural disasters or hardships. I feel as though humanitarians who go out to countries in need, do the most amazing work, they are putting their own life at risk by going to a country that may inevitably harm them, in order to help those who are in serious need. I want to be able to help people in these high-intensity situations get the medical help they are in need of. I'm not moving out, going to college, and going into this field to prove individuals wrong. I am going to complete this goal because I know I am capable of doing so. This is to prove myself wrong because there was a time where I let my mind get the best of me and believe that I wouldn't be able to do anything without them. So I thank you for this opportunity.