I remember as far back as eighth grade, I would make all my future career slideshows about being a nurse- not just a nurse, but a psychiatric nurse. I have been interested in this niche career for four years, rarely wavering in my decision. I decided upon this career because I've always wanted to help people, even since I was a little girl. My very first memories consist of me taking care of my brother, and serving as his second mother. When my sister came around, I would adore her as my own and take care of her as well. When I was thirteen and my last sister was brought into this world, I began to take care of her immediately. All my siblings, able-bodied or not, mean the world to me and I strive to be the best older sister possible to them. However, the nursing aspect comes into view regarding my older brother. He is nonverbal, and autistic, and requires assistance with tasks such as dressing himself, eating, bathing, and using the restroom, so I have a slight background in aspects of nursing. Furthermore, I have seen what psychiatric issues can reduce a person to, seeing how my aunt suffered terribly from postpartum depression, how her brother- my uncle- would be when he was depressed, how his life came to an abrupt end when he made a rash decision due to his bipolar disorder. I have struggled with psychiatric issues myself, so much so that I have considered self-admittance to a psychiatric ward, so I truly understand the mental torment that comes with mental illness. I hope to become a nurse to fulfill my personal, as well as career, goals in helping people. Where many nurses help those with bodily ailments, I wish to serve and help those suffering in their very own minds. I hope to help people when they’re in their lowest place and assist them to recover whenever possible, and if not, help them cope with their issues. All in all, I have always wanted to help others, but I wish to work with people suffering within their minds. Another reason why I choose to pursue this career is because I feel so thankful for the healthcare I received when I was at my most ill, the way my therapist revolutionized my life by teaching me methods to cope. While I may not sit across. from my future patients, I will be paying back my cosmic debt to healthcare workers, especially those in the area of mental health.

My mental health has been a struggle for me since puberty. Like many other teens, I have been faced with stress from school work, apathy towards academia, insomnia from late-night studies, and many other things. Combined, it resulted in a miserable little girl, one who never planned for her future “just in case we didn’t make it that far”- one who later realized she had depression. My depression started as early as sixth grade, the year 2016, and went undiagnosed until ninth grade, the year 2019. For three years, I faced crushing stress from my own extremely high expectations and insomnia from the aforementioned stress, all without realizing my symptoms were not normal. Had my mom not noticed my self-harm scars, I don’t believe I would have ever received the help I needed. After my mom questioned me about the ins and outs, the whys, and the lack of gratitude I had for not appreciating my life, I was promptly signed up for therapy, which I resisted like a rabid dog herded into a cage. I was so scared to discuss what I was feeling with someone else, especially since that someone would be a stranger to me. After a few months of therapy, I felt relieved. I was nowhere near cured, but I was definitely in a better place, and I began to cope a little. A year into therapy, I was much better, but I still experienced bouts of depression. About sixteen months in, my therapist brought up the taboo subject of depression, and how I should consider going on medication. While I was all for it, I was (and still am) a minor medically, so any and all discussion about being medicated had to go through my mother first, which I would have to bring up on my own. I was so frightened, yet I knew that I needed it. On the day of my yearly appointment, I went through all the regular steps. Breath in, breath out, breath in, breath out; and at the end of the appointment the doctor asked if we had any questions or comments, my mom began, “No, we don-” until I cut her off. It was silent, and my feeble croak of “I need help.” rebounded off the four walls over and over. I began medicines, trial and error of dosages and brands. I found my perfect mix, generic Prozac, 20mg two times a day. I got much better, and a year or two down the line I was faced with a diagnosis of bipolar disorder, which I am medicated for (Lamotril, 100mg once a day). My experience/recovery from my battle with mental health has heavily influenced me to pursue a career in psychiatric nursing since I hope to give someone the salvation I was given. After several years of therapy and dozens of bottles of pills, I have become someone the miserable little girl never could have imagined. I laugh until my belly hurts, I raise my hand in class, and I asked out a boy. Learning to advocate for myself made the biggest difference, and I have learned to live life without worrying about what others think, cliche as it is. I wear the goofy shirt I made myself, I try new styles of makeup, and I participate in class debates. Through years of torment, I have reached a state of happiness that nearly never wavers. I feel that I have learned something that many others haven't, how to truly enjoy and savor life despite all the issues- the importance of being yourself, since you cannot be happy otherwise.

I hope to be someone's advocate and caretaker when they're at their most vulnerable. While many other nursing students plan to be a labor and delivery nurses, a pediatric nurse, and overall many other more popular types of nurses, I aim to be a psychiatric nurse. I would love to see a massive impact, such as reforming how psychiatric wards are seen by the public, but I will also be entirely satisfied with caring for my patients in a way that fulfills their needs and desires. I remember as far back as eighth grade, I would make all my future career slideshows about being a nurse- not just a nurse, but a psychiatric nurse. I have been interested in this niche career for four years, rarely wavering in my decision. I decided upon this career because I've always wanted to help people, even since I was a little girl. My very first memories consist of me taking care of my brother, and serving as his second mother. When my sister came around, I would adore her as my own and take care of her as well. When I was thirteen and my last sister was brought into this world, I began to take care of her immediately. All my siblings, able-bodied or not, mean the world to me and I strive to be the best older sister possible to them. However, the nursing aspect comes into view in regards to my older brother. He is nonverbal, autistic, and requires assistance with tasks such as dressing himself, eating, bathing, and using the restroom, so I have a slight background in aspects of nursing. Furthermore, I have seen what psychiatric issues can reduce a person to, seeing how my aunt suffered terribly from postpartum depression, how her brother- my uncle- would be when he was depressed, how his life came to an abrupt end when he made a rash decision due to his bipolar disorder. I have struggled with psychiatric issues, so much so that I have considered self-admittance to a psychiatric ward, so I truly understand the mental torment that comes with mental illness. I hope to become a nurse to fulfill my personal, as well as career, goals in helping people. Where many nurses help those with bodily ailments, I wish to serve and help those suffering in their very own mind. I hope to help people when they’re in their lowest place and assist them to recover whenever possible, and if not, help them cope with their issues. All in all, I have always wanted to help others, but I wish to work with people suffering within their mind.