I was the girl who masqueraded as the happiest person in the world. I believed that if I pretended to be happy, I'd somehow deceive myself into believing that maybe I was. To my demise, this strategy never worked and my depression was reflected in my body and self-image. I am an emotional eater. I eat when I am stressed, and sometimes, I eat nothing. My weight constantly fluctuates and it is a hardship that I have struggled with silently for many years. My emotional eating began in middle school. I did not realize it at the time, but my body developed early and caught the attention of my peers. It seemed that a target had been put on my back as I was the center of many inappropriate remarks. Most of the time, I laughed off the disgusting comments but inside I felt embarrassed by how quickly my body matured. This led me to think that losing weight would be best. My obsession with being smaller was a dangerous one as it opened the doors to eating disorders. When I looked in the mirror, I was never pleased and I felt as though I was always fat. I went through a period of time where I gained fifteen pounds and then lost twenty. My weight skyrocketed up and down based on stress and hatred toward my body. My weight journey was most difficult through middle school and high school. As a college student, I still struggle, but I am of the mind now that it is time to change. I want to begin learning to love my body in all its seasons, and I want to commit to eating healthy. My depression and poor body image have consumed too much of my life, and I want to take my life back and begin a healthy journey. In order for me to maintain a healthy body image, it must begin with nurturing my mind. I have decided to listen and meditate on daily affirmations to change my poor thinking in terms of my body. I will also ensure that my diet is no longer a diet, but a lifestyle. I will eat fruits and vegetables, and lean proteins. I will eat sweets in moderation. When I am stressed, I will do yoga or run with my lovely dog. If I find myself talking badly about the way I look, I will shout "no!" in my mind and out loud. I will stand up with my hands on my hips and puff my chest out like I am Wonder Woman because I am changing my state. My life is my own and I want my life and body back. I am the creator of the life I want, and I want a healthy mind and body.

My mother’s words coated my soul in warmth as the lovely evening came to an end. I closed my eyes and my heart felt as though it were a bird flying over mountains. I had just danced with a boy for the first time, and although it seemed minute to everyone around me, it became a night to remember. It was the first night I was not afraid of trying something new. Throughout high school, I was always afraid to step out of my comfort zone. I was afraid of letting myself try new things. I avoided dances, and I lacked in participating in extracurriculars. I always wanted to expose myself, but I could not get over the thought of failing or embarrassing myself. I carried this mentality with me until one night where I babysat at a wedding for my dear friend. It was Mexican wedding which meant loud music and lots of dancing. People danced into night, and after the long hours of babysitting I felt exhausted. Before I could leave, a young man asked me to dance. I was almost quick to say no until old words from a heartwarming time woke an archived memory in me. My mother’s advice for me as I go through life all came back to me an instant. “When you get the choice to sit it out or dance, dance.” I danced the night away, and it made me realize something special about life. It is important to make good decisions, but it is also important to live and experience new things. Life has so much beauty and we only live once. I have a bucket list of all the beautiful experiences I want to open myself to. I want to dance until I can dance no more.

Was I going to die? I crouched down at the foot of the tree as my body shook with fear. I had come face to face with the unexpected, face to face with danger. The buck stood over me and locked his eyes with mine. He stood frozen in place, eyes ablaze with mystery, and his antlers seemed to reach the sky so, I pleaded with him. “Please, don’t kill me,” I begged the animal who could not understand any of my words. I flinched as he took a step toward me, but in a second, he changes direction. The buck blows through his nose and storms away into the array of trees. I finally let out my shaky breath and fall into a delirious daze. Should I go back home? I couldn’t. If I went back home, then everyone would know I had skipped school, again. Instead, I walked through the forest internally shaken up. That was the first semester of my senior year of high school. It marks the time of my life when everything spiraled out of control. Familial issues came to bloom, my job became stressful, and my grades started dropping. All the turmoil sent me into a mental breakdown landing me in the hospital. When I got out, I believed my clarity had been restored, but slowly all the dark thoughts came creeping back. This began the cycle of me skipping school. I, who had once been a straight-A student could not find the passion or reason to keep getting out of bed. I yearned to find someone who could understand me, but it was difficult. My family has never taken mental health well. Although a plethora of mental health problems is in my families such as depression, anxiety, OCD, and psychosis, it is usually taboo to talk about. Most times it was made fun of or disregarded. My parents had a difficult time understanding my breakdown because it seemed as though I had all I needed for a happy life. I grew up in the suburbs with a roof over my head and food on the table. How could their daughter be depressed? I had trouble understanding it too. I was full of guilt and shame because my mental health seemed to affect people around me. Everyone seemed to isolate themselves or became too clingy. The relationships in my life were strained and I felt as though I could not breathe. It took me some time to regain strength. I started seeing my high school counselor more regularly and she helped me make sense of my feelings. I learned to start taking baby steps to recovery and I eased my way back into healthy relationships with my family, friends, and teachers. I started meditating and journaling daily to keep my thoughts aligned with my goals. I immersed myself in new activities such as singing, drawing, and playing the violin to wash away sadness and dark thoughts. I started working my job again once I felt safe enough to interact with more people, and my sense of self began to gravitate toward me. Inside me came all the dreams I had forgotten while I was depressed. I remembered all the beautiful things I wanted to do with my life. My dream to be a writer of various genres and types such as a journalist, novelist, or screenplay writer all came floating back to me. I had so many ideas I wanted to share with the world, and I reminded myself that all humans have gifts that are meant to be given to the people around us. My struggle with mental health has given me the goal of shedding light on mental health issues, particularly in black communities. As a future journalist, I plan to create a platform for discussion on those issues and to help in removing the stigma for black people. Now that I am in college, I still see a counselor so I can keep myself afloat. My mind is in a clearer position, but this is not to say I do not struggle. My mental health journey is something that I am still working through, and it has made me stronger as a person. I know what it feels like to be at the lowest point of life, and I have decided to keep moving forward no matter what. For so long, I felt worthless because I did not believe the world had a purpose for me. I have learned that my duty as a breathing human being is to give my life purpose. As L.M. Montgomery said, “It’s not what the world holds for you, it’s what you bring to it.” That is what I plan to focus on and that is how I plan to live my life despite my mental health challenges. I always remind myself to bring all the strength I have from all the good and bad to my world and turn it into something beautiful.

For as long as I can remember, I have loved creative writing. I was in the first grade when I wrote my first book series. My mother bought me a box of a hundred different crayon colors. Since there were so many crayons of the same shade, many of them had wacky names to seem as if they were different. I decided to use the names as characters for my stories. The silly names “Pinkalicious,” “Screamin Green,” and “Copper Cobbler” became my entire life as they took form as main characters. With a manilla folder in one hand and plain white paper in another, I wrote into a different world. Writing became essential for me. I began to see stories all around, even in small inanimate objects like coins. I wrote a story once told from the perspective of a penny; throughout the story, the penny struggled with the identity of feeling less valuable than the other coins, but he learns the lesson of acceptance in the end. Through emotional and mental adversities, writing has been an escape and has liberated me from the entrapment of difficult situations. Whether fiction or nonfiction, writing gives me the ability to turn my struggles into fuel. My ultimate dream is to become a novelist, but on top of that, I have other passions as well. I have developed many interests in different careers, so writing is not the only plan in motion. I know with all my heart that whatever I end up doing, I hope to use many of my experiences as a muse for a story. Writing is my everything because behind everything is a story. Whether if it is actual or made up, it can evoke inspiration and deep feelings just like all art can.

"Nothing is ever going to get any better. " This statement was my mindset two years ago. In 2019, I had experienced the epitome of a fall from grace. I was a senior in high school, but instead of focusing primarily on my education, I became involved in a life-consuming investigation at my job. I reported cases of sexual misconduct. At the time, I thought the problem would disappear, but it did not. I went through the traumatic event of victim shaming and betrayal from those around me. The never-ending calamity at school and work sent me into a mental deterioration; I was committed to a Mental Behavioral Unit. Although this sounds horrifying, it was probably one of the best things that have happened to me. While I was in the hospital, cut off from the world, I asked myself the exact question this essay proposes. What is my greatest inspiration in life? As I stared out the thick glass windows of the hospital, I took in the beauty around me. All of the trees, the building lights at night, and the sound of cars bustling down busy streets spoke to me. The answer dawned and made itself clearer all up to when I returned home from the surreal experience. I realized that I had trapped myself in my head. I lost touch with reality by allowing the belief that nothing would get better consume me. The elements of nature like trees, cars, and city lights reminded me that life goes on no matter where you are or what you are doing. When I was in the hospital, it seemed as if life had stopped, but it had not. I was the one who stopped, and once I grasped this realization, I woke up to an understanding that would ultimately set me free. I wanted another chance to overcome my adversity. I made a promise to myself to never sit in the dark and let negativity consume my mind. My greatest inspiration in life is that I have the power to persevere through any situation despite how big and scary it is. I tell myself that I have an infinite potential of all things beneficial in life, such as love, kindness, ambition, and success. It drives me to stay motivated in the direction of what I want out of life. When I get up in the morning, I meditate and take whatever steps I can to craft the life I love. As human beings, we all go through highs and lows, but at the end of the day, all we can hope for is that the best lies around the corner. Life goes on no matter where we are, and instead of hosting the false notion that nothing gets better, know that any problem will progress if you believe in yourself. We all have the superpower of perseverance. Sometimes it takes a rough patch to recognize it.