Turning Point At the age of fourteen, I was sent away from my family and told to leave all things of comfort behind. I knew that admitting myself to the youth hospital for mental treatment meant I’d be faced with many new experiences, but I had no idea what it would do for me. This moment marked a new chapter in my life. The first day, a nurse ushered me through the facility entryway into what was called ‘the group room’. It was filled with girls around my age, give or take. I was told to sit down and get to know everyone, but I was bombarded with very personal questions by others, like, “Why are you here?” and “How did you attempt it?” It was so overwhelming that I began to sob, confusing the girls around me. I wasn’t ready to openly speak about my struggles, though I quickly realized I didn’t have the backgrounds the other girls did. Sure, I dealt with my disability and harassment for my sexuality, but I hadn't suffered any major events in my life. The other patients all had significant life experiences leading them there, but I lacked any clear reasons. I felt like I didn’t meet the ‘criteria’ to be mentally unwell. I had wanted, and tried, to end my own life- yet I couldn’t pinpoint why. I felt very alone and embarrassed, like there was something wrong with me. During my stay, I met another girl who had been hospitalized on and off for years. I eventually asked what led her to this point in her life. She answered that her life was nearly all she could hope for, full of love and opportunity, and that a psychiatrist diagnosed years ago that she had a severe hormonal imbalance causing major depression. I felt a light bulb click and understood that I must be similar. I was so glad to have found someone I could relate to, understand, and who could erase my self-distrust. There was a feeling of validation, one that I desperately needed, and my shame faded away. I realized I was in need, just like her, and that I deserved it just as much as she did. That is what led me to accept the help I needed. Now, at the age of 18, I still struggle with mental health and General Anxiety Disorder. As I continue to get treatment, my quality of life has risen exponentially. Having my own experiences and learning how to cope, I’m able to use those parts of my life to support others around me and be to them what the girl in the hospital was to me. I want to help others to see that there is truly light at the end of the tunnel. My own experiences with mental health have pushed me to study psychology in college- and apply those skills to teach those around me about the importance of mental health. I believe that mental help and wellness should be available to anyone who is in need of it and that it should be able to be talked about without shame. Our mental health affects how we behave, react, and feel as we walk through life. It’s just as important as physical health, despite some not treating it as such. Mental wellness is crucial at every moment in life, from childhood to senior age, and it must be addressed.

Turnaround At the age of fourteen, I was sent away from my family and told to leave all things of comfort behind. I knew that admitting myself to the youth hospital meant I’d be without many things, but I hadn’t realized I’d have to enter with nothing of my own but some clothing. My stuffed bear, which had belonged to my deceased brother, and the blanket I’d had since I was a baby were left behind in my parents’ arms as we said our goodbyes. This moment marked a new chapter in my life. The first thing I heard upon walking through the facility doors was coarse, pained crying. It wasn’t a comforting first impression of my future there, but I’d already arrived and couldn’t turn back. I looked around for where the cries were coming from and noticed a girl stomping her feet on the hardwood. A nurse tried to calm her down, but the teen seemed beyond consolation. Another nurse beside me ushered me past into what was called ‘the group room’. It was filled with girls around my age, give or take. I was told to sit down and get to know everyone. Immediately, I was bombarded with questions by others, some so close to my face that I pulled back. They asked me questions that felt very personal, like, “Why are you here?”, “How did you do it?” and “Can I see your scars? You have some, right?” It was so overwhelming that I began to sob, confusing the girls around me. I felt I had made a grave mistake by surrendering myself to the hospital. I realized I didn’t have the problems or trauma the other girls did. Sure, I dealt with disability and harassment for being LGBTQ+, but I hadn't suffered any major events. I began to wonder if I was faking my mental illness- was I deceiving myself? Had I just wanted attention? Were my grades and attendance that year really due to my depression- or was I simply being lazy? I realized that the other patients all had significant life experiences leading them here, but I lacked any clear reasons. I felt like I didn’t meet the ‘criteria’ to be mentally unwell. I had wanted, and tried, to end my own life yet I couldn’t pinpoint why. Second-guessing myself was a constant that day. I felt utterly alone. The next morning, I met another girl who had been hospitalized on and off for years. She was much more collected than some others I’d met previously, and we’d chat during our free time. Eventually, I cautiously asked what led her to such a long battle with her mental health. She answered that her life was nearly all she could hope for, full of love and opportunity, and that her doctor and psychologist diagnosed years ago that she had a severe hormonal imbalance. I felt a spark light up in my mind, and suddenly proclaimed that I must be similar. I was so glad to have found someone I could relate to easier, understand, and who could erase my self-distrust. There was a feeling of validation, one that I desperately needed, and my loneliness faded away. I realized I was in need, just like her, and that I deserved it just as much as she did. That is what led me to get the help I needed. I was at such a low point where all I could do was be vulnerable to those who wanted to help, and that’s what saved me. I now know that I can get through absolutely anything. Now, at the age of 17, I still struggle with mental health and General Anxiety Disorder; as I continue to attend therapy and do my best each day, I know there are always things in life worth living. I want to help others to see that, too. I believe that mental help and wellness should be available to anyone who is in need of it. I want to study psychology in college and apply those skills to teach those around me about mental health and the importance of it. Our mental health affects how we behave, react, and feel as we walk through life. It’s just as important as physical health, despite some not treating it as such. Mental wellness is crucial at every moment in life, from childhood and teen years, through adult to senior ages.