Despite increasing access to mental health resources, hundreds of people around the world continue to struggle, whether it be from the lack of resources in their area, or even just the stigma that has formed around asking for help. Over the years, my family and I have been impacted differently by mental health issues and the stigma surrounding them. I firmly believe that while we have come a long way in destigmatizing mental health and all of its flaws, we still have such a long way to go, and I believe that I can make a difference in the lives of others by providing this care. Over the years, my family has had an extensive history of mental health issues and needs. Most notably, my family lost my cousin Ben to suicide this past year. He struggled with depression and anxiety for most of his life, leading him to turn to drug use. Although he started with marijuana and alcohol, he eventually spiraled into using harder substances, leading him to develop paranoid schizophrenia. He battled for years to overcome his drug abuse and the mental health problems that came with them, but it all became too much for him. His death was a tragedy that affected our whole family, as we all stood by his side for his journey. His death impacted my way of thinking a lot. Looking at photos of his life, I could see a lot of myself in him, especially through his teenage years. He looked like me, acted like me, and he even had a friend group that resembled mine. With just a few different decisions, I could have ended up just like him. Overall, Ben’s life could have been something great -- He was an artist and a devoted Christian with so much potential. If he had been granted access to proper care and the resources he deserved, his life could have been redirected. It is people like Ben who make it clear how important access to mental health resources is. Something as simple as access to mental health resources can save a life. I have seen and experienced the long-lasting effects of suffering from mental disorders and complications, and I have made it my mission to make an impact in the world of mental health. My experiences have led me to crave change, and I aspire to become a psychiatrist. My dream is to not only help people and fight the stigma and lack of mental health resources but also to open my private practice one day. My mission to help people overcome mental disorders just as I have done but also to help people like Ben: my mission is to help people who have lost hope, people who have great potential, people who mean something to others but are too lost in their heads to see that. Although my mission is achievable, I cannot do it alone. To achieve this goal, I need a strong education, and I believe that this scholarship could be my first step to reaching this goal. This scholarship would be an investment not only into me and my aspirations, but also into hundreds of other people who need help, but are too scared to ask for it, or even do not have access to it. This scholarship would greatly help me achieve my only goal: Helping other people who need it, people who were not as fortunate as me.

In January of 2023, I sat alone before a casket. Inside lay the single most inspirational person that I have ever had the honor of knowing: my cousin, Ben. Early in his life, Ben had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, an incurable disease known for shifting the realities of those that it infected. Ben was mistreated by his caretaker, leading him to take his life. As I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat, Ben's favorite song began to play: Nirvana's cover of "The Man Who Sold the World". Featuring somber lyrics softened by an f minor scale, the music seemed to linger in the back of my throat, leaving a mellow flavor on my tongue. The more I listened to the song, the more I understood Ben's inner conflict. It was as if he had been speaking through the lyrics, admitting his fears and grievances using Cobain's presence as a metaphor and Bowie's literature as his voice. "Oh no," he sang, "Not me, I never lost control". It pained me to see how a genuinely kind and inspirational person like Ben was mistreated by the people who vowed to help. It brought to light the changes that needed to be made within the world of psychology. Each time I hear this rendition of "The Man Who Sold The World", my mind wanders back to Ben, leaving me face to face with the man who sold my world to Neuroscience, rejuvenating my frustration and determination. Throughout High School, Cobain's voice has played on a loop in my headphones, serenading my ambitions. "The Man Who Sold the World" has played as a backtrack to psychology classes, anatomy study sessions, and even biology projects, slowly bridging from a verse of remembrance into a chorus of passion. I find myself humming the tune as I plan my future, plotting my grand entrance into the psychology textbooks, thirsting to make my mark. My grief must have died alone as it morphed into devotion a long, long time ago. My personal mission is to become a caring and well-rounded healthcare provider, as well as a source of comfort to those in need. I dream to work with individuals with life-changing medical conditions in order to give them hope towards a better and more comfortable future, and to make sure that no patient is left behind when they need care the most. Although “The Man Who Sold the World” will always be a symbol of those that have been lost, I have given it another meaning. Instead of listening with somber ears, I now sit on the edge of my seat, ready to leap after any opportunity that life may present, for I am going to be the one to make a change. Oh yes, it will be me, for I never lost control. You’re face to face with the one that will change the world.

Despite increasing access to mental health resources, hundreds of people around the world continue to struggle, whether it be from the lack of resources in their area, or even just the stigma that has formed around asking for help. Over the years, my family and I have been impacted differently by mental health issues and the stigma surrounding them. I firmly believe that while we have come a long way in destigmatizing mental health and all of its flaws, we still have such a long way to go, and I believe that I can make a difference in the lives of others by providing this care. Throughout my life thus far, I have had my fair share of mental turmoil. I was diagnosed with a generalized anxiety disorder around the age of twelve, and I have been fighting for the ability to feel comfortable leaving my house for years. Over the past few years, I have made an extreme amount of progress toward this goal. Although I am still an anxious person, I have grown to be more comfortable being in public. I can maintain a job, drive, join social clubs and sports, and more. So much of this progress can be attributed to my access to therapy and other resources. If I had not had access to mental care such as therapy and testing through my doctor’s office, I would not have made it as far in life as I have. Having access to mental health resources has made it possible for me to recover from past traumas, overcome anxiety, and just be comfortable existing in social settings. Over the years, my family has had an extensive history of mental health issues and needs. Most notably, my family lost my cousin Ben to suicide this past year. He struggled with depression and anxiety for most of his life, leading him to turn to drug use. Although he started with marijuana and alcohol, he eventually spiraled into using harder substances, leading him to develop paranoid schizophrenia. He battled for years to overcome his drug abuse and the mental health problems that came with them, but it all became too much for him. His death was a tragedy that affected our whole family, as we all stood by his side for his journey. His death impacted my way of thinking a lot. Looking at photos of his life, I could see a lot of myself in him, especially through his teenage years. He looked like me, acted like me, and he even had a friend group that resembled mine. With just a few different decisions, I could have ended up just like him. Overall, Ben’s life could have been something great -- He was an artist and a devoted Christian with so much potential. If he had been granted access to proper care and the resources he deserved, his life could have been redirected. It is people like Ben who make it clear how important access to mental health resources is. Something as simple as access to mental health resources can save a life. I have seen and experienced the long-lasting effects of suffering from mental disorders and complications, and I have made it my mission to make an impact in the world of mental health. My experiences have led me to crave change, and I aspire to become a psychiatrist. My dream is to not only help people and fight the stigma and lack of mental health resources but also to open my private practice one day. My mission to help people overcome mental disorders just as I have done but also to help people like Ben: my mission is to help people who have lost hope, people who have great potential, people who mean something to others but are too lost in their heads to see that. Although my mission is achievable, I cannot do it alone. To achieve this goal, I need a strong education that will help me achieve my only goal: Helping other people who need it, people who were not as fortunate as me.

Despite increasing access to mental health resources, hundreds of people around the world continue to struggle, whether it be from the lack of resources in their area, or even just the stigma that has formed around asking for help. Over the years, my family and I have been impacted differently by mental health issues and the stigma surrounding them. I firmly believe that while we have come a long way in destigmatizing mental health and all of its flaws, we still have such a long way to go, and I believe that I can make a difference in the lives of others by providing this care. Throughout my life thus far, I have had my fair share of mental turmoil. I was diagnosed with a generalized anxiety disorder around the age of twelve, and I have been fighting for the ability to feel comfortable leaving my house for years. Over the past few years, I have made an extreme amount of progress toward this goal.Over time, I have grown to be more comfortable being in public. So much of this progress can be attributed to my access to therapy and other resources. If I had not had access to mental care I would not have made it as far in life. Having access to mental health resources has made it possible for me. Over the years, my family has had an extensive history of mental health issues and needs. Most notably, my family lost my cousin Ben to suicide this past year. He struggled with depression and anxiety for most of his life, leading him to turn to drug use. Although he started with marijuana and alcohol, he eventually spiraled into using harder substances, leading him to develop paranoid schizophrenia. He battled for years to overcome his drug abuse and the mental health problems that came with them, but it all became too much for him. His death was a tragedy that affected our whole family, as we all stood by his side for his journey. His death impacted my way of thinking a lot. Looking at photos of his life, I could see a lot of myself in him, especially through his teenage years. He looked like me, acted like me, and he even had a friend group that resembled mine. With just a few different decisions, I could have ended up like him. Overall, Ben’s life could have been something great -- He was an artist and a devoted Christian with so much potential. If he had been granted access to proper care and the resources he deserved, his life could have been redirected. It is people like Ben who make it clear how important access to mental health resources is. Something as simple as access to mental health resources can save a life. I have seen the long-lasting effects of mental disorders, and I have made it my mission to make an impact in the world of mental health. My experiences have made me crave change, and I aspire to become a psychiatrist. My mission to help people overcome mental disorders just as I have done but also to help people like Ben: my mission is to help people who have lost hope, people who have potential, people who mean something to others but are too lost to see it. Although my mission is achievable, I cannot do it alone. To achieve this goal, I need a strong education that will help me achieve my only goal: Helping other people who need it, people who were not as fortunate as me.

In January of 2023, I sat alone before a casket. Inside lay the single most inspirational person that I have ever had the honor of knowing: my cousin, Ben. Early in his life, Ben had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, an incurable disease known for shifting the realities of those that it infected. Ben was mistreated by his caretaker, leading him to take his life. As I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat, Ben's favorite song began to play: Nirvana's cover of "The Man Who Sold the World". Featuring somber lyrics softened by an f minor scale, the music seemed to linger in the back of my throat, leaving a mellow flavor on my tongue. The more I listened to the song, the more I understood Ben's inner conflict. It was as if he had been speaking through the lyrics, admitting his fears and grievances using Cobain's presence as a metaphor and Bowie's literature as his voice. "Oh no," he sang, "Not me, I never lost control". It pained me to see how a genuinely kind and inspirational person like Ben was mistreated by the people who vowed to help. It brought to light the changes that needed to be made within the world of psychology. Each time I hear this rendition of "The Man Who Sold The World", my mind wanders back to Ben, leaving me face to face with the man who sold my world to Psychology, rejuvenating my frustration and determination. Throughout High School, Cobain's voice has played on a loop in my headphones, serenading my ambitions. "The Man Who Sold the World" has played as a backtrack to psychology classes, anatomy study sessions, and even biology projects, slowly bridging from a verse of remembrance into a chorus of passion. I find myself humming the tune as I plan my future, plotting my grand entrance into the psychology textbooks, thirsting to make my mark. My grief must have died alone as it morphed into devotion a long, long time ago. My personal mission is to become a caring and well-rounded healthcare provider, as well as a source of comfort to those in need. I dream to work with individuals with life-changing medical conditions in order to give them hope towards a better and more comfortable future, and to make sure that no patient is left behind when they need care the most. Although “The Man Who Sold the World” will always be a symbol of those that have been lost, I have given it another meaning. Instead of listening with somber ears, I now sit on the edge of my seat, ready to leap after any opportunity that life may present, for I am going to be the one to make a change. Oh yes, it will be me, for I never lost control. You’re face to face with the one that will change the world.

In January of 2023, I sat alone before a casket. Inside lay the single most inspirational person that I have ever had the honor of knowing: my cousin, Ben. Early in his life, Ben had been diagnosed with Alzheimers, an incurable disease known for shifting the realities of those that it infected. Ben was mistreated by his caretaker, leading him to take his life. As I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat, Ben's favorite song began to play: Nirvana's cover of "The Man Who Sold the World". Featuring somber lyrics softened by an f minor scale, the music seemed to linger in the back of my throat, leaving a mellow flavor on my tongue. The more I listened to the song, the more I understood Ben's inner conflict. It was as if he had been speaking through the lyrics, admitting his fears and grievances using Cobain's presence as a metaphor and Bowie's literature as his voice. "Oh no," he sang, "Not me, I never lost control". It pained me to see how a genuinely kind and inspirational person like Ben was mistreated by the people who vowed to help. It brought to light the changes that needed to be made within the world of psychology. Each time I hear this rendition of "The Man Who Sold The World", my mind wanders back to Ben, leaving me face to face with the man who sold my world to Psychology, rejuvenating my frustration and determination. Throughout High School, Cobain's voice has played on a loop in my headphones, serenading my ambitions. "The Man Who Sold the World" has played as a backtrack to psychology classes, anatomy study sessions, and even biology projects, slowly bridging from a verse of remembrance into a chorus of passion. I find myself humming the tune as I plan my future, plotting my grand entrance into the psychology textbooks, thirsting to make my mark. My grief must have died alone as it morphed into devotion a long, long time ago. My personal mission is to become a caring and well-rounded healthcare provider, as well as a source of comfort to those in need. I dream to work with individuals with life-changing medical conditions in order to give them hope towards a better and more comfortable future, and to make sure that no patient is left behind when they need care the most. Although “The Man Who Sold the World” will always be a symbol of those that have been lost, I have given it another meaning. Instead of listening with somber ears, I now sit on the edge of my seat, ready to leap after any opportunity that life may present, for I am going to be the one to make a change. Oh yes, it will be me, for I never lost control. You’re face to face with the one that will change the world.

In January of 2023, I sat alone before a casket. Inside lay the single most inspirational person that I have ever had the honor of knowing: my cousin, Ben. Early in his life, Ben had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, an incurable disease known for shifting the realities of those that it infected. Ben was mistreated by his caretaker, leading him to take his life. As I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat, Ben's favorite song began to play: Nirvana's cover of "The Man Who Sold the World". Featuring somber lyrics softened by an f minor scale, the music seemed to linger in the back of my throat, leaving a mellow flavor on my tongue. The more I listened to the song, the more I understood Ben's inner conflict. It was as if he had been speaking through the lyrics, admitting his fears and grievances using Cobain's presence as a metaphor and Bowie's literature as his voice. "Oh no," he sang, "Not me, I never lost control". It pained me to see how a genuinely kind and inspirational person like Ben was mistreated by the people who vowed to help. It brought to light the changes that needed to be made within the world of psychology. Each time I hear this rendition of "The Man Who Sold The World", my mind wanders back to Ben, leaving me face to face with the man who sold my world to Psychology, rejuvenating my frustration and determination. Throughout High School, Cobain's voice has played on a loop in my headphones, serenading my ambitions. "The Man Who Sold the World" has played as a backtrack to psychology classes, anatomy study sessions, and even biology projects, slowly bridging from a verse of remembrance into a chorus of passion. I find myself humming the tune as I plan my future, plotting my grand entrance into the psychology textbooks, thirsting to make my mark. My grief must have died alone as it morphed into devotion a long, long time ago. My personal mission is to become a caring and well-rounded healthcare provider, as well as a source of comfort to those in need. I dream to work with individuals with life-changing medical conditions in order to give them hope towards a better and more comfortable future, and to make sure that no patient is left behind when they need care the most. Although “The Man Who Sold the World” will always be a symbol of those that have been lost, I have given it another meaning. Instead of listening with somber ears, I now sit on the edge of my seat, ready to leap after any opportunity that life may present, for I am going to be the one to make a change. Oh yes, it will be me, for I never lost control. You’re face to face with the one that will change the world.

In January of 2023, I sat alone before a casket. Inside lay the single most inspirational person that I have ever had the honor of knowing: my cousin, Ben. Early in his life, Ben had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, an incurable disease known for shifting the realities of those that it infected. Ben was mistreated by his caretaker, leading him to take his life. As I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat, Ben's favorite song began to play: Nirvana's cover of "The Man Who Sold the World". Featuring somber lyrics softened by an f minor scale, the music seemed to linger in the back of my throat, leaving a mellow flavor on my tongue. The more I listened to the song, the more I understood Ben's inner conflict. It was as if he had been speaking through the lyrics, admitting his fears and grievances using Cobain's presence as a metaphor and Bowie's literature as his voice. "Oh no," he sang, "Not me, I never lost control". It pained me to see how a genuinely kind and inspirational person like Ben was mistreated by the people who vowed to help. It brought to light the changes that needed to be made within the world of psychology. Each time I hear this rendition of "The Man Who Sold The World", my mind wanders back to Ben, leaving me face to face with the man who sold my world to Psychology, rejuvenating my frustration and determination. Throughout High School, Cobain's voice has played on a loop in my headphones, serenading my ambitions. "The Man Who Sold the World" has played as a backtrack to psychology classes, anatomy study sessions, and even biology projects, slowly bridging from a verse of remembrance into a chorus of passion. I find myself humming the tune as I plan my future, plotting my grand entrance into the psychology textbooks, thirsting to make my mark. My grief must have died alone as it morphed into devotion a long, long time ago. My personal mission is to become a caring and well-rounded healthcare provider, as well as a source of comfort to those in need. I dream to work with individuals with life-changing medical conditions in order to give them hope towards a better and more comfortable future, and to make sure that no patient is left behind when they need care the most. Although “The Man Who Sold the World” will always be a symbol of those that have been lost, I have given it another meaning. Instead of listening with somber ears, I now sit on the edge of my seat, ready to leap after any opportunity that life may present, for I am going to be the one to make a change. Oh yes, it will be me, for I never lost control. You’re face to face with the one that will change the world.

In January of 2023, I sat alone before a casket. Inside lay the single most inspirational person that I have ever had the honor of knowing: my cousin, Ben. Early in his life, Ben had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, an incurable disease known for shifting the realities of those that it infected. Ben was mistreated by his caretaker, leading him to take his life. As I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat, Ben's favorite song began to play: Nirvana's cover of "The Man Who Sold the World". Featuring somber lyrics softened by an f minor scale, the music seemed to linger in the back of my throat, leaving a mellow flavor on my tongue. The more I listened to the song, the more I understood Ben's inner conflict. It was as if he had been speaking through the lyrics, admitting his fears and grievances using Cobain's presence as a metaphor and Bowie's literature as his voice. "Oh no," he sang, "Not me, I never lost control". It pained me to see how a genuinely kind and inspirational person like Ben was mistreated by the people who vowed to help. It brought to light the changes that needed to be made within the world of psychology. Each time I hear this rendition of "The Man Who Sold The World", my mind wanders back to Ben, leaving me face to face with the man who sold my world to Neuroscience, rejuvenating my frustration and determination. Throughout High School, Cobain's voice has played on a loop in my headphones, serenading my ambitions. "The Man Who Sold the World" has played as a backtrack to psychology classes, anatomy study sessions, and even biology projects, slowly bridging from a verse of remembrance into a chorus of passion. I find myself humming the tune as I plan my future, plotting my grand entrance into the psychology textbooks, thirsting to make my mark. My grief must have died alone as it morphed into devotion a long, long time ago. My personal mission is to become a caring and well-rounded healthcare provider, as well as a source of comfort to those in need. I dream to work with individuals with life-changing medical conditions in order to give them hope towards a better and more comfortable future, and to make sure that no patient is left behind when they need care the most. Although “The Man Who Sold the World” will always be a symbol of those that have been lost, I have given it another meaning. Instead of listening with somber ears, I now sit on the edge of my seat, ready to leap after any opportunity that life may present, for I am going to be the one to make a change. Oh yes, it will be me, for I never lost control. You’re face to face with the one that will change the world.

In January of 2023, I sat alone before a casket. Inside lay the single most inspirational person that I have ever had the honor of knowing: my cousin, Ben. Early in his life, Ben had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, an incurable disease known for shifting the realities of those that it infected. Ben was mistreated by his caretaker, leading him to take his life. As I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat, Ben's favorite song began to play: Nirvana's cover of "The Man Who Sold the World". Featuring somber lyrics softened by an f minor scale, the music seemed to linger in the back of my throat, leaving a mellow flavor on my tongue. The more I listened to the song, the more I understood Ben's inner conflict. It was as if he had been speaking through the lyrics, admitting his fears and grievances using Cobain's presence as a metaphor and Bowie's literature as his voice. "Oh no," he sang, "Not me, I never lost control". It pained me to see how a genuinely kind and inspirational person like Ben was mistreated by the people who vowed to help. It brought to light the changes that needed to be made within the world of psychology. Each time I hear this rendition of "The Man Who Sold The World", my mind wanders back to Ben, leaving me face to face with the man who sold my world to Neuroscience, rejuvenating my frustration and determination. Throughout High School, Cobain's voice has played on a loop in my headphones, serenading my ambitions. "The Man Who Sold the World" has played as a backtrack to psychology classes, anatomy study sessions, and even biology projects, slowly bridging from a verse of remembrance into a chorus of passion. I find myself humming the tune as I plan my future, plotting my grand entrance into the psychology textbooks, thirsting to make my mark. My grief must have died alone as it morphed into devotion a long, long time ago. My personal mission is to become a caring and well-rounded healthcare provider, as well as a source of comfort to those in need. I dream to work with individuals with life-changing medical conditions in order to give them hope towards a better and more comfortable future, and to make sure that no patient is left behind when they need care the most. Although “The Man Who Sold the World” will always be a symbol of those that have been lost, I have given it another meaning. Instead of listening with somber ears, I now sit on the edge of my seat, ready to leap after any opportunity that life may present, for I am going to be the one to make a change. Oh yes, it will be me, for I never lost control. You’re face to face with the one that will change the world.

In January of 2023, I sat alone before a casket. Inside lay the single most inspirational person that I have ever had the honor of knowing: my cousin, Ben. Early in his life, Ben had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, an incurable disease known for shifting the realities of those that it infected. Ben was mistreated by his caretaker, leading him to take his life. As I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat, Ben's favorite song began to play: Nirvana's cover of "The Man Who Sold the World". Featuring somber lyrics softened by an f minor scale, the music seemed to linger in the back of my throat, leaving a mellow flavor on my tongue. The more I listened to the song, the more I understood Ben's inner conflict. It was as if he had been speaking through the lyrics, admitting his fears and grievances using Cobain's presence as a metaphor and Bowie's literature as his voice. "Oh no," he sang, "Not me, I never lost control". It pained me to see how a genuinely kind and inspirational person like Ben was mistreated by the people who vowed to help. It brought to light the changes that needed to be made within the world of psychology. Each time I hear this rendition of "The Man Who Sold The World", my mind wanders back to Ben, leaving me face to face with the man who sold my world to Neuroscience, rejuvenating my frustration and determination. My personal mission is to become a caring and well-rounded healthcare provider, as well as a source of comfort to those in need. I dream to work with individuals with life-changing medical conditions in order to give them hope towards a better and more comfortable future, and to make sure that no patient is left behind when they need care the most. Although “The Man Who Sold the World” will always be a symbol of those that have been lost, I have given it another meaning. Instead of listening with somber ears, I now sit on the edge of my seat, ready to leap after any opportunity that life may present, for I am going to be the one to make a change. Oh yes, it will be me, for I never lost control. You’re face to face with the one that will change the world.

In January of 2023, I sat alone before a casket. Inside lay the single most inspirational person that I have ever had the honor of knowing: my cousin, Ben. Early in his life, Ben had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, an incurable disease known for shifting the realities of those that it infected. Ben was mistreated by his caretaker, leading him to take his life. As I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat, Ben's favorite song began to play: Nirvana's cover of "The Man Who Sold the World". Featuring somber lyrics softened by an f minor scale, the music seemed to linger in the back of my throat, leaving a mellow flavor on my tongue. The more I listened to the song, the more I understood Ben's inner conflict. It was as if he had been speaking through the lyrics, admitting his fears and grievances using Cobain's presence as a metaphor and Bowie's literature as his voice. "Oh no," he sang, "Not me, I never lost control". It pained me to see how a genuinely kind and inspirational person like Ben was mistreated by the people who vowed to help. It brought to light the changes that needed to be made within the world of psychology. Each time I hear this rendition of "The Man Who Sold The World", my mind wanders back to Ben, leaving me face to face with the man who sold my world to Neuroscience, rejuvenating my frustration and determination. Throughout High School, Cobain's voice has played on a loop in my headphones, serenading my ambitions. "The Man Who Sold the World" has played as a backtrack to psychology classes, anatomy study sessions, and even biology projects, slowly bridging from a verse of remembrance into a chorus of passion. I find myself humming the tune as I plan my future, plotting my grand entrance into the psychology textbooks, thirsting to make my mark. My grief must have died alone as it morphed into devotion a long, long time ago. My personal mission is to become a caring and well-rounded healthcare provider, as well as a source of comfort to those in need. I dream to work with individuals with life-changing medical conditions in order to give them hope towards a better and more comfortable future, and to make sure that no patient is left behind when they need care the most. Although “The Man Who Sold the World” will always be a symbol of those that have been lost, I have given it another meaning. Instead of listening with somber ears, I now sit on the edge of my seat, ready to leap after any opportunity that life may present, for I am going to be the one to make a change. Oh yes, it will be me, for I never lost control. You’re face to face with the one that will change the world.

In January of 2023, I sat alone before a casket. Inside lay the single most inspirational person that I have ever had the honor of knowing: my cousin, Ben. Early in his life, Ben had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, an incurable disease known for shifting the realities of those that it infected. Ben was mistreated by his caretaker, leading him to take his life. As I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat, Ben's favorite song began to play: Nirvana's cover of "The Man Who Sold the World". Featuring somber lyrics softened by an f minor scale, the music seemed to linger in the back of my throat, leaving a mellow flavor on my tongue. The more I listened to the song, the more I understood Ben's inner conflict. It was as if he had been speaking through the lyrics, admitting his fears and grievances using Cobain's presence as a metaphor and Bowie's literature as his voice. "Oh no," he sang, "Not me, I never lost control". It pained me to see how a genuinely kind and inspirational person like Ben was mistreated by the people who vowed to help. It brought to light the changes that needed to be made within the world of psychology. Each time I hear this rendition of "The Man Who Sold The World", my mind wanders back to Ben, leaving me face to face with the man who sold my world to Neuroscience, rejuvenating my frustration and determination. Throughout High School, Cobain's voice has played on a loop in my headphones, serenading my ambitions. "The Man Who Sold the World" has played as a backtrack to psychology classes, anatomy study sessions, and even biology projects, slowly bridging from a verse of remembrance into a chorus of passion. I find myself humming the tune as I plan my future, plotting my grand entrance into the psychology textbooks, thirsting to make my mark. My grief must have died alone as it morphed into devotion a long, long time ago. My personal mission is to become a caring and well-rounded healthcare provider, as well as a source of comfort to those in need. I dream to work with individuals with life-changing medical conditions in order to give them hope towards a better and more comfortable future, and to make sure that no patient is left behind when they need care the most. Although “The Man Who Sold the World” will always be a symbol of those that have been lost, I have given it another meaning. Instead of listening with somber ears, I now sit on the edge of my seat, ready to leap after any opportunity that life may present, for I am going to be the one to make a change. Oh yes, it will be me, for I never lost control. You’re face to face with the one that will change the world.

In January of 2023, I sat alone before a casket. Inside lay the single most inspirational person that I have ever had the honor of knowing: my cousin, Ben. Early in his life, Ben had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, an incurable disease known for shifting the realities of those that it infected. Ben was mistreated by his caretaker, leading him to take his life. As I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat, Ben's favorite song began to play: Nirvana's cover of "The Man Who Sold the World". Featuring somber lyrics softened by an f minor scale, the music seemed to linger in the back of my throat, leaving a mellow flavor on my tongue. The more I listened to the song, the more I understood Ben's inner conflict. It was as if he had been speaking through the lyrics, admitting his fears and grievances using Cobain's presence as a metaphor and Bowie's literature as his voice. "Oh no," he sang, "Not me, I never lost control". It pained me to see how a genuinely kind and inspirational person like Ben was mistreated by the people who vowed to help. It brought to light the changes that needed to be made within the world of psychology. Each time I hear this rendition of "The Man Who Sold The World", my mind wanders back to Ben, leaving me face to face with the man who sold my world to Neuroscience, rejuvenating my frustration and determination. Throughout High School, Cobain's voice has played on a loop in my headphones, serenading my ambitions. "The Man Who Sold the World" has played as a backtrack to psychology classes, anatomy study sessions, and even biology projects, slowly bridging from a verse of remembrance into a chorus of passion. I find myself humming the tune as I plan my future, plotting my grand entrance into the psychology textbooks, thirsting to make my mark. My grief must have died alone as it morphed into devotion a long, long time ago. My personal mission is to become a caring and well-rounded healthcare provider, as well as a source of comfort to those in need. I dream to work with individuals with life-changing medical conditions in order to give them hope towards a better and more comfortable future, and to make sure that no patient is left behind when they need care the most. Although “The Man Who Sold the World” will always be a symbol of those that have been lost, I have given it another meaning. Instead of listening with somber ears, I now sit on the edge of my seat, ready to leap after any opportunity that life may present, for I am going to be the one to make a change. Oh yes, it will be me, for I never lost control. You’re face to face with the one that will change the world.

In January of 2023, I sat alone before a casket. Inside lay the single most inspirational person that I have ever had the honor of knowing: my cousin, Ben. Early in his life, Ben had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, an incurable disease known for shifting the realities of those that it infected. Ben was mistreated by his caretaker, leading him to take his life. As I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat, Ben's favorite song began to play: Nirvana's cover of "The Man Who Sold the World". Featuring somber lyrics softened by an f minor scale, the music seemed to linger in the back of my throat, leaving a mellow flavor on my tongue. The more I listened to the song, the more I understood Ben's inner conflict. It was as if he had been speaking through the lyrics, admitting his fears and grievances using Cobain's presence as a metaphor and Bowie's literature as his voice. "Oh no," he sang, "Not me, I never lost control". It pained me to see how a genuinely kind and inspirational person like Ben was mistreated by the people who vowed to help. It brought to light the changes that needed to be made within the world of psychology. Each time I hear this rendition of "The Man Who Sold The World", my mind wanders back to Ben, leaving me face to face with the man who sold my world to Neuroscience, rejuvenating my frustration and determination. Throughout High School, Cobain's voice has played on a loop in my headphones, serenading my ambitions. "The Man Who Sold the World" has played as a backtrack to psychology classes, anatomy study sessions, and even biology projects, slowly bridging from a verse of remembrance into a chorus of passion. I find myself humming the tune as I plan my future, plotting my grand entrance into the psychology textbooks, thirsting to make my mark. My grief must have died alone as it morphed into devotion a long, long time ago. My personal mission is to become a caring and well-rounded healthcare provider, as well as a source of comfort to those in need. I dream to work with individuals with life-changing medical conditions in order to give them hope towards a better and more comfortable future, and to make sure that no patient is left behind when they need care the most. Although “The Man Who Sold the World” will always be a symbol of those that have been lost, I have given it another meaning. Instead of listening with somber ears, I now sit on the edge of my seat, ready to leap after any opportunity that life may present, for I am going to be the one to make a change. Oh yes, it will be me, for I never lost control. You’re face to face with the one that will change the world.

In January of 2023, I sat alone before a casket. Inside lay the single most inspirational person that I have ever had the honor of knowing: my cousin, Ben. Early in his life, Ben had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, an incurable disease known for shifting the realities of those that it infected. Ben was mistreated by his caretaker, leading him to take his life. As I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat, Ben's favorite song began to play: Nirvana's cover of "The Man Who Sold the World". Featuring somber lyrics softened by an f minor scale, the music seemed to linger in the back of my throat, leaving a mellow flavor on my tongue. The more I listened to the song, the more I understood Ben's inner conflict. It was as if he had been speaking through the lyrics, admitting his fears and grievances using Cobain's presence as a metaphor and Bowie's literature as his voice. "Oh no," he sang, "Not me, I never lost control". It pained me to see how a genuinely kind and inspirational person like Ben was mistreated by the people who vowed to help. It brought to light the changes that needed to be made within the world of psychology. Each time I hear this rendition of "The Man Who Sold The World", my mind wanders back to Ben, leaving me face to face with the man who sold my world to Neuroscience, rejuvenating my frustration and determination. Throughout High School, Cobain's voice has played on a loop in my headphones, serenading my ambitions. "The Man Who Sold the World" has played as a backtrack to psychology classes, anatomy study sessions, and even biology projects, slowly bridging from a verse of remembrance into a chorus of passion. I find myself humming the tune as I plan my future, plotting my grand entrance into the psychology textbooks, thirsting to make my mark. My grief must have died alone as it morphed into devotion a long, long time ago. My personal mission is to become a caring and well-rounded healthcare provider, as well as a source of comfort to those in need. I dream to work with individuals with life-changing medical conditions in order to give them hope towards a better and more comfortable future, and to make sure that no patient is left behind when they need care the most. Although “The Man Who Sold the World” will always be a symbol of those that have been lost, I have given it another meaning. Instead of listening with somber ears, I now sit on the edge of my seat, ready to leap after any opportunity that life may present, for I am going to be the one to make a change. Oh yes, it will be me, for I never lost control. You’re face to face with the one that will change the world.

In January of 2023, I sat alone before a casket. Inside lay the single most inspirational person that I have ever had the honor of knowing: my cousin, Ben. Early in his life, Ben had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, an incurable disease known for shifting the realities of those that it infected. Ben was mistreated by his caretaker, leading him to take his life. As I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat, Ben's favorite song began to play: Nirvana's cover of "The Man Who Sold the World". Featuring somber lyrics softened by an f minor scale, the music seemed to linger in the back of my throat, leaving a mellow flavor on my tongue. The more I listened to the song, the more I understood Ben's inner conflict. It was as if he had been speaking through the lyrics, admitting his fears and grievances using Cobain's presence as a metaphor and Bowie's literature as his voice. "Oh no," he sang, "Not me, I never lost control". It pained me to see how a genuinely kind and inspirational person like Ben was mistreated by the people who vowed to help. It brought to light the changes that needed to be made within the world of psychology. Each time I hear this rendition of "The Man Who Sold The World", my mind wanders back to Ben, leaving me face to face with the man who sold my world to Neuroscience, rejuvenating my frustration and determination. Throughout High School, Cobain's voice has played on a loop in my headphones, serenading my ambitions. "The Man Who Sold the World" has played as a backtrack to psychology classes, anatomy study sessions, and even biology projects, slowly bridging from a verse of remembrance into a chorus of passion. I find myself humming the tune as I plan my future, plotting my grand entrance into the psychology textbooks, thirsting to make my mark. My grief must have died alone as it morphed into devotion a long, long time ago. My personal mission is to become a caring and well-rounded healthcare provider, as well as a source of comfort to those in need. I dream to work with individuals with life-changing medical conditions in order to give them hope towards a better and more comfortable future, and to make sure that no patient is left behind when they need care the most. Although “The Man Who Sold the World” will always be a symbol of those that have been lost, I have given it another meaning. Instead of listening with somber ears, I now sit on the edge of my seat, ready to leap after any opportunity that life may present, for I am going to be the one to make a change. Oh yes, it will be me, for I never lost control. You’re face to face with the one that will change the world.

In January of 2023, I sat alone before a casket. Inside lay the single most inspirational person that I have ever had the honor of knowing: my cousin, Ben. Early in his life, Ben had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, an incurable disease known for shifting the realities of those that it infected. Ben was mistreated by his caretaker, leading him to take his life. As I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat, Ben's favorite song began to play: Nirvana's cover of "The Man Who Sold the World". Featuring somber lyrics softened by an f minor scale, the music seemed to linger in the back of my throat, leaving a mellow flavor on my tongue. The more I listened to the song, the more I understood Ben's inner conflict. It was as if he had been speaking through the lyrics, admitting his fears and grievances using Cobain's presence as a metaphor and Bowie's literature as his voice. "Oh no," he sang, "Not me, I never lost control". It pained me to see how a genuinely kind and inspirational person like Ben was mistreated by the people who vowed to help. It brought to light the changes that needed to be made within the world of psychology. Each time I hear this rendition of "The Man Who Sold The World", my mind wanders back to Ben, leaving me face to face with the man who sold my world to Neuroscience, rejuvenating my frustration and determination. Throughout High School, Cobain's voice has played on a loop in my headphones, serenading my ambitions. "The Man Who Sold the World" has played as a backtrack to psychology classes, anatomy study sessions, and even biology projects, slowly bridging from a verse of remembrance into a chorus of passion. I find myself humming the tune as I plan my future, plotting my grand entrance into the psychology textbooks, thirsting to make my mark. My grief must have died alone as it morphed into devotion a long, long time ago. My personal mission is to become a caring and well-rounded healthcare provider, as well as a source of comfort to those in need. I dream to work with individuals with life-changing medical conditions in order to give them hope towards a better and more comfortable future, and to make sure that no patient is left behind when they need care the most. Although “The Man Who Sold the World” will always be a symbol of those that have been lost, I have given it another meaning. Instead of listening with somber ears, I now sit on the edge of my seat, ready to leap after any opportunity that life may present, for I am going to be the one to make a change. Oh yes, it will be me, for I never lost control. You’re face to face with the one that will change the world.

In January of 2023, I sat alone before a casket. Inside lay the single most inspirational person that I have ever had the honor of knowing: my cousin, Ben. Early in his life, Ben had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, an incurable disease known for shifting the realities of those that it infected. Ben was mistreated by his caretaker, leading him to take his life. As I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat, Ben's favorite song began to play: Nirvana's cover of "The Man Who Sold the World". Featuring somber lyrics softened by an f minor scale, the music seemed to linger in the back of my throat, leaving a mellow flavor on my tongue. The more I listened to the song, the more I understood Ben's inner conflict. It was as if he had been speaking through the lyrics, admitting his fears and grievances using Cobain's presence as a metaphor and Bowie's literature as his voice. "Oh no," he sang, "Not me, I never lost control". It pained me to see how a genuinely kind and inspirational person like Ben was mistreated by the people who vowed to help. It brought to light the changes that needed to be made within the world of psychology. Each time I hear this rendition of "The Man Who Sold The World", my mind wanders back to Ben, leaving me face to face with the man who sold my world to Neuroscience, rejuvenating my frustration and determination. Throughout High School, Cobain's voice has played on a loop in my headphones, serenading my ambitions. "The Man Who Sold the World" has played as a backtrack to psychology classes, anatomy study sessions, and even biology projects, slowly bridging from a verse of remembrance into a chorus of passion. I find myself humming the tune as I plan my future, plotting my grand entrance into the psychology textbooks, thirsting to make my mark. My grief must have died alone as it morphed into devotion a long, long time ago. My personal mission is to become a caring and well-rounded healthcare provider, as well as a source of comfort to those in need. I dream to work with individuals with life-changing medical conditions in order to give them hope towards a better and more comfortable future, and to make sure that no patient is left behind when they need care the most. Although “The Man Who Sold the World” will always be a symbol of those that have been lost, I have given it another meaning. Instead of listening with somber ears, I now sit on the edge of my seat, ready to leap after any opportunity that life may present, for I am going to be the one to make a change. Oh yes, it will be me, for I never lost control. You’re face to face with the one that will change the world.

In January of 2023, I sat alone before a casket. Inside lay the single most inspirational person that I have ever had the honor of knowing: my cousin, Ben. Early in his life, Ben had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, an incurable disease known for shifting the realities of those that it infected. Ben was mistreated by his caretaker, leading him to take his life. As I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat, Ben's favorite song began to play: Nirvana's cover of "The Man Who Sold the World". Featuring somber lyrics softened by an f minor scale, the music seemed to linger in the back of my throat, leaving a mellow flavor on my tongue. The more I listened to the song, the more I understood Ben's inner conflict. It was as if he had been speaking through the lyrics, admitting his fears and grievances using Cobain's presence as a metaphor and Bowie's literature as his voice. "Oh no," he sang, "Not me, I never lost control". It pained me to see how a genuinely kind and inspirational person like Ben was mistreated by the people who vowed to help. It brought to light the changes that needed to be made within the world of psychology. Each time I hear this rendition of "The Man Who Sold The World", my mind wanders back to Ben, leaving me face to face with the man who sold my world to Psychology, rejuvenating my frustration and determination. Throughout High School, Cobain's voice has played on a loop in my headphones, serenading my ambitions. "The Man Who Sold the World" has played as a backtrack to psychology classes, anatomy study sessions, and even biology projects, slowly bridging from a verse of remembrance into a chorus of passion. I find myself humming the tune as I plan my future, plotting my grand entrance into the psychology textbooks, thirsting to make my mark. My grief must have died alone as it morphed into devotion a long, long time ago. My personal mission is to become a caring and well-rounded healthcare provider, as well as a source of comfort to those in need. I dream to work with individuals with life-changing medical conditions in order to give them hope towards a better and more comfortable future, and to make sure that no patient is left behind when they need care the most. Although “The Man Who Sold the World” will always be a symbol of those that have been lost, I have given it another meaning. Instead of listening with somber ears, I now sit on the edge of my seat, ready to leap after any opportunity that life may present, for I am going to be the one to make a change. Oh yes, it will be me, for I never lost control. You’re face to face with the one that will change the world.

In January of 2023, I sat alone before a casket. Inside lay the single most inspirational person that I have ever had the honor of knowing: my cousin, Ben. Early in his life, Ben had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, an incurable disease known for shifting the realities of those that it infected. Ben was mistreated by his caretaker, leading him to take his life. As I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat, Ben's favorite song began to play: Nirvana's cover of "The Man Who Sold the World". Featuring somber lyrics softened by an f minor scale, the music seemed to linger in the back of my throat, leaving a mellow flavor on my tongue. The more I listened to the song, the more I understood Ben's inner conflict. It was as if he had been speaking through the lyrics, admitting his fears and grievances using Cobain's presence as a metaphor and Bowie's literature as his voice. "Oh no," he sang, "Not me, I never lost control". It pained me to see how a genuinely kind and inspirational person like Ben was mistreated by the people who vowed to help. It brought to light the changes that needed to be made within the world of psychology. Each time I hear this rendition of "The Man Who Sold The World", my mind wanders back to Ben, leaving me face to face with the man who sold my world to Psychology, rejuvenating my frustration and determination. Throughout High School, Cobain's voice has played on a loop in my headphones, serenading my ambitions. "The Man Who Sold the World" has played as a backtrack to psychology classes, anatomy study sessions, and even biology projects, slowly bridging from a verse of remembrance into a chorus of passion. I find myself humming the tune as I plan my future, plotting my grand entrance into the psychology textbooks, thirsting to make my mark. My grief must have died alone as it morphed into devotion a long, long time ago. My personal mission is to become a caring and well-rounded healthcare provider, as well as a source of comfort to those in need. I dream to work with individuals with life-changing medical conditions in order to give them hope towards a better and more comfortable future, and to make sure that no patient is left behind when they need care the most. Although “The Man Who Sold the World” will always be a symbol of those that have been lost, I have given it another meaning. Instead of listening with somber ears, I now sit on the edge of my seat, ready to leap after any opportunity that life may present, for I am going to be the one to make a change. Oh yes, it will be me, for I never lost control. You’re face to face with the one that will change the world.

In January of 2023, I sat alone before a casket. Inside lay the single most inspirational person that I have ever had the honor of knowing: my cousin, Ben. Early in his life, Ben had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, an incurable disease known for shifting the realities of those that it infected. Ben was mistreated by his caretaker, leading him to take his life. As I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat, Ben's favorite song began to play: Nirvana's cover of "The Man Who Sold the World". Featuring somber lyrics softened by an f minor scale, the music seemed to linger in the back of my throat, leaving a mellow flavor on my tongue. The more I listened to the song, the more I understood Ben's inner conflict. It was as if he had been speaking through the lyrics, admitting his fears and grievances using Cobain's presence as a metaphor and Bowie's literature as his voice. "Oh no," he sang, "Not me, I never lost control". It pained me to see how a genuinely kind and inspirational person like Ben was mistreated by the people who vowed to help. It brought to light the changes that needed to be made within the world of psychology. Each time I hear this rendition of "The Man Who Sold The World", my mind wanders back to Ben, leaving me face to face with the man who sold my world to Neuroscience, rejuvenating my frustration and determination. Throughout High School, Cobain's voice has played on a loop in my headphones, serenading my ambitions. "The Man Who Sold the World" has played as a backtrack to psychology classes, anatomy study sessions, and even biology projects, slowly bridging from a verse of remembrance into a chorus of passion. I find myself humming the tune as I plan my future, plotting my grand entrance into the psychology textbooks, thirsting to make my mark. My grief must have died alone as it morphed into devotion a long, long time ago. Although ambitious, my dream is to become a researcher in the feild of Neuroscience, and make a real difference in the lives of others. I want to make real descoveries that make a change in the lives of others, making sure that nobody gets left behind in the process. Although “The Man Who Sold the World” will always be a symbol of those that have been lost, I have given it another meaning. Instead of listening with somber ears, I now sit on the edge of my seat, ready to leap after any opportunity that life may present, for I am going to be the one to make a change. Oh yes, it will be me, for I never lost control. You’re face to face with the one that will change the world.

In January of 2023, I sat alone before a casket. Inside lay the single most inspirational person that I have ever had the honor of knowing: my cousin, Ben. Early in his life, Ben had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, an incurable disease known for shifting the realities of those that it infected. Ben was mistreated by his caretaker, leading him to take his life. As I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat, Ben's favorite song began to play: Nirvana's cover of "The Man Who Sold the World". Featuring somber lyrics softened by an f minor scale, the music seemed to linger in the back of my throat, leaving a mellow flavor on my tongue. The more I listened to the song, the more I understood Ben's inner conflict. It was as if he had been speaking through the lyrics, admitting his fears and grievances using Cobain's presence as a metaphor and Bowie's literature as his voice. "Oh no," he sang, "Not me, I never lost control". It pained me to see how a genuinely kind and inspirational person like Ben was mistreated by the people who vowed to help. It brought to light the changes that needed to be made within the world of psychology. Each time I hear this rendition of "The Man Who Sold The World", my mind wanders back to Ben, leaving me face to face with the man who sold my world to Neuroscience, rejuvenating my frustration and determination. Throughout High School, Cobain's voice has played on a loop in my headphones, serenading my ambitions. "The Man Who Sold the World" has played as a backtrack to psychology classes, anatomy study sessions, and even biology projects, slowly bridging from a verse of remembrance into a chorus of passion. I find myself humming the tune as I plan my future, plotting my grand entrance into the psychology textbooks, thirsting to make my mark. My grief must have died alone as it morphed into devotion a long, long time ago. Although “The Man Who Sold the World” will always be a symbol of those that have been lost, I have given it another meaning. Instead of listening with somber ears, I now sit on the edge of my seat, ready to leap after any opportunity that life may present, for I am going to be the one to make a change. Oh yes, it will be me, for I never lost control. You’re face to face with the one that will change the world.

In January of 2023, I sat alone before a casket. Inside lay the single most inspirational person that I have ever had the honor of knowing: my cousin, Ben. Early in his life, Ben had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, an incurable disease known for shifting the realities of those that it infected. Ben was mistreated by his caretaker, leading him to take his life. As I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat, Ben's favorite song began to play: Nirvana's cover of "The Man Who Sold the World". Featuring somber lyrics softened by an f minor scale, the music seemed to linger in the back of my throat, leaving a mellow flavor on my tongue. The more I listened to the song, the more I understood Ben's inner conflict. It was as if he had been speaking through the lyrics, admitting his fears and grievances using Cobain's presence as a metaphor and Bowie's literature as his voice. "Oh no," he sang, "Not me, I never lost control". It pained me to see how a genuinely kind and inspirational person like Ben was mistreated by the people who vowed to help. It brought to light the changes that needed to be made within the world of psychology. Each time I hear this rendition of "The Man Who Sold The World", my mind wanders back to Ben, leaving me face to face with the man who sold my world to Psychology, rejuvenating my frustration and determination. Throughout High School, Cobain's voice has played on a loop in my headphones, serenading my ambitions. "The Man Who Sold the World" has played as a backtrack to psychology classes, anatomy study sessions, and even biology projects, slowly bridging from a verse of remembrance into a chorus of passion. I find myself humming the tune as I plan my future, plotting my grand entrance into the psychology textbooks, thirsting to make my mark. My grief must have died alone as it morphed into devotion a long, long time ago. Although “The Man Who Sold the World” will always be a symbol of those that have been lost, I have given it another meaning. Instead of listening with somber ears, I now sit on the edge of my seat, ready to leap after any opportunity that life may present, for I am going to be the one to make a change. Oh yes, it will be me, for I never lost control. You’re face to face with the one that will change the world.

In January of 2023, I sat alone before a casket. Inside lay the single most inspirational person that I have ever had the honor of knowing: my cousin, Ben. Early in his life, Ben had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, an incurable disease known for shifting the realities of those that it infected. Ben was mistreated by his caretaker, leading him to take his life. As I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat, Ben's favorite song began to play: Nirvana's cover of "The Man Who Sold the World". Featuring somber lyrics softened by an f minor scale, the music seemed to linger in the back of my throat, leaving a mellow flavor on my tongue. The more I listened to the song, the more I understood Ben's inner conflict. It was as if he had been speaking through the lyrics, admitting his fears and grievances using Cobain's presence as a metaphor and Bowie's literature as his voice. "Oh no," he sang, "Not me, I never lost control". It pained me to see how a genuinely kind and inspirational person like Ben was mistreated by the people who vowed to help. It brought to light the changes that needed to be made within the world of psychology. Each time I hear this rendition of "The Man Who Sold The World", my mind wanders back to Ben, leaving me face to face with the man who sold my world to Psychology, rejuvenating my frustration and determination. Throughout High School, Cobain's voice has played on a loop in my headphones, serenading my ambitions. "The Man Who Sold the World" has played as a backtrack to psychology classes, anatomy study sessions, and even biology projects, slowly bridging from a verse of remembrance into a chorus of passion. I find myself humming the tune as I plan my future, plotting my grand entrance into the psychology textbooks, thirsting to make my mark. My grief must have died alone as it morphed into devotion a long, long time ago. Although “The Man Who Sold the World” will always be a symbol of those that have been lost, I have given it another meaning. Instead of listening with somber ears, I now sit on the edge of my seat, ready to leap after any opportunity that life may present, for I am going to be the one to make a change. Oh yes, it will be me, for I never lost control. You’re face to face with the one that will change the world.

My whole life, I have been drawn to the water. Something about the way that every small movement makes the water ripple and how every tiny splash makes the surface shimmer has always lured me in, pulling me into the depths. From a young age, I was always in the water, asking to swim, begging for a little more time in the pool. My mother used to call me her little polar bear because I would sit there insisting on staying in the water until every muscle in my body shivered. It wasn’t until I turned eleven that my mother finally put me on my first club team. I swam for an age group team for three years until I came of age to join the High school team. At that point, the 500 free had become my whole life, taking over my training, diet, and sleep schedule. I swam all distance events aside from a few relays, often finishing my 500 just to get back on the block for my 200 relays, still panting but eager to get back in. On top of competitions, I also began lifeguarding and teaching swimming lessons for the YMCA around a year ago, where I have accumulated around eight saves and dozens of students. While I have always loved swimming, teaching others to swim has felt like a new purpose. This love for teaching water safety blossomed from one student in particular. A few months into my lessons journey, I began teaching private lessons to a young boy named Stephen. Stephen was always a lot to handle, running, jumping, and crawling around as he gained confidence in the water, so I decided to take a less traditional approach to his lessons, roaming the pool and incorporating key lesson topics into games and activities to keep his playful spirit engaged. A few weeks passed, and Stephen had made amazing strides towards water safety. One day after our lesson, Stephen’s mother gave me a great big hug and thanked me for working with him. At this time, she disclosed to me that Stephen had been being bullied at school because he struggled to sit still, and every day he would come home asking if he could go swimming with Miss Maci. Although I will always have a racer’s heart, it is moments like this that make me forever grateful that I chose to slow it down and teach others to love this great blue world of aquatics.

The Man Who Sold The World Macilynn Shaffer In January of 2023, I sat alone before a casket. Inside lay the single most inspirational person that I have ever had the honor of knowing: my cousin, Ben. Early in his life, Ben had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, an incurable disease known for shifting the realities of those that it infected. Ben was mistreated by his caretaker, leading him to take his life. As I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat, Ben's favorite song began to play: Nirvana's cover of "The Man Who Sold the World". Featuring somber lyrics softened by an f minor scale, the music seemed to linger in the back of my throat, leaving a mellow flavor on my tongue. The more I listened to the song, the more I understood Ben's inner conflict. It was as if he had been speaking through the lyrics, admitting his fears and grievances using Cobain's presence as a metaphor and Bowie's literature as his voice. "Oh no," he sang, "Not me, I never lost control". It pained me to see how a genuinely kind and inspirational person like Ben was mistreated by the people who vowed to help. It brought to light the changes that needed to be made within the world of psychology. Each time I hear this rendition of "The Man Who Sold The World", my mind wanders back to Ben, leaving me face to face with the man who sold my world to Psychology, rejuvenating my frustration and determination. Throughout High School, Cobain's voice has played on a loop in my headphones, serenading my ambitions. "The Man Who Sold the World" has played as a backtrack to psychology classes, anatomy study sessions, and even biology projects, slowly bridging from a verse of remembrance into a chorus of passion. I find myself humming the tune as I plan my future, plotting my grand entrance into the psychology textbooks, thirsting to make my mark. My grief must have died alone as it morphed into devotion a long, long time ago. Although “The Man Who Sold the World” will always be a symbol of those that have been lost, I have given it another meaning. Instead of listening with somber ears, I now sit on the edge of my seat, ready to leap after any opportunity that life may present, for I am going to be the one to make a change. Oh yes, it will be me, for I never lost control. You’re face to face with the one that will change the world.

Despite increasing access to mental health resources, hundreds of people around the world continue to struggle, whether it be from the lack of resources in their area, or even just the stigma that has formed around asking for help. Over the years, my family and I have been impacted differently by mental health issues and the stigma surrounding them. I firmly believe that while we have come a long way in destigmatizing mental health and all of its flaws, we still have such a long way to go, and I believe that I can make a difference in the lives of others by providing this care. Throughout my life thus far, I have had my fair share of mental turmoil. I was diagnosed with a generalized anxiety disorder around the age of twelve, and I have been fighting for the ability to feel comfortable leaving my house for years. Over the past few years, I have made an extreme amount of progress toward this goal. Although I am still an anxious person, I have grown to be more comfortable being in public. I can maintain a job, drive, join social clubs and sports, and more. So much of this progress can be attributed to my access to therapy and other resources. If I had not had access to mental care such as therapy and testing through my doctor’s office, I would not have made it as far in life as I have. Having access to mental health resources has made it possible for me to recover from past traumas, overcome anxiety, and just be comfortable existing in social settings. I have seen and experienced the long-lasting effects of suffering from mental disorders and complications, and I have made it my mission to make an impact in the world of mental health. My experiences have led me to crave change, and I aspire to become a neurologist. My dream is to not only help people and fight the stigma and lack of mental health resources but also to open my private practice one day. My mission is to help people overcome mental disorders just as I have done but also to help people: my mission is to help people who have lost hope, people who have great potential, people who mean something to others but are too lost in their heads to see that. Although my mission is achievable, I cannot do it alone. To achieve this goal, I need a strong education that will help me achieve my only goal: Helping other people who need it, people who are not as fortunate as me.

Despite increasing access to mental health resources, hundreds of people around the world continue to struggle, whether it be from the lack of resources in their area, or even just the stigma that has formed around asking for help. Over the years, my family and I have been impacted differently by mental health issues and the stigma surrounding them. I firmly believe that while we have come a long way in destigmatizing mental health and all of its flaws, we still have such a long way to go, and I believe that I can make a difference in the lives of others by providing this care. Over the years, my family has had an extensive history of mental health issues and needs. Most notably, my family lost my cousin Ben to suicide this past year. He struggled with depression and anxiety for most of his life, leading him to turn to drug use. Although he started with marijuana and alcohol, he eventually spiraled into using harder substances, leading him to develop paranoid schizophrenia. He battled for years to overcome his drug abuse and the mental health problems that came with them, but it all became too much for him. His death was a tragedy that affected our whole family, as we all stood by his side for his journey. His death impacted my way of thinking a lot. Looking at photos of his life, I could see a lot of myself in him, especially through his teenage years. He looked like me, acted like me, and he even had a friend group that resembled mine. I could have ended up just like him with just a few different decisions. Overall, Ben’s life could have been great. He was an artist and a devoted Christian with so much potential. If he had been granted access to proper care and the resources he deserved, his life could have been redirected. It is people like Ben who make it clear how important access to mental health resources is. Something as simple as access to mental health resources can save a life. I have seen and experienced the long-lasting effects of suffering from mental disorders and complications, and I have made it my mission to make an impact in the world of mental health. My experiences have led me to crave change, and I aspire to become a psychiatrist. My dream is to not only help people and fight the stigma and lack of mental health resources but also to open my private practice one day. My mission is to help people overcome mental disorders just as I have done but also to help people like Ben: my mission is to help people who have lost hope, people who have great potential, people who mean something to others but are too lost in their heads to see that. Although my mission is achievable, I cannot do it alone. To achieve this goal, I need a strong education that will help me achieve my only goal: Helping other people who need it, people who are not as fortunate as me.

Despite increasing access to mental health resources, hundreds of people around the world continue to struggle, whether it be from the lack of resources in their area, or even just the stigma that has formed around asking for help. Over the years, my family and I have been impacted differently by mental health issues and the stigma surrounding them. I firmly believe that while we have come a long way in destigmatizing mental health and all of its flaws, we still have such a long way to go, and I believe that I can make a difference in the lives of others by providing this care. Over the years, my family has had an extensive history of mental health issues and needs. Most notably, my family lost my cousin Ben to suicide this past year. He struggled with depression and anxiety for most of his life, leading him to turn to drug use. Although he started with marijuana and alcohol, he eventually spiraled into using harder substances, leading him to develop paranoid schizophrenia. He battled for years to overcome his drug abuse and the mental health problems that came with them, but it all became too much for him. His death was a tragedy that affected our whole family, as we all stood by his side for his journey. His death impacted my way of thinking a lot. Looking at photos of his life, I could see a lot of myself in him, especially through his teenage years. He looked like me, acted like me, and he even had a friend group that resembled mine. With just a few different decisions, I could have ended up just like him. Overall, Ben’s life could have been something great -- He was an artist and a devoted Christian with so much potential. If he had been granted access to proper care and the resources he deserved, his life could have been redirected. It is people like Ben who make it clear how important access to mental health resources is. Something as simple as access to mental health resources can save a life. I have seen and experienced the long-lasting effects of suffering from mental disorders and complications, and I have made it my mission to make an impact in the world of mental health. My experiences have led me to crave change, and I aspire to become a psychiatrist. My dream is to not only help people and fight the stigma and lack of mental health resources but also to open my private practice one day. My mission to help people overcome mental disorders just as I have done but also to help people like Ben: my mission is to help people who have lost hope, people who have great potential, people who mean something to others but are too lost in their heads to see that. Although my mission is achievable, I cannot do it alone. To achieve this goal,I need a strong education that will help me achieve my only goal: Helping other people who need it, people who were not as fortunate as me.

In January of 2023, I sat alone before a casket. Inside lay the single most inspirational person that I have ever had the honor of knowing: my cousin, Ben. Early in his life, Ben had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, an incurable disease known for shifting the realities of those that it infected. Ben was mistreated by his caretaker, leading him to take his life. As I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat, Ben's favorite song began to play: Nirvana's cover of "The Man Who Sold the World". Featuring somber lyrics softened by an f minor scale, the music seemed to linger in the back of my throat, leaving a mellow flavor on my tongue. The more I listened to the song, the more I understood Ben's inner conflict. It was as if he had been speaking through the lyrics, admitting his fears and grievances using Cobain's presence as a metaphor and Bowie's literature as his voice. "Oh no," he sang, "Not me, I never lost control". It pained me to see how a genuinely kind and inspirational person like Ben was mistreated by the people who vowed to help. It brought to light the changes that needed to be made within the world of psychology. Each time I hear this rendition of "The Man Who Sold The World", my mind wanders back to Ben, leaving me face to face with the man who sold my world to Psychology, rejuvenating my frustration and determination. Through High School, Cobain's voice has played on a loop in my headphones, serenading my ambitions. "The Man Who Sold the World" has played as a backtrack to psychology classes, anatomy study sessions, and even biology projects, slowly bridging from a verse of remembrance into a chorus of passion. I find myself humming the tune as I plan my future, plotting my grand entrance into the psychology textbooks, thirsting to make my mark. My grief must have died alone as it morphed into devotion a long, long time ago. Although “The Man Who Sold the World” will always be a symbol of those that have been lost, I have given it another meaning. Instead of listening with somber ears, I now sit on the edge of my seat, ready to leap after any opportunity that life may present, for I am going to be the one to make a change. Oh yes, it will be me, for I never lost control. You’re face to face with the one that will change the world.

In January of 2023, I sat alone before a casket. Inside lay the single most inspirational person that I have ever had the honor of knowing: my cousin, Ben. Early in his life, Ben had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, an incurable disease known for shifting the realities of those that it infected. Ben was mistreated by his caretaker, leading him to take his life. As I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat, Ben's favorite song began to play: Nirvana's cover of "The Man Who Sold the World". Featuring somber lyrics softened by an f minor scale, the music seemed to linger in the back of my throat, leaving a mellow flavor on my tongue. The more I listened to the song, the more I understood Ben's inner conflict. It was as if he had been speaking through the lyrics, admitting his fears and grievances using Cobain's presence as a metaphor and Bowie's literature as his voice. "Oh no," he sang, "Not me, I never lost control". It pained me to see how a genuinely kind and inspirational person like Ben was mistreated by the people who vowed to help. It brought to light the changes that needed to be made within the world of psychology. Each time I hear this rendition of "The Man Who Sold The World", my mind wanders back to Ben, leaving me face to face with the man who sold my world to Psychology, rejuvenating my frustration and determination. Through High School, Cobain's voice has played on a loop in my headphones, serenading my ambitions. "The Man Who Sold the World" has played as a backtrack to psychology classes, anatomy study sessions, and even biology projects, slowly bridging from a verse of remembrance into a chorus of passion. I find myself humming the tune as I plan my future, plotting my grand entrance into the psychology textbooks, thirsting to make my mark. My grief must have died alone as it morphed into devotion a long, long time ago. Although “The Man Who Sold the World” will always be a symbol of those that have been lost, I have given it another meaning. Instead of listening with somber ears, I now sit on the edge of my seat, ready to leap after any opportunity that life may present, for I am going to be the one to make a change. Oh yes, it will be me, for I never lost control. You’re face to face with the one that will change the world.

In January of 2023, I sat alone before a casket. Inside lay the single most inspirational person that I have ever had the honor of knowing: my cousin, Ben. Early in his life, Ben had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, an incurable disease known for shifting the realities of those that it infected. Ben was mistreated by his caretaker, leading him to take his life. As I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat, Ben's favorite song began to play: Nirvana's cover of "The Man Who Sold the World". Featuring somber lyrics softened by an f minor scale, the music seemed to linger in the back of my throat, leaving a mellow flavor on my tongue. The more I listened to the song, the more I understood Ben's inner conflict. It was as if he had been speaking through the lyrics, admitting his fears and grievances using Cobain's presence as a metaphor and Bowie's literature as his voice. "Oh no," he sang, "Not me, I never lost control". It pained me to see how a genuinely kind and inspirational person like Ben was mistreated by the people who vowed to help. It brought to light the changes that needed to be made within the world of psychology. Each time I hear this rendition of "The Man Who Sold The World", my mind wanders back to Ben, leaving me face to face with the man who sold my world to Psychology, rejuvenating my frustration and determination. Through High School, Cobain's voice has played on a loop in my headphones, serenading my ambitions. "The Man Who Sold the World" has played as a backtrack to psychology classes, anatomy study sessions, and even biology projects, slowly bridging from a verse of remembrance into a chorus of passion. I find myself humming the tune as I plan my future, plotting my grand entrance into the psychology textbooks, thirsting to make my mark. My grief must have died alone as it morphed into devotion a long, long time ago. Although “The Man Who Sold the World” will always be a symbol of those that have been lost, I have given it another meaning. Instead of listening with somber ears, I now sit on the edge of my seat, ready to leap after any opportunity that life may present, for I am going to be the one to make a change. Oh yes, it will be me, for I never lost control. You’re face to face with the one that will change the world.

In January of 2023, I sat alone before a casket. Inside lay the single most inspirational person that I have ever had the honor of knowing: my cousin, Ben. Early in his life, Ben had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, an incurable disease known for shifting the realities of those that it infected. Ben was mistreated by his caretaker, leading him to take his life. As I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat, Ben's favorite song began to play: Nirvana's cover of "The Man Who Sold the World". Featuring somber lyrics softened by an f minor scale, the music seemed to linger in the back of my throat, leaving a mellow flavor on my tongue. The more I listened to the song, the more I understood Ben's inner conflict. It was as if he had been speaking through the lyrics, admitting his fears and grievances using Cobain's presence as a metaphor and Bowie's literature as his voice. "Oh no," he sang, "Not me, I never lost control". It pained me to see how a genuinely kind and inspirational person like Ben was mistreated by the people who vowed to help. It brought to light the changes that needed to be made within the world of psychology. Each time I hear this rendition of "The Man Who Sold The World", my mind wanders back to Ben, leaving me face to face with the man who sold my world to Psychology, rejuvenating my frustration and determination. Throught High School, Cobain's voice has played on a loop in my headphones, serenading my ambitions. "The Man Who Sold the World" has played as a backtrack to psychology classes, anatomy study sessions, and even biology projects, slowly bridging from a verse of remembrance into a chorus of passion. I find myself humming the tune as I plan my future, plotting my grand entrance into the psychology textbooks, thirsting to make my mark. My grief must have died alone as it morphed into devotion a long, long time ago. Although “The Man Who Sold the World” will always be a symbol of those that have been lost, I have given it another meaning. Instead of listening with somber ears, I now sit on the edge of my seat, ready to leap after any opportunity that life may present, for I am going to be the one to make a change. Oh yes, it will be me, for I never lost control. You’re face to face with the one that will change the world.

In January of 2023, I sat alone before a casket. Inside lay the single most inspirational person that I have ever had the honor of knowing: my cousin, Ben. Early in his life, Ben had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, an incurable disease known for shifting the realities of those that it infected. Ben was mistreated by his caretaker, leading him to take his life. As I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat, Ben's favorite song began to play: Nirvana's cover of "The Man Who Sold the World". Featuring somber lyrics softened by an f minor scale, the music seemed to linger in the back of my throat, leaving a mellow flavor on my tongue. The more I listened to the song, the more I understood Ben's inner conflict. It was as if he had been speaking through the lyrics, admitting his fears and grievances using Cobain's presence as a metaphor and Bowie's literature as his voice. "Oh no," he sang, "Not me, I never lost control". It pained me to see how a genuinely kind and inspirational person like Ben was mistreated by the people who vowed to help. It brought to light the changes that needed to be made within the world of psychology. Each time I hear this rendition of "The Man Who Sold The World", my mind wanders back to Ben, leaving me face to face with the man who sold my world to Psychology, rejuvenating my frustration and determination. Throught High School, Cobain's voice has played on a loop in my headphones, serenading my ambitions. "The Man Who Sold the World" has played as a backtrack to psychology classes, anatomy study sessions, and even biology projects, slowly bridging from a verse of remembrance into a chorus of passion. I find myself humming the tune as I plan my future, plotting my grand entrance into the psychology textbooks, thirsting to make my mark. My grief must have died alone as it morphed into devotion a long, long time ago. Although “The Man Who Sold the World” will always be a symbol of those that have been lost, I have given it another meaning. Instead of listening with somber ears, I now sit on the edge of my seat, ready to leap after any opportunity that life may present, for I am going to be the one to make a change. Oh yes, it will be me, for I never lost control. You’re face to face with the one that will change the world.

In January of 2023, I sat alone before a casket. Inside lay the single most inspirational person that I have ever had the honor of knowing: my cousin, Ben. Early in his life, Ben had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, an incurable disease known for shifting the realities of those that it infected. Ben was mistreated by his caretaker, leading him to take his life. As I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat, Ben's favorite song began to play: Nirvana's cover of "The Man Who Sold the World". Featuring somber lyrics softened by an f minor scale, the music seemed to linger in the back of my throat, leaving a mellow flavor on my tongue. The more I listened to the song, the more I understood Ben's inner conflict. It was as if he had been speaking through the lyrics, admitting his fears and grievances using Cobain's presence as a metaphor and Bowie's literature as his voice. "Oh no," he sang, "Not me, I never lost control". It pained me to see how a genuinely kind and inspirational person like Ben was mistreated by the people who vowed to help. It brought to light the changes that needed to be made within the world of psychology. Each time I hear this rendition of "The Man Who Sold The World", my mind wanders back to Ben, leaving me face to face with the man who sold my world to Psychology, rejuvenating my frustration and determination. Throught High School, Cobain's voice has played on a loop in my headphones, serenading my ambitions. "The Man Who Sold the World" has played as a backtrack to psychology classes, anatomy study sessions, and even biology projects, slowly bridging from a verse of remembrance into a chorus of passion. I find myself humming the tune as I plan my future, plotting my grand entrance into the psychology textbooks, thirsting to make my mark. My grief must have died alone as it morphed into devotion a long, long time ago. Although “The Man Who Sold the World” will always be a symbol of those that have been lost, I have given it another meaning. Instead of listening with somber ears, I now sit on the edge of my seat, ready to leap after any opportunity that life may present, for I am going to be the one to make a change. Oh yes, it will be me, for I never lost control. You’re face to face with the one that will change the world.

Despite increasing access to mental health resources, hundreds of people around the world continue to struggle, whether it be from the lack of resources in their area, or even just the stigma that has formed around asking for help. Over the years, my family and I have been impacted differently by mental health issues and the stigma surrounding them. I firmly believe that while we have come a long way in destigmatizing mental health and all of its flaws, we still have such a long way to go, and I believe that I can make a difference in the lives of others by providing this care. Over the years, my family has had an extensive history of mental health issues and needs. Most notably, my family lost my cousin Ben to suicide this past year. He struggled with depression and anxiety for most of his life, leading him to turn to drug use. Although he started with marijuana and alcohol, he eventually spiraled into using harder substances, leading him to develop paranoid schizophrenia. He battled for years to overcome his drug abuse and the mental health problems that came with them, but it all became too much for him. His death was a tragedy that affected our whole family, as we all stood by his side for his journey. His death impacted my way of thinking a lot. Looking at photos of his life, I could see a lot of myself in him, especially through his teenage years. He looked like me, acted like me, and he even had a friend group that resembled mine. With just a few different decisions, I could have ended up just like him. Overall, Ben’s life could have been something great -- He was an artist and a devoted Christian with so much potential. If he had been granted access to proper care and the resources he deserved, his life could have been redirected. It is people like Ben who make it clear how important access to mental health resources is. Something as simple as access to mental health resources can save a life. I have seen and experienced the long-lasting effects of suffering from mental disorders and complications, and I have made it my mission to make an impact in the world of mental health. My experiences have led me to crave change, and I aspire to become a psychiatrist. My dream is to not only help people and fight the stigma and lack of mental health resources but also to open my private practice one day. My mission to help people overcome mental disorders just as I have done but also to help people like Ben: my mission is to help people who have lost hope, people who have great potential, people who mean something to others but are too lost in their heads to see that. Although my mission is achievable, I cannot do it alone. To achieve this goal, I need a strong education that will help me achieve my only goal: Helping other people who need it, people who were not as fortunate as me.

Despite increasing access to mental health resources, hundreds of people around the world continue to struggle, whether it be from the lack of resources in their area, or even just the stigma that has formed around asking for help. Over the years, my family and I have been impacted differently by mental health issues and the stigma surrounding them. I firmly believe that while we have come a long way in destigmatizing mental health and all of its flaws, we still have such a long way to go, and I believe that I can make a difference in the lives of others by providing this care. Throughout my life thus far, I have had my fair share of mental turmoil. I was diagnosed with a generalized anxiety disorder around the age of twelve, and I have been fighting for the ability to feel comfortable leaving my house for years. Over the past few years, I have made an extreme amount of progress toward this goal. Although I am still an anxious person, I have grown to be more comfortable being in public. I can maintain a job, drive, join social clubs and sports, and more. So much of this progress can be attributed to my access to therapy and other resources. If I had not had access to mental care such as therapy and testing through my doctor’s office, I would not have made it as far in life as I have. Having access to mental health resources has made it possible for me to recover from past traumas, overcome anxiety, and just be comfortable existing in social settings. Over the years, my family has had an extensive history of mental health issues and needs. Most notably, my family lost my cousin Ben to suicide this past year. He struggled with depression and anxiety for most of his life, leading him to turn to drug use. Although he started with marijuana and alcohol, he eventually spiraled into using harder substances, leading him to develop paranoid schizophrenia. He battled for years to overcome his drug abuse and the mental health problems that came with them, but it all became too much for him. His death was a tragedy that affected our whole family, as we all stood by his side for his journey. His death impacted my way of thinking a lot. Looking at photos of his life, I could see a lot of myself in him, especially through his teenage years. He looked like me, acted like me, and he even had a friend group that resembled mine. With just a few different decisions, I could have ended up just like him. Overall, Ben’s life could have been something great -- He was an artist and a devoted Christian with so much potential. If he had been granted access to proper care and the resources he deserved, his life could have been redirected. It is people like Ben who make it clear how important access to mental health resources is. Something as simple as access to mental health resources can save a life.

In January of 2023, I sat alone before a casket. Inside lay the single most inspirational person that I have ever had the honor of knowing: my cousin, Ben. Early in his life, Ben had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, an incurable disease known for shifting the realities of those that it infected. Ben was mistreated by his caretaker, leading him to take his life. As I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat, Ben's favorite song began to play: Nirvana's cover of "The Man Who Sold the World". Featuring somber lyrics softened by an f minor scale, the music seemed to linger in the back of my throat, leaving a mellow flavor on my tongue. The more I listened to the song, the more I understood Ben's inner conflict. It was as if he had been speaking through the lyrics, admitting his fears and grievances using Cobain's presence as a metaphor and Bowie's literature as his voice. "Oh no," he sang, "Not me, I never lost control". It pained me to see how a genuinely kind and inspirational person like Ben was mistreated by the people who vowed to help. It brought to light the changes that needed to be made within the world of psychology. Each time I hear this rendition of "The Man Who Sold The World", my mind wanders back to Ben, leaving me face to face with the man who sold my world to Psychology, rejuvenating my frustration and determination. Through High School, Cobain's voice has played on a loop in my headphones, serenading my ambitions. "The Man Who Sold the World" has played as a backtrack to psychology classes, anatomy study sessions, and even biology projects, slowly bridging from a verse of remembrance into a chorus of passion. I find myself humming the tune as I plan my future, plotting my grand entrance into the psychology textbooks, thirsting to make my mark. My grief must have died alone as it morphed into devotion a long, long time ago. Although “The Man Who Sold the World” will always be a symbol of those that have been lost, I have given it another meaning. Instead of listening with somber ears, I now sit on the edge of my seat, ready to leap after any opportunity that life may present, for I am going to be the one to make a change. Oh yes, it will be me, for I never lost control. You’re face to face with the one that will change the world.

In January of 2023, I sat alone before a casket. Inside lay the single most inspirational person that I ever had the honor of knowing: my cousin, Ben. Early in his life, Ben had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, an uncurable disease that notoriously shifted the reality of those that it infected. Ben was mistreated by his caretaker, leading him to take his life. As I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat, Ben's favorite song began to play: Nirvana's cover of "The Man Who Sold the World". Featuring somber lyrics softened by an f minor scale, the music seemed to linger in the back of my throat, leaving a mellow flavor on my tongue. The more I listened to the song, the more I understood Ben's inner conflict. It was as if he had been speaking through the lyrics, admitting his fears and grievances using Cobain's presence as a metaphor and Bowie's literature as his voice. "Oh no," he whispered, "Not me, I never lost control". It physically pained me to see how a genuinely kind and inspirational person like Ben was mistreated by the people who vowed to help. It brought to light the changes that needed to be made within the world of psychology, and I was going to be the person to correct it. Each time I hear this rendition of "The Man Who Sold The World", my mind wanders back to Ben, leaving me face to face with the man who sold my world to Psychology, rejuvenating my frustration and determination. Over the years, Cobain's voice has played on a loop in my headphones, serenading my ambitions. "The Man Who Sold the World" has played as a backtrack to psych classes, anatomy study sessions, and even biology projects, slowly warping from a memorial of the one that I lost into my drive into the world of psychology. I find myself humming the tune as I plan my future, plotting my grand entrance into the psychology textbooks, thirsting to make my mark. My grief must have died alone, as it morphed into devotion a long, long time ago. Although “The Man Who Sold the World” will always be a symbol of those that have been lost, I have given it another meaning. Instead of listening with somber ears, I now sit on the edge of my seat, ready to leap after any opportunity that life may present, for I am going to be the one to make a change. Oh yes, it will be me, for I never lost control. You’re face to face with the one that will sell the world.

In January of 2023, I sat alone before a casket. Inside lay the single most inspirational person that I ever had the honor of knowing: my cousin, Ben. Early in his life, Ben had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, an uncurable disease that notoriously shifted the reality of those that it infected. Ben was mistreated by his caretaker, leading him to take his life. As I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat, Ben's favorite song began to play: Nirvana's cover of "The Man Who Sold the World". Featuring somber lyrics softened by an f minor scale, the music seemed to linger in the back of my throat, leaving a mellow flavor on my tongue. The more I listened to the song, the more I understood Ben's inner conflict. It was as if he had been speaking through the lyrics, admitting his fears and grievances using Cobain's presence as a metaphor and Bowie's literature as his voice. "Oh no," he whispered, "Not me, I never lost control". It physically pained me to see how a genuinely kind and inspirational person like Ben was mistreated by the people who vowed to help. It brought to light the changes that needed to be made within the world of psychology, and I was going to be the person to correct it. Each time I hear this rendition of "The Man Who Sold The World", my mind wanders back to Ben, leaving me face to face with the man who sold my world to Psychology, rejuvenating my frustration and determination. Over the years, Cobain's voice has played on a loop in my headphones, serenading my ambitions. "The Man Who Sold the World" has played as a backtrack to psych classes, anatomy study sessions, and even biology projects, slowly warping from a memorial of the one that I lost into my drive into the world of psychology. I find myself humming the tune as I plan my future, plotting my grand entrance into the psychology textbooks, thirsting to make my mark. My grief must have died alone, as it morphed into devotion a long, long time ago. Although “The Man Who Sold the World” will always be a symbol of those that have been lost, I have given it another meaning. Instead of listening with somber ears, I now sit on the edge of my seat, ready to leap after any opportunity that life may present, for I am going to be the one to make a change. Oh yes, it will be me, for I never lost control. You’re face to face with the one that will sell the world.

In January of 2023, I sat alone before a casket. Inside lay the single most inspirational person that I ever had the honor of knowing: my cousin, Ben. Early in his life, Ben had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, an uncurable disease that notoriously shifted the reality of those that it infected. Ben was mistreated by his caretaker, leading him to take his life. As I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat, Ben's favorite song began to play: Nirvana's cover of "The Man Who Sold the World". Featuring somber lyrics softened by an f minor scale, the music seemed to linger in the back of my throat, leaving a mellow flavor on my tongue. The more I listened to the song, the more I understood Ben's inner conflict. It was as if he had been speaking through the lyrics, admitting his fears and grievances using Cobain's presence as a metaphor and Bowie's literature as his voice. "Oh no," he whispered, "Not me, I never lost control". It physically pained me to see how a genuinely kind and inspirational person like Ben was mistreated by the people who vowed to help. It brought to light the changes that needed to be made within the world of psychology, and I was going to be the person to correct it. Each time I hear this rendition of "The Man Who Sold The World", my mind wanders back to Ben, leaving me face to face with the man who sold my world to Psychology, rejuvenating my frustration and determination. Over the years, Cobain's voice has played on a loop in my headphones, serenading my ambitions. "The Man Who Sold the World" has played as a backtrack to psych classes, anatomy study sessions, and even biology projects, slowly warping from a memorial of the one that I lost into my drive into the world of psychology. I find myself humming the tune as I plan my future, plotting my grand entrance into the psychology textbooks, thirsting to make my mark. My grief must have died alone, as it morphed into devotion a long, long time ago. Although “The Man Who Sold the World” will always be a symbol of those that have been lost, I have given it another meaning. Instead of listening with somber ears, I now sit on the edge of my seat, ready to leap after any opportunity that life may present, for I am going to be the one to make a change. Oh yes, it will be me, for I never lost control. You’re face to face with the one that will sell the world.

Despite increasing access to mental health resources, hundreds of people around the world continue to struggle, whether it be from the lack of resources in their area, or even just the stigma that has formed around asking for help. Over the years, my family and I have been impacted differently by mental health issues and the stigma surrounding them. I firmly believe that while we have come a long way in destigmatizing mental health and all of its flaws, we still have such a long way to go, and I believe that I can make a difference in the lives of others by providing this care. Throughout my life thus far, I have had my fair share of mental turmoil. I was diagnosed with a generalized anxiety disorder around the age of twelve, and I have been fighting for the ability to feel comfortable leaving my house for years. Over the past few years, I have made an extreme amount of progress toward this goal. Although I am still an anxious person, I have grown to be more comfortable being in public. I can maintain a job, drive, join social clubs and sports, and more. So much of this progress can be attributed to my access to therapy and other resources. If I had not had access to mental care such as therapy and testing through my doctor’s office, I would not have made it as far in life as I have. Having access to mental health resources has made it possible for me to recover from past traumas, overcome anxiety, and just be comfortable existing in social settings. Over the years, my family has had an extensive history of mental health issues and needs. Most notably, my family lost my cousin Ben to suicide this past year. He struggled with depression and anxiety for most of his life, leading him to turn to drug use. Although he started with marijuana and alcohol, he eventually spiraled into using harder substances, leading him to develop paranoid schizophrenia. He battled for years to overcome his drug abuse and the mental health problems that came with them, but it all became too much for him. His death was a tragedy that affected our whole family, as we all stood by his side for his journey. His death impacted my way of thinking a lot. Looking at photos of his life, I could see a lot of myself in him, especially through his teenage years. He looked like me, acted like me, and he even had a friend group that resembled mine. With just a few different decisions, I could have ended up just like him. Overall, Ben’s life could have been something great -- He was an artist and a devoted Christian with so much potential. If he had been granted access to proper care and the resources he deserved, his life could have been redirected. It is people like Ben who make it clear how important access to mental health resources is. Something as simple as access to mental health resources can save a life. I have seen and experienced the long-lasting effects of suffering from mental disorders and complications, and I have made it my mission to make an impact in the world of mental health. My experiences have led me to crave change, and I aspire to become a psychiatrist. My dream is to not only help people and fight the stigma and lack of mental health resources but also to open my private practice one day. My mission to help people overcome mental disorders just as I have done but also to help people like Ben: my mission is to help people who have lost hope, people who have great potential, people who mean something to others but are too lost in their heads to see that. Although my mission is achievable, I cannot do it alone. To achieve this goal, I need a strong education that will help me achieve my only goal: Helping other people who need it, people who were not as fortunate as me.

Despite increasing access to mental health resources, hundreds of people around the world continue to struggle, whether it be from the lack of resources in their area, or even just the stigma that has formed around asking for help. Over the years, my family and I have been impacted differently by mental health issues and the stigma surrounding them. I firmly believe that while we have come a long way in destigmatizing mental health and all of its flaws, we still have such a long way to go, and I believe that I can make a difference in the lives of others by providing this care. Throughout my life thus far, I have had my fair share of mental turmoil. I was diagnosed with a generalized anxiety disorder around the age of twelve, and I have been fighting for the ability to feel comfortable leaving my house for years. Over the past few years, I have made an extreme amount of progress toward this goal. Although I am still an anxious person, I have grown to be more comfortable being in public. I can maintain a job, drive, join social clubs and sports, and more. So much of this progress can be attributed to my access to therapy and other resources. If I had not had access to mental care such as therapy and testing through my doctor’s office, I would not have made it as far in life as I have. Having access to mental health resources has made it possible for me to recover from past traumas, overcome anxiety, and just be comfortable existing in social settings. Over the years, my family has had an extensive history of mental health issues and needs. Most notably, my family lost my cousin Ben to suicide this past year. He struggled with depression and anxiety for most of his life, leading him to turn to drug use. Although he started with marijuana and alcohol, he eventually spiraled into using harder substances, leading him to develop paranoid schizophrenia. He battled for years to overcome his drug abuse and the mental health problems that came with them, but it all became too much for him. His death was a tragedy that affected our whole family, as we all stood by his side for his journey. His death impacted my way of thinking a lot. Looking at photos of his life, I could see a lot of myself in him, especially through his teenage years. He looked like me, acted like me, and he even had a friend group that resembled mine. With just a few different decisions, I could have ended up just like him. Overall, Ben’s life could have been something great -- He was an artist and a devoted Christian with so much potential. If he had been granted access to proper care and the resources he deserved, his life could have been redirected. It is people like Ben who make it clear how important access to mental health resources is. Something as simple as access to mental health resources can save a life. I have seen and experienced the long-lasting effects of suffering from mental disorders and complications, and I have made it my mission to make an impact in the world of mental health. My experiences have led me to crave change, and I aspire to become a psychiatrist. My dream is to not only help people and fight the stigma and lack of mental health resources but also to open my private practice one day. My mission to help people overcome mental disorders just as I have done but also to help people like Ben: my mission is to help people who have lost hope, people who have great potential, people who mean something to others but are too lost in their heads to see that. Although my mission is achievable, I cannot do it alone. To achieve this goal, I need a strong education that will help me achieve my only goal: Helping other people who need it, people who were not as fortunate as me.

Despite increasing access to mental health resources, hundreds of people around the world continue to struggle, whether it be from the lack of resources in their area, or even just the stigma that has formed around asking for help. Over the years, my family and I have been impacted differently by mental health issues and the stigma surrounding them. I firmly believe that while we have come a long way in destigmatizing mental health and all of its flaws, we still have such a long way to go, and I believe that I can make a difference in the lives of others by providing this care. Overall, the lack of mental health resources has impacted my ability to achieve an easy and successful education and I want to use my experiences and hardships to help other people overcome this. Throughout my life thus far, I have had my fair share of mental turmoil. I was diagnosed with a generalized anxiety disorder around the age of twelve, and I have been fighting for the ability to feel comfortable leaving my house for years. Over the past few years, I have made an extreme amount of progress toward this goal. Although I am still an anxious person, I have grown to be more comfortable being in public. I can maintain a job, drive, join social clubs and sports, and more. So much of this progress can be attributed to my access to therapy and other resources. If I had not had access to mental care such as therapy and testing through my doctor’s office, I would not have made it as far in life as I have. Having access to mental health resources has made it possible for me to recover from past traumas, overcome anxiety, and just be comfortable existing in social settings. This is why I have chosen Psychology on a premedical track as my field of study. I want to use my experiences to help other people, and expand on the psychology field. Over the years, my family has had an extensive history of mental health issues and needs. Most notably, my family lost my cousin Ben to suicide this past year. He struggled with depression and anxiety for most of his life, leading him to turn to drug use. Although he started with marijuana and alcohol, he eventually spiraled into using harder substances, leading him to develop paranoid schizophrenia. He battled for years to overcome his drug abuse and the mental health problems that came with them, but it all became too much for him. His death was a tragedy that affected our whole family, as we all stood by his side for his journey. His death impacted my way of thinking a lot. Looking at photos of his life, I could see a lot of myself in him, especially through his teenage years. He looked like me, acted like me, and he even had a friend group that resembled mine. With just a few different decisions, I could have ended up just like him. Overall, Ben’s life could have been something great -- He was an artist and a devoted Christian with so much potential. If he had been granted access to proper care and the resources he deserved, his life could have been redirected. It is people like Ben who make it clear how important access to mental health resources is. Something as simple as access to mental health resources can save a life. I have seen and experienced the long-lasting effects of suffering from mental disorders and complications, and I have made it my mission to make an impact in the world of mental health. My experiences have led me to crave change, and I aspire to become a psychiatrist. My dream is to not only help people and fight the stigma and lack of mental health resources but also to open my private practice one day. My mission to help people overcome mental disorders just as I have done but also to help people like Ben: my mission is to help people who have lost hope, people who have great potential, people who mean something to others but are too lost in their heads to see that. Although my mission is achievable, I cannot do it alone. To achieve this goal, I need a strong education, and I believe that this scholarship could be my first step to reaching this goal. This scholarship would be an investment not only into me and my aspirations, but also into hundreds of other people who need help, but are too scared to ask for it, or even do not have access to it. This scholarship would greatly help me achieve my only goal: Helping other people who need it, people who were not as fortunate as me.

Despite increasing access to mental health resources, hundreds of people around the world continue to struggle, whether it be from the lack of resources in their area, or even just the stigma that has formed around asking for help. Over the years, my family and I have been impacted differently by mental health issues and the stigma surrounding them. I firmly believe that while we have come a long way in destigmatizing mental health and all of its flaws, we still have such a long way to go, and I believe that I can make a difference in the lives of others by providing this care. Throughout my life thus far, I have had my fair share of mental turmoil. I was diagnosed with a generalized anxiety disorder around the age of twelve, and I have been fighting for the ability to feel comfortable leaving my house for years. Over the past few years, I have made an extreme amount of progress toward this goal. Although I am still an anxious person, I have grown to be more comfortable being in public. I can maintain a job, drive, join social clubs and sports, and more. So much of this progress can be attributed to my access to therapy and other resources. If I had not had access to mental care such as therapy and testing through my doctor’s office, I would not have made it as far in life as I have. Having access to mental health resources has made it possible for me to recover from past traumas, overcome anxiety, and just be comfortable existing in social settings. I have seen and experienced the long-lasting effects of suffering from mental disorders and complications, and I have made it my mission to make an impact in the world of mental health. My experiences have led me to crave change, and I aspire to become a psychiatrist. My dream is to not only help people and fight the stigma and lack of mental health resources but also to open my private practice one day. My mission to help people overcome mental disorders just as I have done but also to help people: my mission is to help people who have lost hope, people who have great potential, people who mean something to others but are too lost in their heads to see that. Although my mission is achievable, I cannot do it alone. To achieve this goal, I need a strong education, and I believe that this scholarship could be my first step to reaching this goal. This scholarship would be an investment not only into me and my aspirations, but also into hundreds of other people who need help, but are too scared to ask for it, or even do not have access to it. This scholarship would greatly help me achieve my only goal: Helping other people who need it, people who were not as fortunate as me.

Despite increasing access to mental health resources, hundreds of people around the world continue to struggle, whether it be from the lack of resources in their area, or even just the stigma that has formed around asking for help. Over the years, my family and I have been impacted differently by mental health issues and the stigma surrounding them. I firmly believe that while we have come a long way in destigmatizing mental health and all of its flaws, we still have such a long way to go, and I believe that I can make a difference in the lives of others by providing this care. Throughout my life thus far, I have had my fair share of mental turmoil. I was diagnosed with a generalized anxiety disorder around the age of twelve, and I have been fighting for the ability to feel comfortable leaving my house for years. Over the past few years, I have made an extreme amount of progress toward this goal. Although I am still an anxious person, I have grown to be more comfortable being in public. I can maintain a job, drive, join social clubs and sports, and more. So much of this progress can be attributed to my access to therapy and other resources. If I had not had access to mental care such as therapy and testing through my doctor’s office, I would not have made it as far in life as I have. Having access to mental health resources has made it possible for me to recover from past traumas, overcome anxiety, and just be comfortable existing in social settings. I have seen and experienced the long-lasting effects of suffering from mental disorders and complications, and I have made it my mission to make an impact in the world of mental health. My experiences have led me to crave change, and I aspire to become a psychiatrist. My dream is to not only help people and fight the stigma and lack of mental health resources but also to open my private practice one day. My mission to help people overcome mental disorders just as I have done but also to help people: my mission is to help people who have lost hope, people who have great potential, people who mean something to others but are too lost in their heads to see that. Although my mission is achievable, I cannot do it alone. To achieve this goal, I need a strong education, and I believe that this scholarship could be my first step to reaching this goal. This scholarship would be an investment not only into me and my aspirations, but also into hundreds of other people who need help, but are too scared to ask for it, or even do not have access to it. This scholarship would greatly help me achieve my only goal: Helping other people who need it, people who were not as fortunate as me.

Despite increasing access to mental health resources, hundreds of people around the world continue to struggle, whether it be from the lack of resources in their area, or even just not having someone that is willing to fight for them. Over the years, my family and I have been impacted differently by mental health issues and the stigma surrounding them. I firmly believe that while we have come a long way in destigmatizing mental health and all of its flaws, we still have such a long way to go, and I believe that I can make a difference in the lives of others by providing this care, and fighting for those that need it. Over the years, my family has had an extensive history of mental health issues and needs. Most notably, my family lost my cousin Ben to suicide this past year. He struggled with depression and anxiety for most of his life, leading him to turn to drug use. Although he started with marijuana and alcohol, he eventually spiraled into using harder substances, leading him to develop paranoid schizophrenia. He battled for years to overcome his drug abuse and the mental health problems that came with it, but it all became too much for him. His death was a tragedy that affected our whole family, as we all faught by his side for his journey. His death impacted my way of thinking a lot. Looking at photos of his life, I could see a lot of myself in him, especially through his teenage years. He looked like me, acted like me, and he even had a friend group that resembled mine. With just a few different decisions, I could have ended up just like him. Overall, Ben’s life could have been something great -- He was an artist and a devoted Christian with so much potential. If he had been granted access to proper care and the resources he deserved, his life could have been redirected. It is people like Ben who make it clear how important access to mental health resources is. Something as simple as access to mental health resources can save a life. I have seen and experienced the long-lasting effects of suffering from mental disorders and complications, and I have made it my mission to make an impact in the world of mental health. My experiences have led me to crave change, and I aspire to become a psychiatrist. My dream is to not only help people and fight the stigma and lack of mental health resources but also to open my private practice one day. My mission to help people overcome mental disorders just as I have done but also to help people like Ben: my mission is to help people who have lost hope, people who have great potential, people who mean something to others but are too lost in their heads to see that. Although my mission is achievable, I cannot do it alone. To achieve this goal, I need a strong education, and I believe that this scholarship could be my first step to reaching this goal. This scholarship would be an investment not only into me and my aspirations, but also into hundreds of other people who need someone to fight for them, but are too scared to ask for help. This scholarship would greatly help me achieve my only goal: Helping other people who need it, people who were not as fortunate as me.

Despite increasing access to mental health resources, hundreds of people around the world continue to struggle, whether it be from the lack of resources in their area, or even just the stigma that has formed around asking for help. Over the years, my family and I have been impacted differently by mental health issues and the stigma surrounding them. I firmly believe that while we have come a long way in destigmatizing mental health and all of its flaws, we still have such a long way to go, and I believe that I can make a difference in the lives of others by providing this care. Throughout my life thus far, I have had my fair share of mental turmoil. I was diagnosed with a generalized anxiety disorder around the age of twelve, and I have been fighting for the ability to feel comfortable leaving my house for years. Over the past few years, I have made an extreme amount of progress toward this goal. Although I am still an anxious person, I have grown to be more comfortable being in public. I can maintain a job, drive, join social clubs and sports, and more. So much of this progress can be attributed to my access to therapy and other resources. If I had not had access to mental care such as therapy and testing through my doctor’s office, I would not have made it as far in life as I have. Having access to mental health resources has made it possible for me to recover from past traumas, overcome anxiety, and just be comfortable existing in social settings. I have seen and experienced the long-lasting effects of suffering from mental disorders and complications, and I have made it my mission to make an impact in the world of mental health. My experiences have led me to crave change, and I aspire to become a psychiatrist. My dream is to not only help people and fight the stigma and lack of mental health resources but also to open my private practice one day. My mission to help people overcome mental disorders just as I have done but also to help people: my mission is to help people who have lost hope, people who have great potential, people who mean something to others but are too lost in their heads to see that. Although my mission is achievable, I cannot do it alone. To achieve this goal, I need a strong education, and I believe that this scholarship could be my first step to reaching this goal. This scholarship would be an investment not only into me and my aspirations, but also into hundreds of other people who need help, but are too scared to ask for it, or even do not have access to it. This scholarship would greatly help me achieve my only goal: Helping other people who need it, people who were not as fortunate as me.

Despite increasing access to mental health resources, hundreds of people around the world continue to struggle, whether it be from the lack of resources in their area, or even just the stigma that has formed around asking for help. Over the years, my family and I have been impacted differently by mental health issues and the stigma surrounding them. I firmly believe that while we have come a long way in destigmatizing mental health and all of its flaws, we still have such a long way to go, and I believe that I can make a difference in the lives of others by providing this care. Over the years, my family has had an extensive history of mental health issues and needs. Most notably, my family lost my cousin Ben to suicide this past year. He struggled with depression and anxiety for most of his life, leading him to turn to drug use. Although he started with marijuana and alcohol, he eventually spiraled into using harder substances, leading him to develop paranoid schizophrenia. He battled for years to overcome his drug abuse and the mental health problems that came with them, but it all became too much for him. His death was a tragedy that affected our whole family, as we all stood by his side for his journey. His death impacted my way of thinking a lot. Looking at photos of his life, I could see a lot of myself in him, especially through his teenage years. He looked like me, acted like me, and he even had a friend group that resembled mine. With just a few different decisions, I could have ended up just like him. Overall, Ben’s life could have been something great -- He was an artist and a devoted Christian with so much potential. If he had been granted access to proper care and the resources he deserved, his life could have been redirected. It is people like Ben who make it clear how important access to mental health resources is. Something as simple as access to mental health resources can save a life. I have seen and experienced the long-lasting effects of suffering from mental disorders and complications, and I have made it my mission to make an impact in the world of mental health. My experiences have led me to crave change, and I aspire to become a psychiatrist. My dream is to not only help people and fight the stigma and lack of mental health resources but also to open my private practice one day. My mission to help people overcome mental disorders just as I have done but also to help people like Ben: my mission is to help people who have lost hope, people who have great potential, people who mean something to others but are too lost in their heads to see that. Although my mission is achievable, I cannot do it alone. To achieve this goal, I need a strong education, and I believe that this scholarship could be my first step to reaching this goal. This scholarship would be an investment not only into me and my aspirations, but also into hundreds of other people who need help, but are too scared to ask for it, or even do not have access to it. This scholarship would greatly help me achieve my only goal: Helping other people who need it, people who were not as fortunate as me.

Despite increasing access to mental health resources, hundreds of people around the world continue to struggle, whether it be from the lack of resources in their area, or even just the stigma that has formed around asking for help. Over the years, my family and I have been impacted differently by mental health issues and the stigma surrounding them. I firmly believe that while we have come a long way in destigmatizing mental health and all of its flaws, we still have such a long way to go, and I believe that I can make a difference in the lives of others by providing this care. Throughout my life thus far, I have had my fair share of mental turmoil. I was diagnosed with a generalized anxiety disorder around the age of twelve, and I have been fighting for the ability to feel comfortable leaving my house for years. Over the past few years, I have made an extreme amount of progress toward this goal. Although I am still an anxious person, I have grown to be more comfortable being in public. I can maintain a job, drive, join social clubs and sports, and more. So much of this progress can be attributed to my access to therapy and other resources. If I had not had access to mental care such as therapy and testing through my doctor’s office, I would not have made it as far in life as I have. Having access to mental health resources has made it possible for me to recover from past traumas, overcome anxiety, and just be comfortable existing in social settings. I have seen and experienced the long-lasting effects of suffering from mental disorders and complications, and I have made it my mission to make an impact in the world of mental health. My experiences have led me to crave change, and I aspire to become a psychiatrist. My dream is to not only help people and fight the stigma and lack of mental health resources but also to open my private practice one day. My mission to help people overcome mental disorders just as I have done but also to help people: my mission is to help people who have lost hope, people who have great potential, people who mean something to others but are too lost in their heads to see that. Although my mission is achievable, I cannot do it alone. To achieve this goal, I need a strong education, and I believe that this scholarship could be my first step to reaching this goal. This scholarship would be an investment not only into me and my aspirations, but also into hundreds of other people who need help, but are too scared to ask for it, or even do not have access to it. This scholarship would greatly help me achieve my only goal: Helping other people who need it, people who were not as fortunate as me.

Despite increasing access to mental health resources, hundreds of people around the world continue to struggle, whether it be from the lack of resources in their area, or even just the stigma that has formed around asking for help. Over the years, my family and I have been impacted differently by mental health issues and the stigma surrounding them. I firmly believe that while we have come a long way in destigmatizing mental health and all of its flaws, we still have such a long way to go, and I believe that I can make a difference in the lives of others by providing this care. Throughout my life thus far, I have had my fair share of mental turmoil. I was diagnosed with a generalized anxiety disorder around the age of twelve, and I have been fighting for the ability to feel comfortable leaving my house for years. Over the past few years, I have made an extreme amount of progress toward this goal. Although I am still an anxious person, I have grown to be more comfortable being in public. I can maintain a job, drive, join social clubs and sports, and more. So much of this progress can be attributed to my access to therapy and other resources. If I had not had access to mental care such as therapy and testing through my doctor’s office, I would not have made it as far in life as I have. Having access to mental health resources has made it possible for me to recover from past traumas, overcome anxiety, and just be comfortable existing in social settings. Although I still tend to be a nervous person, I am a very hard working and determined individual. I have been playing the cello for almost seven years, and have found a passion in the performance arts despite how nervous it may make me. Over the past three years, I have performed upwards towards twenty times in both community concerts and even some competitions, leading me to earn one division two ranking and two division one rankings district wide, and this past year, I received a division one rankings on a state level, all due to my determination and dogged personality. I have seen and experienced the long-lasting effects of suffering from mental disorders and complications, and I have made it my mission to make an impact in the world of mental health. My experiences have led me to crave change, and I aspire to become a psychiatrist. My dream is to not only help people and fight the stigma and lack of mental health resources but also to open my private practice one day. My mission to help people overcome mental disorders just as I have done but also to help people: my mission is to help people who have lost hope, people who have great potential, people who mean something to others but are too lost in their heads to see that. Although my mission is achievable, I cannot do it alone. To achieve this goal, I need a strong education, and I believe that this scholarship could be my first step to reaching this goal. This scholarship would be an investment not only into me and my aspirations, but also into hundreds of other people who need help, but are too scared to ask for it, or even do not have access to it. This scholarship would greatly help me achieve my only goal: Helping other people who need it, people who were not as fortunate as me.

Despite increasing access to mental health resources, hundreds of people around the world continue to struggle, whether it be from the lack of resources in their area, or even just the stigma that has formed around asking for help. Over the years, my family and I have been impacted differently by mental health issues and the stigma surrounding them. I firmly believe that while we have come a long way in destigmatizing mental health and all of its flaws, we still have such a long way to go, and I believe that I can make a difference in the lives of others by providing this care. Throughout my education thus far, I have had my fair share of mental turmoil. I was diagnosed with a generalized anxiety disorder around the age of twelve, and I have been fighting for the ability to feel comfortable leaving my house for years. Over the past few years, I have made an extreme amount of progress toward this goal. Although I am still an anxious person, I have grown to be more comfortable being in public. I can maintain a job, drive, join social clubs and sports, and more. So much of this progress can be attributed to my access to therapy and other resources. If I had not had access to mental care such as therapy and testing through my doctor’s office, I would not have made it as far in life as I have. Having access to mental health resources has made it possible for me to recover from past traumas, overcome anxiety, and just be comfortable existing in social settings. I have seen and experienced the long-lasting effects of suffering from mental disorders and complications, and I have made it my mission to make an impact in the world of mental health. My experiences have led me to crave change, and I aspire to become a psychiatrist. My dream is to not only help people and fight the stigma and lack of mental health resources but also to open my private practice one day. My mission to help people overcome mental disorders just as I have done but also to help people: my mission is to help people who have lost hope, people who have great potential, people who mean something to others but are too lost in their heads to see that. Although my mission is achievable, I cannot do it alone. To achieve this goal, I need a strong education, and I believe that this scholarship could be my first step to reaching this goal. This scholarship would be an investment not only into me and my aspirations, but also into hundreds of other people who need help, but are too scared to ask for it, or even do not have access to it. This scholarship would greatly help me achieve my only goal: Helping other people who need it, people who were not as fortunate as me.

Over the years, my family has had an extensive history of mental health issues and needs. Most notably, my family lost my cousin Ben to suicide this past year. He struggled with depression and anxiety for most of his life, leading him to turn to drug use. My family and I referred him to psychologists and encouraged him to seek help. He battled for years to overcome his drug abuse and the mental health problems that came with them. Eventually we came to the hard realization that it was out of our hands, and we put him into the psychological care of a caretaker. I have seen and experienced the long-lasting effects of suffering from mental disorders and complications, and I have made it my mission to make an impact in the world of mental health. My experiences have led me to crave change, and I aspire to become a psychiatrist. My dream is to not only help people and fight the stigma and lack of mental health resources but also to open my private practice one day. My mission to help people overcome mental disorders just as I have done but also to help people like Ben: my mission is to help people who have lost hope, people who have great potential, people who mean something to others but are too lost in their heads to see that. Although my mission is achievable, I cannot do it alone. To achieve this goal, I need a strong education, and I believe that this scholarship could be my first step to reaching this goal. This scholarship would be an investment not only into me and my aspirations, but also into hundreds of other people who need help, but are too scared to ask for it, or even do not have access to it. This scholarship would greatly help me achieve my only goal: Helping other people who need it, people who were not as fortunate as me.

Despite increasing access to mental health resources, hundreds of people around the world continue to struggle, whether it be from the lack of resources in their area, or even just the stigma that has formed around asking for help. Over the years, my family and I have been impacted differently by mental health issues and the stigma surrounding them. I firmly believe that while we have come a long way in destigmatizing mental health and all of its flaws, we still have such a long way to go, and I believe that I can make a difference in the lives of others by providing this care. Throughout my life thus far, I have had my fair share of mental turmoil. I was diagnosed with a generalized anxiety disorder around the age of twelve, and I have been fighting for the ability to feel comfortable leaving my house for years. Over the past few years, I have made an extreme amount of progress toward this goal. Although I am still an anxious person, I have grown to be more comfortable being in public. I can maintain a job, drive, join social clubs and sports, and more. So much of this progress can be attributed to my access to therapy and other resources. If I had not had access to mental care such as therapy and testing through my doctor’s office, I would not have made it as far in life as I have. Having access to mental health resources has made it possible for me to recover from past traumas, overcome anxiety, and just be comfortable existing in social settings. Overall, mental health is important to me as a student because I have seen and experienced how it effects people. While I can do my best to tell my story and explain to others that it is okay to not feel okay all of the time and encourage my peers to seek help, that is all that I can do for now. I have seen and experienced the long-lasting effects of suffering from mental disorders and complications, and I have made it my mission to make an impact in the world of mental health. My experiences have led me to crave change, and I aspire to become a psychiatrist. My dream is to not only help people and fight the stigma and lack of mental health resources but also to open my private practice one day. My mission to help people overcome mental disorders just as I have done but also to help people: my mission is to help people who have lost hope, people who have great potential, people who mean something to others but are too lost in their heads to see that. Although my mission is achievable, I cannot do it alone. To achieve this goal, I need a strong education, and I believe that this scholarship could be my first step to reaching this goal. This scholarship would be an investment not only into me and my aspirations, but also into hundreds of other people who need help, but are too scared to ask for it, or even do not have access to it. This scholarship would greatly help me achieve my only goal: Helping other people who need it, people who were not as fortunate as me.

Despite increasing access to mental health resources, hundreds of people around the world continue to struggle, whether it be from the lack of resources in their area, or even just the stigma that has formed around asking for help. Over the years, my family and I have been impacted differently by mental health issues and the stigma surrounding them. I firmly believe that while we have come a long way in destigmatizing mental health and all of its flaws, we still have such a long way to go, and I believe that I can make a difference in the lives of others by providing this care. Throughout my life thus far, I have had my fair share of mental turmoil. I was diagnosed with a generalized anxiety disorder around the age of twelve, and I have been fighting for the ability to feel comfortable leaving my house for years. Over the past few years, I have made an extreme amount of progress toward this goal. Although I am still an anxious person, I have grown to be more comfortable being in public. I can maintain a job, drive, join social clubs and sports, and more. So much of this progress can be attributed to my access to therapy and other resources. If I had not had access to mental care such as therapy and testing through my doctor’s office, I would not have made it as far in life as I have. Having access to mental health resources has made it possible for me to recover from past traumas, overcome anxiety, and just be comfortable existing in social settings. I have seen and experienced the long-lasting effects of suffering from mental disorders and complications, and I have made it my mission to make an impact in the world of mental health. My experiences have led me to crave change, and I aspire to become a psychiatrist. My dream is to not only help people and fight the stigma and lack of mental health resources but also to open my private practice one day. My mission to help people overcome mental disorders just as I have done but also to help people: my mission is to help people who have lost hope, people who have great potential, people who mean something to others but are too lost in their heads to see that. Although my mission is achievable, I cannot do it alone. To achieve this goal, I need a strong education, and I believe that this scholarship could be my first step to reaching this goal. This scholarship would be an investment not only into me and my aspirations, but also into hundreds of other people who need help, but are too scared to ask for it, or even do not have access to it. This scholarship would greatly help me achieve my only goal: Helping other people who need it, people who were not as fortunate as me.

Despite increasing access to mental health resources, hundreds of people around the world continue to struggle, whether it be from the lack of resources in their area, or even just the stigma that has formed around asking for help. Over the years, my family and I have been impacted differently by mental health issues and the stigma surrounding them. I firmly believe that while we have come a long way in destigmatizing mental health and all of its flaws, we still have such a long way to go, and I believe that I can make a difference in the lives of others by providing this care. Throughout my life thus far, I have had my fair share of mental turmoil. I was diagnosed with a generalized anxiety disorder around the age of twelve, and I have been fighting for the ability to feel comfortable leaving my house for years. Over the past few years, I have made an extreme amount of progress toward this goal. Although I am still an anxious person, I have grown to be more comfortable being in public. I can maintain a job, drive, join social clubs and sports, and more. So much of this progress can be attributed to my access to therapy and other resources. If I had not had access to mental care such as therapy and testing through my doctor’s office, I would not have made it as far in life as I have. Having access to mental health resources has made it possible for me to recover from past traumas, overcome anxiety, and just be comfortable existing in social settings. I have seen and experienced the long-lasting effects of suffering from mental disorders and complications, and I have made it my mission to make an impact in the world of mental health. My experiences have led me to crave change, and I aspire to become a psychiatrist. My dream is to not only help people and fight the stigma and lack of mental health resources but also to open my private practice one day. My mission to help people overcome mental disorders just as I have done but also to help people: my mission is to help people who have lost hope, people who have great potential, people who mean something to others but are too lost in their heads to see that. Although my mission is achievable, I cannot do it alone. To achieve this goal, I need a strong education, and I believe that this scholarship could be my first step to reaching this goal. This scholarship would be an investment not only into me and my aspirations, but also into hundreds of other people who need help, but are too scared to ask for it, or even do not have access to it. This scholarship would greatly help me achieve my only goal: Helping other people who need it, people who were not as fortunate as me.

Despite increasing access to mental health resources, hundreds of people around the world continue to struggle, whether it be from the lack of resources in their area, or even just the stigma that has formed around asking for help. Over the years, my family and I have been impacted differently by mental health issues and the stigma surrounding them. I firmly believe that while we have come a long way in destigmatizing mental health and all of its flaws, we still have such a long way to go, and I believe that I can make a difference in the lives of others by providing this care. Throughout my life thus far, I have had my fair share of mental turmoil. I was diagnosed with a generalized anxiety disorder around the age of twelve, and I have been fighting for the ability to feel comfortable leaving my house for years. Over the past few years, I have made an extreme amount of progress toward this goal. Although I am still an anxious person, I have grown to be more comfortable being in public. I can maintain a job, drive, join social clubs and sports, and more. So much of this progress can be attributed to my access to therapy and other resources. If I had not had access to mental care such as therapy and testing through my doctor’s office, I would not have made it as far in life as I have. Having access to mental health resources has made it possible for me to recover from past traumas, overcome anxiety, and just be comfortable existing in social settings. Over the years, my family has had an extensive history of mental health issues and needs. Most notably, my family lost my cousin Ben to suicide this past year. He struggled with depression and anxiety for most of his life, leading him to turn to drug use. Although he started with marijuana and alcohol, he eventually spiraled into using harder substances, leading him to develop paranoid schizophrenia. He battled for years to overcome his drug abuse and the mental health problems that came with them, but it all became too much for him. His death was a tragedy that affected our whole family, as we all stood by his side for his journey. His death impacted my way of thinking a lot. Looking at photos of his life, I could see a lot of myself in him, especially through his teenage years. He looked like me, acted like me, and he even had a friend group that resembled mine. With just a few different decisions, I could have ended up just like him. Overall, Ben’s life could have been something great -- He was an artist and a devoted Christian with so much potential. If he had been granted access to proper care and the resources he deserved, his life could have been redirected. It is people like Ben who make it clear how important access to mental health resources is. Something as simple as access to mental health resources can save a life. I have seen and experienced the long-lasting effects of suffering from mental disorders and complications, and I have made it my mission to make an impact in the world of mental health. My experiences have led me to crave change, and I aspire to become a psychiatrist. My dream is to not only help people and fight the stigma and lack of mental health resources but also to open my private practice one day. My mission to help people overcome mental disorders just as I have done but also to help people like Ben: my mission is to help people who have lost hope, people who have great potential, people who mean something to others but are too lost in their heads to see that. Although my mission is achievable, I cannot do it alone. To achieve this goal, I need a strong education, and I believe that this scholarship could be my first step to reaching this goal. This scholarship would be an investment not only into me and my aspirations, but also into hundreds of other people who need help, but are too scared to ask for it, or even do not have access to it. This scholarship would greatly help me achieve my only goal: Helping other people who need it, people who were not as fortunate as me.

Some people aim to destigmatize mental health by talking about their struggles, but that is not enough anymore. We no longer need solidarity, we need action. Despite increasing access to mental health resources, hundreds of people around the world continue to struggle, whether it be from the lack of resources in their area, or even just the stigma that has formed around asking for help. Over the years, my family and I have been impacted differently by mental health issues and the stigma surrounding them. I firmly believe that while we have come a long way in destigmatizing mental health and all of its flaws, we still have such a long way to go, and I believe that I can make a difference in the lives of others by providing this care. Throughout my life thus far, I have had my fair share of mental turmoil. I was diagnosed with a generalized anxiety disorder around the age of twelve, and I have been fighting for the ability to feel comfortable leaving my house for years. Over the past few years, I have made an extreme amount of progress toward this goal. Although I am still an anxious person, I have grown to be more comfortable being in public. I can maintain a job, drive, join social clubs and sports, and more. So much of this progress can be attributed to my access to therapy and other resources. If I had not had access to mental care such as therapy and testing through my doctor’s office, I would not have made it as far in life as I have. Having access to mental health resources has made it possible for me to recover from past traumas, overcome anxiety, and just be comfortable existing in social settings. Over the years, my family has had an extensive history of mental health issues and needs. Most notably, my family lost my cousin Ben to suicide this past year. He struggled with depression and anxiety for most of his life, leading him to turn to drug use. Although he started with marijuana and alcohol, he eventually spiraled into using harder substances, leading him to develop paranoid schizophrenia. He battled for years to overcome his drug abuse and the mental health problems that came with them, but it all became too much for him. His death was a tragedy that affected our whole family, as we all stood by his side for his journey. His death impacted my way of thinking a lot. Looking at photos of his life, I could see a lot of myself in him, especially through his teenage years. He looked like me, acted like me, and he even had a friend group that resembled mine. With just a few different decisions, I could have ended up just like him. Overall, Ben’s life could have been something great -- He was an artist and a devoted Christian with so much potential. If he had been granted access to proper care and the resources he deserved, his life could have been redirected. It is people like Ben who make it clear how important access to mental health resources is. Something as simple as access to mental health resources can save a life. I have seen and experienced the long-lasting effects of suffering from mental disorders and complications, and I have made it my mission to make an impact in the world of mental health. My experiences have led me to crave change, and I aspire to become a psychiatrist. My dream is to not only help people and fight the stigma and lack of mental health resources but also to open my private practice one day. My mission to help people overcome mental disorders just as I have done but also to help people like Ben: my mission is to help people who have lost hope, people who have great potential, people who mean something to others but are too lost in their heads to see that. Although my mission is achievable, I cannot do it alone. To achieve this goal, I need a strong education, and I believe that this scholarship could be my first step to reaching this goal. This scholarship would be an investment not only into me and my aspirations, but also into hundreds of other people who need help, but are too scared to ask for it, or even do not have access to it. This scholarship would greatly help me achieve my only goal: Helping other people who need it, people who were not as fortunate as me, people who have not yet received the care that they need.