I am deathly afraid of the bogeyman. In my life, his mythical existence embodies the fear that keeps me from falling asleep. I believe that his impact on children's lives is perpetually downplayed. Everyone's parents convinced their kids that their most profound fear of being endangered while sleeping or kidnapped at night was simply a figment of their imagination. That the shadows we see in the hallway or the noises we hear outside are our nerves, and we must merely debunk those thoughts and become in touch with reality. Unfortunately, in my case, becoming in touch with reality never came easily. I have had trouble falling asleep due to fear ever since I was three, and sometimes the nerves come crawling back just like they used to. Just for a second, I want you to imagine that as you lie in your soft plush bed after a long day of work, you suddenly feel as though you are not alone in your room. Your stomach drops, and you can feel your heart pumping. Naturally, you sit up, your eyes scroll across the room like a page in a book, and as your logical brain suspected-- there's nothing there. Since your mind is wired to believe that there must be a cause to create an effect, you question how you can feel such fear when there is nothing to spark it. In my case, my young mind became confused, wondering what was wrong with me and if this was how everyone else felt. It was not until my first year of high school that I expressed concerns about my fear of sleeping, and I was finally told that the unexplainable problems I faced were completely explainable in psychology. I went to a therapist and was told I had OCD, obsessive-compulsive disorder, which created these unwanted thoughts and fears, leading me to "compulsions." Although this diagnosis cleared up my confusion about my thoughts at night, I quickly felt lost. I was forced into a new mold, obligated to wear the label of a disorder I didn't fully understand. Although struggling with OCD may be common statistically, the reality of mental health is that it can become lonely very quickly. I felt ashamed, weak, and burdened by my mental battles, leading me to isolation. I realized that if I kept quiet about my fears and challenges, other people might be just as silent as me. In my sophomore year of high school, I started using this skeleton in my closet to grow deeper connections with my friends. I overcame the embarrassment of a fear that seemed immature and belittling, allowing me to open up and create vulnerable moments with others like me. I began to use the techniques and knowledge I had gained from my struggles to guide my peers through times of panic. I became a safe person that others could go to, the person I never had growing up. My journey with mental health has pushed me to be a source of light and compassion for those struggling in secret, just like I used to be. In addition, I hope to become a place of security and understanding for those who are open about their struggles, similar to how I am today. Although my deepest fears still bring me sleepless nights and moments of weakness, I am content with continuing to fight this battle with those around me.