I am a professional photographer and filmmaker. I am majoring in Mechatronics Engineering. I have my own photography and filming business. I am fighting to reach my future goals, such as being a mechatronics engineer, becoming a big photographer, and building my production company for doing events.

It's no secret that mental health is routinely treated differently than physical health, but sometimes it isn't easy to understand how or why this affects us. Consequently, this unequal treatment of mental and physical illnesses leads to unequal results. This disparity can take many shapes and forms, ranging from negative societal perceptions to discrimination in health coverage for mental health. One of the few certainties that I have learned from living with a father with bipolar disorder is that mental health is just as important as physical health. Mental health is physical health; the two are inseparable. It baffles me that many people continue to make a distinction between the two. If we don't recognize mental illnesses as physical health issues, we will never get people the treatment they need. To better understand the subtlety of mental illness, I have sought out opportunities that have changed my life and my perception of mental illness. I went from reading articles online in my free time to doing hands-on research about the physiological development of mental illness at Dr. Renee Reijo-Pera's Stem Cell Institute and the Center for Mental Health Research and Recovery at Montana State University. While our current generation of medication and treatment can be frustrating, I have seen how learning more about the underlying biochemical pathways holds great promise for the future. My journey has also become an adventure all across the nation, advocating for a more humanistic perspective of mental health. The ability to speak up and share what I've discovered with people and the chance to connect with others in similar experiences have been some of the most fulfilling experiences in my life. Ironically, the same fluidity and complexity of mental disorders that I find so fascinating have prevented those same disorders from gaining societal acceptance in the same way physical illnesses have. They are just as accurate, but they are sometimes more challenging to understand. The social stigma that those living with mental illness experience essentially stems from this fundamental lack of understanding of mental disorders as physical illnesses. This makes a living with mental illness so hard and is something that we all need to recognize to a greater extent, myself included. Initially, I dismissed my father's illness as simple craziness. In a manic state, my dad hallucinated that he was dealing cards with Christ's apostles, and during his crippling depression, he couldn't lift himself from his bed for weeks. Even though my dad's physical reality didn't match my own, it was naive to ignore the fact that there are people behind these diseases and that their illnesses don't encapsulate their personalities. If I dismiss you as crazy, then how can we start a dialogue? We need to begin by empathizing and loving those who we don't fully understand. Whether this takes the form of a quick post on social media or a late-night conversation with a loved one in desperate need of support, speak up. Speak out. Be heard. Show love. Listen well. This change doesn't come easy. My experiences with mental illness in my family challenged me to become a more compassionate and patient individual; through my father's dizzying highs and seemingly endless lows, our collective vulnerability created a powerful emotional bond between us. It was only through understanding the complexity of my father's mental illness that I gradually came to learn—through trauma, confusion, and grief—more about myself and the human condition than I had ever thought possible. From my personal experiences, my biggest takeaway has been that a fundamental difference between mental progress and debilitation comes from understanding your current situation. The thoughts and worries we all experience are fundamental and essential regardless of whether our situation conforms to others' ideas of mental health. If we can accept our current state, then we can begin to move forward. Mental wellness is not a mind over matter issue—nobody claims it is—but it does involve a certain level of acceptance. However, I'm still a young, confused teenager trying to process what mental illness means to my family and me. However, my greatest fear is not that I am hopeless to change our society's perception of mental illness, nor that I can't adequately solve the world's disconnect between psychological and physical health issues. Instead, I fear that we possess a voice and a power to effect change, and yet we fail to speak out and bond together as equals. If nothing else, everyone reading this can increase their familiarization with those living with mental illness around them to broaden their spectrum of receptive comfort. Hearing the stories of others can widen our capacity for love if we only allow ourselves to learn from a wider variety of experiences. We have all been given a voice and the ability to listen; please use these gifts to start affecting the way we perceive mental health. Bennett is a freshman studying neuroscience at Brigham Young University. Although he barely knows what he's doing next weekend, he has always aspired to be a part of the much-needed change in the American mental health care system.