My world was turned upside down when I was only nine years old. The day my half-brother, Dustin, committed suicide is forever burned into my mind. Struggling with the combination of an absent father and a mentally unstable mother, his decision came at just twenty years old. Like many children battling addiction, he was forced to grow up at an age far too young. Although I did not understand his struggle at a young age, I immediately felt his absence. His death was my first encounter with loss, and it left me completely shattered. What I didn’t understand in the moment was how profound the impact of his loss would be in my life—not only in grief but in resilience, and strength earned from lessons tough to bear. Dustin faced numerous challenges throughout his life. With a mother who was emotionally neglectful and a father who was physically absent, he did not have the basic assurance every child requires. Studies suggest that in the absence of a stable environment, the likelihood of suffering from depression and addiction can increase by up to 60%. He, sadly, chose the path of drugs to escape the pain that numbed him, obliterating his grasp on reality. It is disheartening he did not receive the love and support that could have changed his perspective. Everything changed after his death; I did not just lose a brother, I also lost my father, who slipped away from my life after the tragedy. After Dustin took his life, dealing with grief on my own felt impossible. I wanted to feel his laughter and energy and grappled with abandonment and confused emotions. What did it say about my worth, if my father could so easily walk away? These burdensome thoughts troubled me for years. Fortunately, I managed to cope with the unconditional support of my mother and stepfather, who encouraged me to talk about my feelings. Rather than ignoring my grief, I confronted it. My loved ones became a form of support, guiding me through understanding my feelings as reflections of my love for my brother and the pain of his absence. One of the most important lessons I have come to learn is that pain does not dictate my future. There was a time when I could have easily followed a path similar to Dustin’s, but I chose differently. Studies indicate that siblings of suicide victims experience even greater mental health challenges and substance use, but with help many are able to cope. I saw with my own eyes how drugs ruined the world for Dustin, and ultimately contributed to his death. This motivated me to change my life around. I decided to focus on my education and work towards a better future. Ironically, when Dustin passed away, his organs were donated, giving many people a second chance at life. His story did not end with death; It will continue through the people he saved, and in the lessons I learned. This continued in the lives he saved, and in the lessons I carry forward. My identity is not encapsulated by the losses I have faced but rather by the strength I have harnessed from those experiences. The course of my life coupled with grief has defined me and I hope to channel my experiences towards advocating mental health awareness. My understanding of empathy and compassion enables me to give the needed support to people who face these issues. Looking ahead, my past instills a certain resilience to move forward, and I aim to transform my pain into strength—not only for myself, but for many throughout the community.

Title: The Effect Divorce Has Had on Me as a Child Overview The divorce of my parents which happened when I was around eight years old, had a striking impact on my life. From that age onward, I began to deal with a lot of psychological confusion and chaos which stemmed from my mother’s decision to abandon my father because of his substance abuse issues. My perception of family, love, and especially enduring difficulties has been shaped by this experience. Personal Story: The Immediate Effects of Divorce My life was turned upside down with the divorce. I recall the day very clearly when my mother decided to break the news to my brother and me that dad will no longer be living with us. Even when I didn’t understand the consequences at that point, I could feel a harmful void. As months went by, I could feel my father’s presence more and more absent. He began withdrawing, focusing on his self-destructive tendencies rather than being a father. This shift was difficult; I felt lost and isolated, met with the overwhelming question: Why would someone choose to self-destruct instead of being there for his family? The Ripple Effects As if this shift wasn't devastating enough, two years later, our family had to face an even more heartbreaking loss. My elder brother, who had been dealing with his own set of addiction issues, died by suicide. This sent shockwaves through my already fraying world and left me dealing with overwhelming grief, paired with anger and confusion – all directed towards my father. Why was he so detached during our time of need? That period of addiction proved truly difficult for me and his absence underscored how deeply addiction had afflicted him. It was obvious that addiction had so many repercussions that the family couldn’t even begin to fathom. My Mom's New Husband Out of the blue, we were graced with my stepdad who came into my life when I was about 8. He became my stepdad in the most literal sense and it was not long before he picked up the responsibilities entitled to a father. I could tell through his relentless support that a father and a dad are two different people. He was there when I needed guidance and he showed me what it truly means to care for someone. He made sure that my emotional expression was well monitored and sculpted as well and as a bonus, infused into my mind the true meaning of family, the kind of family that is built through caring, love and not blood. Lessons Learned From these sets of experiences, I learned the importance of resilience while for example enduring the pain of losing my brother alongside the absence of my father and the growing pains that accompanied these events. I understood that while I could not modify the past, I could change my future reactions to it. Having gone through such intense hardships sparked my interest in mental health his ensured that I strived to help myself and others going through painful realities. Such realizations led me to spread awareness about addiction and the harm it does not only to the individual but to the family as well. Conclusion Navigating the aftermath of my parents' divorce and the divorce itself has imparted fundamental concepts around love, loss and choice. My childhood, as a lot of people do, was surrounded by an immense amount of pain. However, whenever I felt that way, my stepdad brought a shine to my life that I thought would never come. And now, I understand that I will be facing new challenges and for that I have learned some incredibly useful lessons for life that have made me realize that family isn't just blood, but the people who you make strong bonds with and show love to.

I was nine years old when my world shattered. The day my brother Dustin died by suicide is etched into my memory with painful clarity. At twenty years old, he chose to end a life that had been filled with struggle—a life shaped by an absent father and an alcoholic mother who offered little support. Like many children of addiction, he bore the weight of adult responsibilities far too early. I was too young to understand the depth of his pain, but I felt the impact of his absence immediately. His death was the first I had ever experienced, and it left a hole in my heart that nothing could fill. What I did not realize then was how much his loss would shape me—not just in grief, but in the lessons, I would carry and the resilience I would find in the years that followed. Dustin's life was not easy. With a mother who was emotionally unavailable and an absent father, he grew up without the stability every child deserves. According to experts, such unstable environments can increase the risk of depression and substance abuse by up to 60%. He turned to drugs to numb his pain—an escape that eventually blurred his sense of reality. Looking back, I wonder if things could have been different for him if he had felt supported and loved. What I do know is that his death changed everything, not just because I lost a brother, but because in the wake of his death, I also lost my father. After Dustin's suicide, my father disappeared from my life, leaving me to navigate my grief without him. In those early years, the sadness felt overwhelming. I missed Dustin's presence—his laugh and energy. I also struggled with feelings of confusion and rejection. If my father could walk away so easily, what did that mean about my worth? These were heavy questions for me to carry, but they lingered in my mind for years. I found something Dustin never had unwavering support. My mother and stepfather became my foundation. They encouraged me to talk openly about my feelings, never judging the pain or confusion I expressed. Instead of burying my grief, I faced it. I shared my thoughts with my parents and my friends. Slowly, those conversations became a lifeline. I realized that my feelings, were not a burden—they reflected my love for my brother and the pain of his absence. One of the most important lessons I have learned is that pain does not have to define my future. I could have easily followed a path similar to Dustin’s—but I chose differently. Research shows that siblings of suicide victims are higher risk for mental health issues and substance abuse, but with support, many find ways to cope. I saw firsthand how drugs distorted his world and contributed to death. I knew that I wanted more for myself. I poured myself into my education and worked hard to build a future. Dustin's organs were donated, giving others a second chance. In his death, he gave the greatest gift of life. That act of generosity reminds me that even in tragedy, there is hope. Dustin's story did not end with his death; it continues in the lives he saved and in the lessons I carry forward. I am not defined by the losses I have endured, but by the strength I have found through them. I have learned that support makes all the difference—that with love and open communication, it is possible to survive even the darkest moments.