When people see me, they see a happy-go-lucky half-Indian kid who looks like he hasn’t had to deal with a single challenge his whole life. They see a kid who loves being the center of attention. They see a kid filled with ambition and love for what he does. But what they don’t see is a kid who’s had to overcome obstacles that are unlike any that most kids have to deal with. What they don’t see is me.
It was the summer after freshman year, and for some reason, my mind went into hyper-drive. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I forgot about all the people in my life and all my responsibilities. After a few days of not sleeping, my thinking went from normal to paranoia. I was scared and suspicious about things and people I had always trusted. My family didn’t know what was going on, and neither did I. I found myself being rushed to the hospital at midnight. The medical tests revealed nothing. I was sent to an adolescent care unit to undergo therapy. But, when it was time to come home, I knew I was nowhere close to being myself.
All of the sophomore year was full of confidence issues. I had put on a few pounds and was no longer the fit student I had been the year before. I was on hard pharmaceuticals to keep me grounded, but they made me extremely unproductive and ineffective as a person. Everybody knew I had been in the hospital, they just didn’t understand why. I spent a lot of time denying to myself that anything even happened. I absolutely hated going to therapy. I hated being told I was sick. I hated my sophomore year.
It wasn’t until about a year later that I finally started feeling like myself again. I had slimmed down to my normal figure. I became a section leader for my drumline. I started getting involved at church playing drums and meeting new people. I finally felt confident in myself and was comfortable in my own skin again.
I definitely learned lifelong lessons from my mental health experience. I now value health and am more attentive to mine. I make sure I eat a healthy diet, drink plenty of water, and take the vitamins I’m supposed to take. I’ve built a support system for myself and now value deep-rooted friendships over casual acquaintances. now I have several people I’m deeply close with who I can depend on. I’ve learned that the opinions of people who don’t know me don’t matter. I’ve learned to trust my family, as they are the ones who best know my needs. I grew up a lot through this experience. I know who I am now, and nobody can tell me differently. I may have to deal with mental health issues again at some point, but dealing with it head-on will make me a healthier, more effective person, and all-in-all, a stronger human being.
Being a missionary doctor has always been one of the most fulfilling careers I could think of. But, due to my fragile mental health and need for consistent sleep, this isn't a career path that I'm able to take. On the other hand, I feel like my struggles with mental illness have made me much more interested in music. I've found that making music is almost therapeutic for me, and this especially goes for playing the piano. When I make a song it's a way for me to express the things that I try to ignore, most of these things being from bouts with mental health.
While I do plan to continue making music in the future, it is unlikely I'll be able to make a living off of it. Whatever career path I do choose to take, I want to make sure that I'm impacting people for the better. I can make all the money in the world but it won't matter if I'm the only one benefitting from it. I want to help people with the talents, opportunities, and resources that I've been given. Life is not about me.