I have struggled with my mental health since my junior year of high school. Midway through the year, it felt like the lights were turned off, and I became a passenger in my high school experience. My mom thankfully noticed the signs because of her own experience with depression. I was isolating myself, lying in bed all day, and had lost all my spark. She supported me quietly. Not making any big deal about slowly shifting our daily routine to make my days easier. I never fully appreciated how much that helped me until I was better. Eventually, it got to the point where we needed to have a heart-to-heart, and she suggested treatment. I was hesitant at first because I didn't mind how I was feeling. I felt a strange sense of comfort in my darkness. However, that didn't last forever, and when my thoughts started to scare me, I asked for help. I saw my doctor and started medication and talk therapy, which truly saved my life. Anyone who has dealt with family or personal mental health issues knows it's not a perfect life after treatment. I have still dealt with plenty of depression cycles, some worse than others, but I'm incredibly grateful to have a family I can fall back on. My mom in particular has always been my biggest supporter. Her patience and care have motivated me to keep moving forward and now pursue my master's in Art Therapy. As an undergraduate at American University, I double-majored in psychology and photography, two subjects that have fascinated me since elementary school. Throughout my education, I’ve wanted to help others deal with their trauma and facilitate healing through creative expression, as I did, and pay forward the help that was given to me.