I struggled greatly with depression and anxiety. I struggled as a young child with self-harm and even contemplating suicide. As I grew older, it led me to self-medicate and spiral down the path of drug and alcohol addiction. It is a sad fact that most struggling with mental health issues will turn to these things as a way to cope. I was no exception. At the age of just twelve years old, I began to self-harm. I continued doing this until the age of fifteen and I hid it from everyone. As my mental health continued to decline, thoughts of how I could end it all started to trickle in. After much deliberation, the only option I thought might be the most painless was a gun. My father used to tell me that the animals he killed didn't feel a thing and that it was over quickly. He kept the guns in the garage. I thought after I took a gun, I could go up into the attic above the garage to finish it. I was hoping my younger sister and brother wouldn't find me. I contemplated my plan for months until finally, I felt as if I couldn't handle it anymore. So I began to carry out my plan. I gave my D.S. console to my little sister. I gave my laptop to my brother. I wrote a suicide letter in my journal. I poured out exactly how I felt and why I thought ending it was my only option. I left instructions regarding what I wanted done with the rest of my stuff. Stuff that was important to me. That night, I ripped the letter out of my journal and left it on my bed. I took the rest of the journal and burned it. I went to the garage to get a gun. My father had a handgun, he kept a loaded magazine in it. I took it to the attic upstairs and I sat with it for what felt like hours. I was crying and my hands were shaking so bad I could barely turn the safety off. At the time, I was thirteen years old. I couldn't do it, and I'm so very glad for that. About a week after that incident, I finally confided in a close friend. I didn't tell her about my plan, my letter, or how I had come very close to taking my life. I told her about the self-harming and how I felt. At the time, I was so upset with her for telling her mom about all of it. But I'm so glad she did. Her mother told my mother. My mom then intervened in the best way she knew how to get me help. She was against medication and only agreed to take me to a religious-based counselor. I learned a lot from the counselor about how I could cope with my feelings more healthily, and how I could pray. I had also been told that I was occupied by demons. I was advised that this was my fault, as I had at some point let them in and accepted them. Thus, my mental health issues became a thing of shame for me. I felt the need to continue my self-harm as a form of punishment. As I grew older, I found ways I could self-medicate. At the age of fifteen, I started experimenting with drugs like Xanax, cocaine, and MDMA. I thought I would never do anything worse. But then the opportunity to try opiates and methamphetamine presented itself. So I started using. For the following years, I succumbed to the disease of addiction. On one particular occasion, I overdosed for the first time. During this, I thought that if I died, it would be okay. I was content with dying. That instance made me realize how unhealthy I truly was. So I sought help. My high school nurse, Nurse Roz, had always been compassionate and caring towards me. She listened to me without judgment and offered me sound advice and wisdom. I went to her for help, and she without question assisted me. April 5th, 2021 marks my first day of sobriety. Nurse Roz truly inspired me. She showed me a level of care I had never experienced before, and I wanted to be able to give that to others. She cheered me on while I went to follow in her footsteps and become a nurse. Today, I am still clean with no relapse and I am taking medications to continue to better my mental health. I obtained my License as a Practical Nurse and I plan to get my RN BSN. I have a special place in my heart for patients who are addicted and with mental health issues. I've been there too and I know that I cannot solve their problems. However, I want to be a part of their healing journey when they decide they are ready to get help. I want to give back to the community by servicing those discriminated against due to their mental health issues and/or addictions. That is why I want to continue my education. Mental health often comes with the challenges of addiction. Both are highly stigmatized resulting in subpar care and aid to those afflicted. I want to be a part of what changes that narrative. Unfortunately, it can become too late to help those who are suffering. Part of that issue I believe is due to the stigmatism of mental health. The 1,000 words I am allowed on this essay truly doesn't come close to allowing me to express how much mental health has affected me and others around me. There is a lot that needs to change, and as a healthcare professional, I can say that those changes need to begin within healthcare. Medical treatment of mental health dictates social treatment of mental health. I advocated for my own mental health, and I want to advocate for others as well.

My favorite game to play with my friends and family is Mario Kart. I got a Wii console when I was seven years old and I have fond memories of my brother, father, and myself playing together. We would work together as a team to beat other players in online racing. Even to this day, my family plays Mario Kart. My little sisters, one 12 years and one 9 years have a Nintendo Switch. The OG group (my brother, father, and self lol) take turns playing with the younger ones in online racing. While one of us races to the finish line, others will wipe out anyone who stands in their way! My favorite occasion where our family was playing together was when my brother, my two sisters, and I were racing on the Animal Crossing course. My 9-year-old little sister absolutely devastated the lobby (we were playing online) when she wiped out everyone who even attempted to get close to my brother while he was racing for the finish line. It was hilarious. She would get so excited to wipe someone out with a power-up that she would start puffing up about it and being all sarcastic. It was great! My brother won with me and my little sisters following.