I once had a dream—a very awesome and fun dream, in fact. I dreamed of being a professional chef because I felt I was a good cook, and I loved making food for others. I even had others pay for some of my meals, and family members and friends cheered me on, believing I would make a great chef. So, I decided to attend culinary school and earn a culinary degree from my local community college. Instead of focusing on "what could go wrong," here's how it did go wrong and how I chose to interpret it. I wasn't fully aware of the possibilities of what could happen to myself and my dream of being a chef, but it definitely didn't go as planned. I struggled with anxiety about failing, making mistakes, and not allowing myself to enjoy the process. I thought I knew a decent amount about culinary arts, but I was quickly humbled by how little I knew. Knife techniques, standard cuts, and sizing, hierarchy systems, boiling water, proper knife etiquette, having the appropriate tools, technical exams, and eggs—all of this I had to learn and master quickly. I never realized how versatile, fragile, and complex it is to cook an egg without destroying it. I couldn't flip an egg in the air and land it on my pan without breaking it or overcooking it. I wondered, "Why are eggs so needlessly difficult and fragile, and why can't I get it right? I've wasted so many eggs already." In the culinary world, a chef's hat has 100 folds, representing a chef's mastery in preparing eggs—a sign of culinary determination and mastery, none of which I achieved. Near the end of my culinary school journey, I worked at a retirement home as a server in the dining room and later as a food prepper in two different restaurants at different times in my culinary journey. While working at the retirement home, I became consistently ill and showed symptoms of diabetes, but I was denied leave during these episodes. I informed the manager, who also had diabetes, but they had no regard for my medical safety. Later on, while working at a restaurant, it became apparent that I needed medical treatment, leading to an overnight visit to the ER. My blood sugar level was dangerously high at 414, necessitating a hospital stay. The only nice aspect was having a room with a nice view of the city. The next day, I was released, feeling crummy from disrupted sleep due to frequent insulin injections. When I tried contacting my then-boss, I received no response, which prompted me to do the next best thing. I returned to culinary school but dropped classes only a few weeks in. I decided to see if culinary was for me and try working at another restaurant to figure this out. However, as soon as I started, I also quickly learned I wasn't meant for it. I was fired after only two months. I lacked the skills for kitchen work beyond cooking, and the environment was hostile. I made many mistakes that were bad for the business, admittedly. However, I had no permanent workstation, so I had to move around constantly during my shifts. My boss often got upset with me for not working fast enough and told me to ignore my body's needs and the pain I was experiencing (I've had chronic pain since my first job in 2021, and they were aware of my diabetes). I was hired at the beginning of April and was fired in early June. At that point, I felt crushed. I was sad, ashamed, and drained of my self-esteem and love for cooking. I had suffered an actual loss and was in a mourning stage. However, despite the bad experiences, there were some good ones in my culinary journey. I gained wonderful and accepting friends with whom I remain close outside the culinary program. I also acquired high-quality knives, tools, pots, and pans used by professionals. I decided to pick myself up and return to college to pursue a degree in cultural anthropology. I met someone who inspires me to pursue my bachelor's degree. I also learned valuable lessons from failing to achieve my dream of becoming a chef. I gained insights about myself, my abilities, my needs, and what to avoid. I am now regaining my love for cooking as a home cook instead, slowly but surely. I had to learn "what could go wrong," and I had to suffer through it. However, despite the pain and shame, I emerged better and more determined. I had lost a dream but gained a much better one for me. What could go wrong? Failure, yes, but also a great learning experience and a drive for change and self-improvement.

As I continue to explore various areas of focus and potential career paths within anthropology, my ultimate goal remains unwavering: to cultivate a more inclusive and safer social and cultural environment for all individuals. This goal is a professional aspiration and a personal commitment that fuels my passion for advocating for marginalized communities and amplifying their voices to promote justice and equality. I come from a multicultural family: my mother is African-American and Indigenous-American, while my father is European Anglo-American, and both are US Army veterans. Throughout my early childhood, my sisters and I engaged in community service activities for US veterans and groups such as pregnant women and mothers living in shelters. We saved money and donated supplies to these communities, fostering a sense of empathy and service from a young age. I also have a proud, culturally Deaf, and Hard-of-Hearing older sister and am a member of the LGBT community. Throughout my life, my family has faced various forms of bigotry and ignorance, which has driven me to pursue acceptance and embrace others. I strive to be an active member of the world, uplifting those who feel marginalized. My main goals in my pursuit of anthropology are to understand and challenge ethnocentric and religiocentric ideologies, fight against them, and promote cultural relativism and positive cultural exchange. During my high school years, I participated in FRC robotics, where we were explicitly taught the values of "gracious professionalism," teamwork, and good sportsmanship. As part of this program, I volunteered to help reset the obstacle course for every match during the Madera and Ventura Regional FRC Competitions in my sophomore and junior years. These experiences further taught me the importance of community service and working collaboratively towards common goals. As part of my current fellowship, I am gaining valuable experience serving and advocating for local communities and organizations within Ventura County, California. My responsibilities include conducting research and data entry for the Mixteco community in Oxnard and supporting my fellow cohort members with their respective community organizations and efforts. I am eager to leverage this experience to positively impact the organizations and communities I serve and continue my commitment to fostering inclusivity and social justice. By integrating my personal experiences with my academic pursuits, I plan to impact the world positively. I aim to create spaces where all individuals feel valued and heard, regardless of their background. I promote understanding and acceptance through continued advocacy, research, and community engagement, ultimately contributing to a more just and inclusive world.

As part of my recovery journey, I have made it my mission to raise awareness about mental disorders like OCD. Through online forums, I share detailed accounts of my experiences with OCD, offering insight into both my struggles and my recovery. Many individuals have reached out to me for advice and support, and I make it a priority to respond empathetically, affirming that their experiences are valid and encouraging them to seek specialized treatment from OCD experts. I strive to provide a sense of safety and understanding to everyone who reaches out. Additionally, I make a conscious effort to remind my friends and loved ones that I am always there for them, offering support and a listening ear whenever needed. They have witnessed my battles and my growth, and I hope my journey inspires them to believe in the possibility of overcoming their own challenges. Currently, I am pursuing a degree in cultural anthropology and participating in a fellowship cohort dedicated to serving our local communities through outreach, advocacy, and research. My experiences with mental health and my academic interests drive me to be a compassionate advocate for others. Using anthropological methods and values, I aim to better understand and support those in need. In my future career, I plan to integrate my academic background with my passion for mental health advocacy. By promoting awareness, providing emotional support, and fostering inclusive communities, I aspire to make a meaningful impact on the mental well-being of those around me.

I went through a tough battle with OCD during my late teens and early 20s. I struggled with intrusive and obsessive thoughts during my junior and senior years, but things started to improve after I came out as LGBT and ended a relationship that wasn't working for either of us. However, I soon realized this was the beginning of a larger issue. After my first semester of college, my mental health took a turn for the worse. December 18, 2018, marked the official start of my mental health nightmare with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD). I've encountered hostility and ignorance while recovering from OCD. My best friend didn't believe me because I didn't exhibit stereotypical behaviors, and others accused me of lying because I didn't have physical rituals. I have Pure "O" OCD, characterized by obsessive thoughts. I also received inappropriate treatment, which made me feel isolated and hopeless. I had to drop out of school due to my OCD, which left me mentally paralyzed. I lost crucial years in pursuing a degree, facing misinformation, ignorance, and hostility. I didn't understand what was wrong with me and felt intense anxiety and fear. My quality of life deteriorated, but I kept going for my little dog, Lucky, who also experienced mental health issues and trauma. When I began seeking out treatment and OCD recovery, I had to use non-traditional methods to overcome my OCD, as there are very few specialists in my county. I learned to control my reactions, resist compulsive urges, and face triggers head-on. It was challenging, but I am stronger now, although I still have my moments of weakness. I actively contribute to online forums to support fellow OCD sufferers and educate those who may not be familiar with the condition. By sharing my experiences, I aim to raise awareness and provide hope for those who may be struggling. While I can't offer reassurance about specific OCD themes and triggers, I can validate the existence of this mental disorder and encourage the possibility of recovery and leading a fulfilling life despite it. My primary goal is to promote a genuine understanding of OCD and the potential for recovery. I hope my journey can help give hope to others who felt the same pain and isolation as I did and recover themselves. I give empathy and actively help those physically and online by validating what they are experiencing and feeling because I never want someone to live with the struggles I have faced during the most vulnerable years of my life. As of today, May 2024, I have successfully gained control over my OCD. I am back in school, finishing my last year of community college, and preparing to transfer to a four-year university by next spring. I still participate in helping others online in forums such as the Reddit forum for OCD. I am now in a community fellowship program with the main goal of serving local communities in need. I have used my perspective and experience regarding my mental disorder to be more empathic and understanding in my pursuit of helping and serving others. I want to let others know they can achieve and overcome their struggles despite adversity or lack of resources. I know that my OCD will always follow me, but I am more prepared than I was before, and I will never let it gain control over me again.

My good friend Ryan and I share a love for Pokemon. We've been enjoying the latest online features from Nintendo, particularly the online Pokemon co-op battles. One memorable moment was during a Pokemon Sword and Shield online play session. We typically get very frustrated in most Gigantamax Raid battles with bot players. These bot players usually have weak Pokemon and make bad move choices, and we weren't expecting anything different. However, a bot Pokemon added an unexpected twist to our typical play session in one random raid battle. We were all set with our chosen Pokémon, ready to take on the raid boss. The lineup was quite a spectacle - Ryan and I with our carefully selected Pokémon, and then the two bot players with a Lunatone and a Magikarp. It was an unusual mix, and we knew we were in for a challenge. As the battle unfolded, it became clear that having a Lunatone and a Magikarp on the team made things more complicated. The raid boss was annoyingly difficult - gigantic, with special powers that would negate any attempts to make it easier for us. They were also much stronger than your average Pokémon and could hit multiple times in one turn. We would teeter between getting closer to winning and losing. We kept teetering because of the pesky Lunatone that would not use a damaging move and kept fainting, and we only had three chances before the raid would kick us out of the game. Just when it seemed like we were doomed, something unexpected happened. It wasn't Lunatone that saved the day, but the Magikarp! You would think Lunatone would help us and use an actual damaging move, but the Magikarp turned out to be the hero we needed. This made things even funnier because Magikarp is known for it being "supposedly weak and useless" game and lore-wise. At that moment, any comments about Magikarp being weak and useless ceased to exist. It used the move Hydro Pump and landed the final blow that defeated the raid boss. I was open-mouthed in shock, utterly amused by the unbelievable that we would win because of a Magikarp. Ryan was equally as shocked, confused, and amused by what had just happened from his text messages sent to me. Both of us already assumed we would lose the raid, but we guessed that Magikarp wouldn't let that happen. Magikarp decided he would swoop in and save the game. It was a hilarious yet odd moment that surprised us all! We had an absolute blast sharing jokes and witnessing the absurdity of that play session. We were both in awe of the little schoolgirl and her lucky Magikarp, and we agreed they deserved all the respect and credit for the win. Despite its flaws, Pokémon Sword and Shield has remained one of my top choices for online co-op gaming with my friend, Ryan. The Magikarp battle will always hold a special place in my heart as one of the most frustrating, ridiculous, but amusing moments in co-op Pokémon play sessions with friends, thanks to that sheer silliness and the unexpected outcome.

I love animals, especially dogs, and I've noticed that dogs seem to adore me. I've struggled with severe mental health, self-worth, and esteem issues throughout my life. These feelings often stem from unkindness or a lack of understanding from others. I've felt very misunderstood and alone, as I've had difficulty getting others to treat me the same way I treat them. This has led to feelings of loneliness and social isolation while growing up. However, there was never a time in my life when a dog made me feel alone or misunderstood. My childhood dog, Buffy, was my first real best friend. We would play around together. She always slept on my bed and made me feel safe and good. The moment we met, we became the best of friends. I loved her, and she loved me. Dogs were always wonderful things for and to me. During my late teenage years, my mental health was growing severe. I was struggling to get out of bed and exist. It was extremely hard to keep going. That is until Thanksgiving day 2016, when a little dog would change everything for me. This little dog was almost hit by a car. He was skin and bones underweight. Frightened. Depressed. Hurting. In need. My mother and I got him and rescued him off the street. We took him to the shelter the day after and waited. We were given the clear and we adopted him. The name I gave him was Lucky Buttons, Lucky for short. One of the most rewarding experiences in my life was being Lucky's pet parent. Lucky taught me so much and gave me an immeasurable amount of love. I always struggled with finding acceptance and like-minded individuals, but Lucky, a little dog with an unknown past, embraced me wholeheartedly without any conditions. The lesson I learned from Lucky about unconditional love and acceptance is something I will always cherish. A dog's unconditional love is truly unparalleled. While I provided Lucky with a good home, he, in turn, saved me and gave me the strength to persevere through tough times. Dogs and animals have an amazing way of handling life. Despite everything Lucky had faced before we met and the trauma he had endured, he remained resilient. The sadness and emptiness in his eyes were replaced with happiness. He wagged his tail, hopped around, smiled, barked with pride, and showed signs of life. Lucky proved that despite all the odds, things could improve. Regardless of a dog's background, their innocence and resilience are admirable. Their love and acceptance are unwavering, which I deeply appreciate. I write this in dedication, love, and admiration, as well as in memory of my dogs, Buffy and Lucky Buttons.

Throughout my life, I have faced various forms of adversity, including bullying, prejudice, and ignorance, which have made it challenging to overcome. I come from a biracial marriage between a European-descent Caucasian man and an African-American and Indigenous-American black woman. Both of my parents have faced prejudice and discrimination and lost friendships or job opportunities due to their marriage and children. I have experienced various forms of racism and ignorance regarding my race and skin color. I have been subjected to hurtful slurs and told that I don't belong in my home city and am not recognized as my mother's child. At times, I have felt unable to truly express my biracial identity and family background due to both racist bigotry and anti-racist bigotry. However, I am currently exploring how to embrace myself better. I used to feel pressured to straighten my curly hair due to numerous backhanded compliments and constant pressure to "try it out." Despite the pressure, I have only tried it a handful of times, and now I actively choose not to straighten my curly hair. My curly hair is the only tangible way that shows a part of my mother mixed within me. It symbolizes my mother, and I have refused to change it. I do not want to be pressured to change myself and subsequently erase my mother in the process. I want people to know that I, as a biracial person and child, exist, and we come in a variety of forms. I have faced various forms of adversity that have been intertwined with different aspects of my identity and mental health. I have encountered ignorance regarding my experience with my cognitive disorder (OCD) and being a transgender (gay) man. For example, I once had a doctor at urgent care refuse to treat me during a mental health emergency and ask me, "What are you?" about my gender and birth sex. Additionally, I've had friends "test" whether or not I had OCD or tell me I am a liar for saying I have OCD, despite their lack of experience or education in OCD and its treatment. Both experiences left me feeling angry and in tears. Whether it was ignorance towards OCD or bigotry and ignorance towards trans people, I felt alone and like I could never win at anything. However, over time, I have learned that it is not me that is precisely wrong. I am different, yes. However, ignorance and bigotry were the issue, not me. I have made a deliberate decision to tolerate disrespect no longer or let bigotry and ignorance control me. Instead, I focus on becoming a better, more inclusive person. I face adversity based on my racial identity, gender, mental health, and LGBT status. I refuse to change who I am, and I continue to exist and help others without regard for those against me. I overcome adversity with self-care and self-acceptance.

Being a transgender man, I had to learn a lot of hard truths and unfortunate realities. It’s hard to open up, to tell someone earnestly who I am, without it coming back as an insult or being immediately misgendered. I had and still have to fight with some family members to stop calling me “she” or get them to understand ME! I often feel misunderstood. I think I have to always be on guard- even friends or a friend’s partner can or would say transphobic things towards me. I cannot react; I swallow and take it. Admittedly, it’s lonelier than ever being transgender. I don’t want to be transgender so much as I want to be comfortable in my own body and mind. I want to be a guy, a man named Alexander, who happens to be transgender. Admittedly, due to the sheer amount of hatred and ignorance, I do question at times if being transgender is even real, and I’m delusional. I do think of that. It was my Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder theme, which I became suicidal over. Why? The very idea of not being “me” as in a transgender gay man- crushed my entire world, and that I was utterly wrong about myself had made me spiral into suicidal ideation. However, I have recovered and have affirmed who I am to myself, and I feel stronger in who I am more than ever. Despite extreme ignorance, hatred, and self-doubt, I won’t let any of that stop or deny myself my identity and being comfortable in my body. I realized that those who wish to listen, learn, and be open to different kinds of people and perspectives are worth educating, speaking to, living with, and spending my time with. I do not waste my time arguing; it’ll only cause me more significant harm and give them more power over me. My chosen career or college major is anthropology—the study of humans, culture, their growth, and their development through time and space. Anthropologists, in their pursuit to understand other humans and their cultures throughout the earth, all aim to understand others. As a transgender man, this is something I wish others would do instead of actively denying my existence. Anthropology shows that every culture had people who did not fit within the black-and-white binary of Western-Christian thinking and mindset. Anthropology, done correctly and not using an ethnocentric line of thought, proves that humans are not all the same. We all differ from the fa'afafine and fa'afatama from Somoan culture to two spirit genders in Indigenous American people and cultures. The world is varied, and transgender people and people of different genders other than men and women exist throughout time and space. Admittedly, I don't know who influenced my interest in anthropology. I am also not entirely sure it is based on my identity as a transgender man. I love different cultures. Being transgender is not my entire identity; it is just a part of it. I come from a multicultural family. It is not only based on family origin, such as race, ethnicity, or nationality. My parents, a white man, and a black woman, met in the military. That influences who I am and my perspective on the world. I have a Deaf and Hard of Hearing sister who influences who I am and my perspective on the world. I enjoy various forms of pop media, such as video games, cartoons, films, music, and literature. Culture is any and everything and everywhere. No part of our lives is not influenced by culture. In terms of my goals, I have to start small. As of right now, I am finishing up my last spring semester of community college. I have summer and fall to finish with, and I will be transferring to university within the LA and Orange County areas of Southern California, my home state. I plan on meeting people of various backgrounds, interests, and goals to challenge and further influence my perspectives and thoughts. After I finish my undergrad degree, I plan on continuing my education, pursuing a graduate degree, and doing research. I believe that my specific background and part of my own identity are misunderstood - I think it gives me the ability to understand better and show empathy towards those who are also misunderstood. My own personal and overarching goal in life- is to be happy. I want to be myself and be accepted. I wish not to be recognized solely for my identity but be recognized for my talents and efforts in my interests and contributions. I am a transgender man named Alexander, but I am also a student, a dog dad, an inspiring anthropologist, a friend, and another human being. That is who I am.

During my high school years, I struggled with severe anxiety, depression, and undiagnosed at the time Obsesseive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD), which were closely linked to my sense of self. It was so severe that I had difficulty getting out of bed, showering, attending school, and being able to exist within myself. I experienced severe headaches and mood swings that became worse as I grew older. My mental health started to interfere with the activities I enjoyed or needed to do. However, during a crucial time of mental health struggles for me, I gained something that was more important than myself and was essential to my treatment of becoming better and the growth of my well-being. I adopted a dog I named Lucky Buttons, who became my best friend and a significant asset in my mental health treatment. Lucky was an abandoned dog who suffered from trauma, severe anxiety, and abandonment issues. When I found him on Thanksgiving day, he was close to death, but I took him in and nursed him back to health. During this time, I was struggling with my mental health, but Lucky's companionship gave me the drive to keep going. We bonded and became inseparable, and Lucky depended on me, making me realize I wasn't alone. Lucky would not only get better, but he bounced back from deep depression and hopelessness to living and thriving despite still living with deep trauma. I saw through Lucky that love and care can always bring the darkest of days to an end and lead to happiness. Throughout the years I had come to a realization of what Lucky represented and what his name truly meant. Lucky's name had a double meaning; Lucky was lucky to have been saved, but I was also lucky to have found and been saved by him. For seven years, Lucky was my faithful companion, and I promised to love, cherish, and take care of him, as well as all future dogs and myself. My mental health was not only crucial for me, but also for my dogs. My mental health will always be a continuous struggle for me. I will always have to challenge myself to improve and seek ways to continue on with my journey despite these difficulties. However, from the lessons I learned and the experiences I had with Lucky, I discovered there is always hope. Lucky taught me the value of companionship, true and unconditional acceptance and love, and also that no matter how difficult life may seem, it can always get better.

I love re-watching Yu Yu Hakusho (YYH) as it is one of my all-time favorite animes. It has a perfect balance of comedy, non-serious, and overall fun tone with its serious, heartbreaking, and deeper tones intermixed throughout its storyline. Though there are still NSFW moments, the story does not rely on or overuse them to keep my attention. The main characters are very distinct without coming across as too over-the-top. Yusuke, the protagonist, started as a hot-headed, rough, and heavily disliked teenager who often gets into trouble. However, he gradually becomes someone who had a lot of heart and strength without entirely giving up his entire personality. Kuwabara is also similar, but we see throughout the story that he has a vast heart, cares about others, and has a set of goals he is determined to achieve. While subtle and unspoken, the two demon characters, Hiei and Kurama, care for the entire team and each other with deep mutual respect. The characters bounce off each other with funny quips occasionally, and when the situation calls for it, they fight and defend one another with a heartbeat. The story and scenes within Yu Yu Hakusho slowly draw you in with its fantastic fight scenes and heavy emotional scenes. Character deaths and pasts mean something, both to the viewer and to the actual universe of the characters. The potential death of Kuwabara by the antagonist, Younger Toguro, sends Yusuke into a spiral, and he becomes instantly stronger to face Younger Toguro. Eventually, it is shown that Kuwabara survived, and Younger Toguro purposely missed his vital organ to trick Yusuke into bringing out his inner power. Further along the story, there are themes of growth, abuse, revenge, self-destruction, self-hatred, self-improvement, and coming-of-age. The story itself is action-packed, but there were plenty of deep and heavily philosophical themes and inner critiques of life and the choices we make as we grow. Yu Yu Hakusho has a type of charm and realism that is hard to find, not just in anime but also in various other shows, books, movies, and other types of storytelling for me. The story has emotion, does not drag out unnecessarily, and keeps you entertained. It shows without saying that there is a chance to grow, to redeem yourself, and to improve if you wish to. If not, you can follow the path of anger, self-hatred, and self-destruction, which leads to misery. I returned to Yu Yu Hakusho repeatedly to learn this lesson and find comfort in it. As a student and someone who struggles with issues similar to the themes of the show, Yu Yu Hakusho can be a great comfort and guide in addressing similar issues. Yu Yu Hakusho is the story that I choose to come back to time and again.

I wish to detail the story of my late teenage years to my earl 20's, from 2016 to late 2023 specifically. During this point of time in my life, I was struggling with severe anxiety, depression, undiagnosed OCD and before I came out as LGBT. I was struggling to just exist in my own body and mind, constantly in pain, lashing out, and could barely get out of bed to do anything. On thanksgiving break 2016, specifically thanksgiving day itself, it started out as a regular holiday. My mother and I found a little dog. We eventually rescued the little dog and I looked into his face and asked if we could keep him. However, we legally had to bring him to the shelter and have him stay and contact any potential owners before we could adopt him. A week or two has passed and we got cleared to adopt him. I named him Lucky Buttons, a name with a double meaning. Lucky Buttons, or Lucky for short, was on the brink of death. He was less than half his intended weight, with bones protruding from his body, dull hair, and a look of depression in his eyes. The vet had to give him an emergency IV to keep him alive. When I brought him back home, I initially had him lying on the floor alone, but then I decided to pick him up and hold him in my arms on the bed with me. Throughout his entire life, Lucky suffered from great trauma and anxiety, something that I could relate to as well. During my own struggle with extreme mental health issues, I found comfort in this little dog who needed someone dearly. Throughout my life with Lucky, I learned that he saved my life just as much as I saved his. Between 2017 and 2022, I struggled deeply with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD) and suicidal ideation. However, I realized that if I were to step out of Lucky's life permanently, it would not only hurt and confuse him but also greatly impact his emotional and mental well-being. Therefore, I sought out treatment for my OCD, anxiety, and depression, knowing that I had a responsibility not only for Lucky's physical care but also for his emotional and psychological care. Lucky's name had a double meaning - he was lucky to be alive, and I was lucky to have found and taken care of him. Lucky was my driving force in maintaining my mental health. In November 2023, I had to say goodbye to my beloved dog, Lucky, who was suffering from an aggressive form of throat cancer. Losing him was devastating, and it took a toll on my mental health. However, I eventually decided to adopt a new companion - a little schnauzer puppy girl who will be taking over Lucky's role in my life. I made a promise to both her, Lucky, and all future dogs that I will always love and take care of them, as well as myself. I realized that my mental health is not only important for me, but for my dogs' well-being too. Therefore, I strive to maintain my mental health and wellness to be the best caregiver that I can be for them.

During my late teens and early 20s, I suffered from severe mental health issues. In 2018, after completing my first semester of college, I began experiencing symptoms of a disorder that is often misunderstood and misrepresented: Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD). My OCD was so debilitating that it took me until 2022 to be diagnosed. It had taken complete control of me and tormented me every second of every day for several years. It became so unbearable that I had to drop out of school after just one day of the new spring semester in January 2019. During that time, I felt completely hopeless and alone. I have faced a significant amount of ignorance and hostility during this point in my life. I had a friend who "tested" my OCD by slightly moving my cup to see if I would react to it, not understanding that is not how the disorder itself works and could have many different themes regarding triggers and OCD. I had another person tell me I was lying about having OCD because they had a friend who was a psychiatrist and said that a person with OCD must have a ritual in order to have it, not being aware that Pure O OCD exists. The disorder itself does not require physical rituals to be diagnosed with it. I had a psychiatrist give me a treatment that was not only unfit for OCD but actively harmful to OCD treatment, which made things worse for me. Not only was I beyond hurt and angry that someone would test me or accuse me of lying, but I felt incredibly lonely and helpless that nobody understood or could help me. Every single day was pure torture for me as I felt an incredibly intense throbbing pain in my head, nonstop intrusive and obsessive thoughts and compulsions that would even follow me into my dreams and start the very second I opened my eyes. I felt like I was living a never-ending nightmare, and I felt there was indeed no way out. I lashed out, I cried, I escaped and avoided the world by staying in my room and trying to sleep my life away. I was in extreme emotional, physical, and mental pain, and I felt suicide was the only answer to my pain and problems. From the night of March 14th to the early morning of the 15th, I had decided I was going to look into ways of ending my life. I felt hopeless. I felt tired. I was in so much pain; it was all I could think about. I did my research and eventually felt tired enough to lie down in my bedroom until the unthinkable happened. Both my mother and sister burst into my room and was in emotional distress. I was confused and could not tell if they were laughing or crying and what was wrong. Then they told me. I found out my cousin had committed suicide. I was in disbelief. Everything felt surreal, and I felt a giant wave of emotions. Jealousy. Sadness. Anger. Grief. Horror. Confusion. Depression. Shock. Disbelief. I felt all of these emotions all at once. I felt like a horrible, selfish person and was horrified at myself for being jealous of my cousin's ability to do it himself. I did not want him to die. I learned that my cousin was suffering in silence. My therapist, when I told her about what happened and my mixed emotions, told me this reaction was common, especially given the context. I saw the consequences of suicide and just how impactful it was and is. I realized I had to get help to change and that suicide would not solve my problems.  During my journey of treatment and recovery, I learned a lot about myself, my disorder, and the society I live in. I realized that my disorder, OCD, is often misunderstood and misrepresented in the public space. So I took my time to learn about my disorder, how to treat it, and how to fight back against it. I also decided to help others by posting my experiences online, specifically about my OCD and the themes I suffered with. My goal was to educate those who are unaware of the disorder and to give those who may be suffering resources and hope that recovery is possible. I also learned that if I am truly tired of my situation, then I must actively do something to change it. So I made goals for myself to become more independent. At the age of 21, I applied and got my first job despite being scared to work because of my anxiety. At 22, I decided to try learning how to drive again, a pursuit I dropped when I was 16 because my anxiety and depression were too severe. A few weeks after turning 23, I finally got my license. Now, at 24, I am close to applying for graduation at my community college and transferring out to university for the 2025 spring semester. Through this journey, I taught myself to remain determined despite my obstacles, to embrace more positive thinking and the people around me, and that there is still life to live and fight for. There is currently no known cure for OCD, but there are treatments available for managing its symptoms. Although OCD is a lifelong challenge for me, I have come to accept this reality. However, I also choose to actively pursue my goals and strive for a better life. A tragic event involving my cousin made me realize the importance of mental health awareness and seeking treatment. My own experiences with mental health disorders have shown me the devastating effects of ignorance and suffering in silence that many individuals face every day. Despite this, I have learned that I can overcome obstacles and achieve success. I know that there will be difficult times ahead, but I have also discovered that there is hope for a brighter future.

Between 2019 and 2023, I experienced severe Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD), which completely paralyzed me mentally and hindered my ability to pursue a college degree. I had to drop out of school for a period of time untill I was diagnosed with OCD around 2022. Even after returning to school, I still struggled to handle my classes. I had always dealt with mental health issues such as anxiety and depression, and most people around me were knowledgeable about the signs and symptoms of both. However, few people truly understood what OCD meant and how it affected those who suffer from it. I have faced ignorance and hostility during the most vulnerable time of my life. Some people denied my OCD diagnosis because I didn't show typical symptoms like freaking out when something was moved slightly or having physical rituals. Even some psychiatrists gave me improper treatment, which made my OCD worse. I was all alone, suffering from the intense physical, mental, and emotional pain of my OCD every single day, every single second, and even in my dreams. There was no escaping my disorder. Admittedly, I was heavily in contemplation of ending my life. It was all I could think about due to the constant pain I wished would stop. I just wanted the pain to stop. However, one morning, I had to drastically change my mind about committing suicide. One night, I had stayed up all night long looking up ways to end my life. I was at rock bottom, and I felt there was no hope of getting better. I eventually closed my computer and headed to my bed to lie down. As I was in my room alone for some time, my sister and mother burst into the room. I could not tell or understand what was happening or going on until I was given the unfortunate news: my cousin, Saki, had committed suicide himself. Everything felt surreal. I felt such a heavy wave of emotions. I felt a mix of confusion, anger, horror, sadness, jealousy, depression, shock, and disbelief. Nobody expected this, and I was disturbed. I felt angry because I was selfish and jealous and wanted the same thing. I felt sadness because not only was my cousin gone, but he suffered in silence. It was pure chaos. Although I had just gone through researching how to end my own life, it quickly changed to researching how to get help. I saw the aftermath of suicide, and I realized that my choice was not the solution to my problems. I had to confront some harsh truths about myself when seeking help for my mental health issues. It became clear that I needed to take action to improve my situation. I began managing my OCD by taking medication, learning techniques, and stopping avoidance behaviors. Additionally, I faced my anxiety head-on by getting a job, obtaining my driver's license, and pursuing a college degree. I made a promise to myself that I would no longer allow my mental disorders to hold me back from achieving my dreams and living a better life. My OCD is my biggest struggle, and while there is no cure for it, I have learned how to manage and treat it. Accepting this reality has been difficult, but I had to move on despite this knowledge. When my cousin committed suicide, I realized the importance of acknowledging mental health struggles and taking action to manage them. My own experiences with OCD, anxiety, and depression have shown me the harsh reality of ignorance, loneliness, and suffering. However, I have also learned I can overcome these obstacles and thrive. I know more challenges will come, but I now have the tools to manage them.