Pursuing a Master of Social Work (MSW) as a first-generation student is an accomplishment that holds immense personal meaning. My journey to this point was shaped by many challenges, especially growing up in foster care, but it also fueled my determination to make a difference in the lives of others. Becoming the first in my family to pursue graduate education was not just a milestone for me, but also a testament to the resilience fostered by my experiences. Growing up in foster care meant that I had to navigate systems and challenges that many children don’t face. I moved between homes, schools, and social workers, constantly adjusting to new environments and learning to advocate for myself. These early experiences instilled in me a sense of independence and a deep understanding of the importance of supportive relationships and stable systems. I witnessed firsthand how a lack of resources, guidance, and consistent care can hinder a young person's development, and it became clear that I wanted to dedicate my life to helping others who faced similar struggles. To prepare for this path, I had to develop both practical and emotional tools to overcome the barriers in my way. Academically, I sought out tutoring, mentorship, and other support systems to ensure I succeeded in school. I understood the importance of education as a way to break cycles of hardship, and I became determined to excel, even when circumstances seemed uncertain. I took part in college preparation programs and internships to gain real-world experience in social work settings. These programs provided me with both guidance and inspiration, and they helped me realize that my lived experience was a powerful asset in the social work field. Financial challenges were also a significant hurdle, but I found ways to access scholarships, grants, and part-time work to support my education. While many students may have had a support network of family members helping them navigate these challenges, I relied on the support of social workers, teachers, and community organizations that believed in my potential. These individuals became my surrogate family, providing me with guidance and encouragement, which helped me stay focused on my long-term goals. Being a first-generation student meant that I didn’t have the traditional familial roadmap to follow, but it also gave me the drive to carve out my own path. My experiences in foster care helped me understand that, no matter how difficult the circumstances may be, it’s possible to find a way forward. Pursuing an MSW was not just about achieving academic success; it was about using my own experiences to help others who had faced similar adversities. I want to be a source of stability and guidance for those who find themselves in vulnerable positions, just as I once was. In conclusion, pursuing a Master of Social Work as a first-generation student and someone who grew up in foster care was not easy, but it was incredibly rewarding. The challenges I faced throughout my life gave me the resilience, empathy, and determination necessary to navigate the complexities of higher education and social work. I now view my MSW as not just an academic achievement, but as a powerful opportunity to pay forward the support I once received and to create positive change for others.

Having struggled with anorexia nervosa for 15 years deeply shaped my journey toward becoming a Master of Social Work (MSW). The experience was not one I would ever wish upon anyone, but it has given me invaluable insights into the complexities of mental health, personal resilience, and the importance of empathetic support. It’s often said that the personal is political, and for me, this rang true in the context of both my recovery and my decision to pursue social work as a career. The battle with anorexia was not merely about food and body image issues; it was about control, identity, and self-worth. Over the years, I grappled with feelings of inadequacy, anxiety, and isolation. Yet, in the darkness of those years, I also found strength and resilience. I learned to advocate for myself, to navigate the healthcare system, and to seek out compassionate professionals who understood the intricacies of eating disorders. These experiences ignited my desire to become a social worker—someone who could support others in navigating their challenges. Through my struggles, I came to realize that understanding mental health on a personal level would allow me to connect with and guide others in ways that go beyond textbook knowledge. I was able to recognize the hidden struggles that many face, especially those who feel alone or misunderstood. This deepened empathy, combined with my hard-won wisdom, motivated me to pursue a Master's in Social Work, where I could gain the professional training needed to make a tangible impact on individuals’ lives. The recovery process also taught me about the importance of systems of support, whether through therapy, peer groups, or community resources. I witnessed firsthand how social workers, therapists, and other professionals play an essential role in the healing process, offering not just expertise but also kindness, direction, and understanding. This reinforced my desire to enter the field, where I could provide not only clinical care but also advocacy and empowerment for those facing similar struggles. In essence, having anorexia nervosa for so many years gave me a unique perspective on suffering, healing, and the importance of social connection. It allowed me to develop resilience, empathy, and a deep passion for supporting others. Becoming a Master of Social Work is not just a career path for me; it’s a way of turning my personal experience into a tool for helping others find hope, strength, and healing in their journeys.

The summer before I started my Master’s in Social Work, I faced an unexpected and heartbreaking loss—the death of my grandfather. His passing left a profound void in my life, one that has shaped my perspective and fueled my resolve to pursue this path even more deeply. My grandfather was a constant source of wisdom, support, and unconditional love throughout my life. He was the kind of person who made me believe that no matter how difficult life got, there was always a way through it. Losing him just as I was preparing to embark on this next chapter of my life felt both like a heavy weight and a call to action. In many ways, my grandfather was the foundation of my emotional resilience. He taught me the importance of listening, of being present for others, and of caring for people without judgment—qualities that are essential for a career in social work. The idea of becoming a social worker had always been rooted in my desire to help others navigate life’s struggles, but after his death, that commitment deepened. His passing reminded me that life is fragile and unpredictable, and it strengthened my conviction that the work I will do as a social worker is not only important but deeply meaningful. I want to be the person who offers support and care to those who are grieving, struggling, or facing challenges, just as my grandfather had been for me. Grief, in itself, has been a learning experience. It has shown me firsthand the emotional complexities of loss, and how important it is to hold space for people to feel, express, and heal. As I prepared to begin my Master’s program, I struggled with balancing my grief and my academic aspirations. There were moments when the weight of my grandfather’s death felt overwhelming, and I questioned whether I could manage the emotional demands of both my studies and my personal life. But I realized that this grief would also fuel my empathy and understanding as a future social worker. It gave me a deeper sense of compassion for others who are experiencing pain and loss, and it reminded me of the power of human connection during difficult times. As I move forward in my studies, I carry my grandfather’s legacy with me. His life and death have reinforced my belief in the importance of social work and the need for compassionate, informed professionals who are ready to support individuals through their darkest moments. My journey in social work will always be intertwined with the lessons he taught me, and I will continue to honor his memory by striving to be the kind of social worker who offers care, kindness, and understanding to those in need. Losing him has been one of the hardest experiences of my life, but it has also been a catalyst for my personal and professional growth, reminding me that the most important work we can do is to show up for others, especially when they need it most.

Having struggled with severe anorexia nervosa has profoundly shaped my desire to become a Licensed Clinical Social Worker (LCSW). My personal battle with this illness has not only provided me with a deep understanding of the emotional, physical, and psychological toll it takes on an individual, but it has also fueled my passion to contribute to the mental health field. I know firsthand the pain of feeling misunderstood, isolated, and trapped in a cycle of self-doubt, and it is this experience that drives me to help others who are facing similar struggles. Throughout my own journey with anorexia, I often felt invisible, as though my internal pain was not acknowledged by those around me. It was only when I received proper care and began to understand the complexities of the disorder that I realized how critical it is for mental health professionals to offer empathy, understanding, and specialized support. My experience of being a patient has given me invaluable insight into the intricacies of eating disorders and mental health struggles, making me acutely aware of the importance of compassionate, effective therapy. This personal understanding has significantly influenced my desire to pursue a career in social work. I want to be the kind of clinician who offers the kind of support I was desperately seeking during my recovery process. I want to create a space where individuals struggling with eating disorders or other mental health challenges feel seen, heard, and validated. I believe that the combination of lived experience and professional training can provide a unique, empathetic perspective that allows me to better relate to and support clients. This understanding is essential in helping individuals not only cope with their struggles but also break free from the debilitating cycle of self-destructive behaviors. Furthermore, my journey has instilled in me a deep commitment to improving the mental health field, particularly in areas where individuals with eating disorders may feel neglected or misunderstood. The stigma surrounding these conditions can make recovery feel even more daunting, and I am determined to be part of a generation of clinicians who work to reduce that stigma and provide compassionate care. I believe that as a Licensed Clinical Social Worker, I can contribute to a more inclusive and supportive environment for those battling mental health issues, helping them navigate their path to recovery with the same empathy and understanding I once longed for. In conclusion, my experience with severe anorexia nervosa has profoundly shaped my career aspirations. It has given me the motivation to become a Licensed Clinical Social Worker, dedicated to improving mental health care and providing the kind of compassionate support that I once needed. I am committed to using my lived experience, along with my professional training, to better the lives of those struggling with eating disorders and other mental health challenges, creating a more understanding and healing environment in the mental health field.

Growing up in the foster system, I often felt like I was stuck in a never-ending cycle of uncertainty and instability. My childhood was marked by the constant movement between homes, never truly belonging anywhere, and struggling to find a sense of security or permanence. The foster system, though intended to provide care, often left me feeling invisible, unheard, and powerless. Yet, despite the challenges, I always dreamed of something better—something beyond the limitations of my circumstances. I dreamed of escaping the cycle of poverty, neglect, and uncertainty that defined my early years, and higher education became the path I saw as my way out. From a young age, I knew that education was my ticket to a better life. While my peers seemed to have stable homes and clear futures, I felt as though I had to fight harder to prove myself, to carve out a space for my own success. Books and learning became my refuge, the only things that felt within my control. I realized early on that if I could earn a degree, I could change the trajectory of my life and escape the emotional and financial instability that the foster system had imposed on me. The desire to pursue higher education was not only a personal aspiration but also a way to give back to others who were in situations like mine. As I grew older and more aware of the challenges that many underprivileged children face, I developed a deep passion for social justice and the well-being of children in the foster system. I saw how easily children like me could fall through the cracks, and how many lacked the guidance, resources, and support needed to succeed. That’s when I knew I wanted to become a social worker. Becoming a social worker, especially one focused on supporting underprivileged children, was the natural extension of my own experiences. I wanted to be the advocate I never had—someone who could speak up for children who feel invisible, someone who could help them navigate a world that often seems indifferent to their pain. I envisioned myself working with children in the foster system, providing them with the emotional support, guidance, and advocacy they need to thrive. I wanted to be the person who helps children see that their current circumstances do not define their future, just as I had once seen my education as the key to a better life. Education was my escape from the constraints of my early years, and now, I want to use it to help others find their own path out of hardship. As a social worker, I hope to offer children a glimpse of possibility—showing them that no matter how hard life may be, there are ways to rise above, just as I have. Higher education gave me the tools to break free from my past, and I want to provide that same opportunity to others who are stuck in the cycle of disadvantage. In conclusion, my journey from the foster system to the pursuit of higher education has been fueled by a desire to escape the limitations of my circumstances and create a better life for myself. Now, with a vision of becoming a social worker, I want to help underprivileged children navigate their own paths to success and break free from the cycles that hold them back. Through education, I have learned that change is possible, and I am committed to making that change a reality for others.

Suffering from severe anorexia nervosa for over 15 years has been one of the most challenging experiences of my life, yet it has also been a driving force behind my resilience and determination. As a single mother of two, managing my mental health while raising my children has often felt like an impossible balancing act. Yet, despite the years of struggle, I am in recovery today—and that journey, though far from linear, has taught me invaluable lessons about strength, perseverance, and self-compassion. For years, anorexia dominated my life. It controlled not just my relationship with food but my sense of self-worth, my emotions, and my ability to function in the world. There were days I could barely get out of bed, days where the thought of facing my children, let alone myself, was overwhelming. The pressure of being a single mother compounded this, as I had to push through the mental fog and physical exhaustion to care for my kids. They were my motivation, but also a constant reminder of the toll my illness was taking on both them and me. I knew I needed help, but for years, I struggled to accept it. The stigma, shame, and overwhelming sense of control that anorexia held over me made it difficult to reach out. Recovery, for me, has been a process of unlearning old habits and rebuilding my life in ways that are healthier and more sustainable. It means making peace with my body, learning to nourish it properly, and shifting my mindset from one of self-punishment to one of self-compassion. Recovery has not just been about food; it’s about healing emotionally and learning to love myself again. It's been about recognizing the strength I need to raise my children and set an example for them—a role model who shows them that it is possible to heal, even from deep wounds. But recovery is not static; it is ongoing. It requires constant effort to maintain the progress I’ve made. I recognize the triggers in my life—stress, perfectionism, and the pressure to perform—and I work daily to manage them. Therapy, support groups, and a robust self-care routine have been critical tools in my recovery. I’ve learned to practice mindfulness, to recognize when I need help, and to lean on others when I need support. As I continue my journey, I remind myself that recovery doesn’t mean perfection; it means progress and self-awareness. Balancing my recovery with the demands of being a single mother, pursuing a career, and maintaining my mental health is no small feat. But I am committed to finding that balance. My children are my greatest motivation, and I want to show them that overcoming adversity is possible. To maintain my recovery, I set boundaries—whether it's carving out time for self-care, seeking professional help when needed, or learning to say no when I am overwhelmed. I have found that managing my time efficiently, staying organized, and prioritizing my mental health are key to juggling the demands of work, school, and parenting. Pursuing my goal of becoming a Licensed Clinical Social Worker (LCSW) is a natural extension of my own recovery. I want to use my experience to help others facing similar struggles and to contribute to the mental health field in a meaningful way. By balancing my education and eventual career with the demands of motherhood and self-care, I hope to model for my children the importance of resilience, self-advocacy, and the pursuit of dreams, no matter the challenges. In conclusion, the path from suffering with anorexia nervosa to recovery has been long and difficult, but it has been worth every step. My recovery is ongoing, and I have learned to balance it with my responsibilities as a mother, a student, and a future LCSW. By prioritizing self-care, seeking support, and maintaining my commitment to growth, I am not only building a better future for myself but also setting a strong example for my children.

Having struggled with severe anorexia nervosa has profoundly shaped my desire to become a Licensed Clinical Social Worker (LCSW). My personal battle with this illness has not only provided me with a deep understanding of the emotional, physical, and psychological toll it takes on an individual, but it has also fueled my passion to contribute to the mental health field. I know firsthand the pain of feeling misunderstood, isolated, and trapped in a cycle of self-doubt, and it is this experience that drives me to help others who are facing similar struggles. Throughout my own journey with anorexia, I often felt invisible, as though my internal pain was not acknowledged by those around me. It was only when I received proper care and began to understand the complexities of the disorder that I realized how critical it is for mental health professionals to offer empathy, understanding, and specialized support. My experience of being a patient has given me invaluable insight into the intricacies of eating disorders and mental health struggles, making me acutely aware of the importance of compassionate, effective therapy. This personal understanding has significantly influenced my desire to pursue a career in social work. I want to be the kind of clinician who offers the kind of support I was desperately seeking during my recovery process. I want to create a space where individuals struggling with eating disorders or other mental health challenges feel seen, heard, and validated. I believe that the combination of lived experience and professional training can provide a unique, empathetic perspective that allows me to better relate to and support clients. This understanding is essential in helping individuals not only cope with their struggles but also break free from the debilitating cycle of self-destructive behaviors. Furthermore, my journey has instilled in me a deep commitment to improving the mental health field, particularly in areas where individuals with eating disorders may feel neglected or misunderstood. The stigma surrounding these conditions can make recovery feel even more daunting, and I am determined to be part of a generation of clinicians who work to reduce that stigma and provide compassionate care. I believe that as a Licensed Clinical Social Worker, I can contribute to a more inclusive and supportive environment for those battling mental health issues, helping them navigate their path to recovery with the same empathy and understanding I once longed for. In conclusion, my experience with severe anorexia nervosa has profoundly shaped my career aspirations. It has given me the motivation to become a Licensed Clinical Social Worker, dedicated to improving mental health care and providing the kind of compassionate support that I once needed. I am committed to using my lived experience, along with my professional training, to better the lives of those struggling with eating disorders and other mental health challenges, creating a more understanding and healing environment in the mental health field.

Taking time off school to raise my two young children was one of the most rewarding and transformative decisions of my life. However, returning to finish my Master’s degree in Social Work after a period of absence has presented its own set of challenges, both personal and academic. Yet, overcoming these challenges has been a testament to my resilience and dedication to providing a better future for myself and my children. The journey of balancing motherhood and academics has taught me invaluable lessons about perseverance, time management, and the importance of never losing sight of my goals. When I decided to take a break from my studies to raise my children, I knew that it was the right decision for my family. As a mother, I wanted to be fully present during their formative years, guiding them through their early childhood development and providing them with the love and care they needed. During this period, I often questioned whether I would ever return to finish my degree or if my career goals would remain a distant dream. However, as my children grew older and became more independent, I began to realize that returning to school was not only important for my own personal growth but also for setting an example for them. I wanted them to see that hard work, dedication, and the pursuit of education are essential values. My decision to return to my Master’s program in Social Work was driven by a desire to create a more stable and fulfilling future for my family, and by the belief that I could contribute more meaningfully to my community as a social worker. The transition back to school, however, was far from easy. After being away for several years, I found that the demands of academia had changed. The rigorous coursework, research projects, and clinical placements presented significant challenges, especially when trying to juggle these with the needs of my children. At times, I felt overwhelmed by the competing demands of motherhood, school, and work. One of the biggest hurdles I faced was time management. With two young children at home, I had to be highly disciplined in creating a schedule that allowed me to balance studying, attending classes, and being present for my kids. This required setting clear boundaries, prioritizing my tasks, and learning to be flexible when life inevitably threw curveballs my way. There were moments when I had to study late into the night or sacrifice personal time to meet deadlines, but I kept reminding myself that this sacrifice was temporary and that the rewards would be worth it. Another challenge I encountered was the emotional toll of returning to school. After being away from academia for a few years, I sometimes doubted my ability to succeed. There were moments of self-doubt when I questioned whether I was making the right decision, particularly when balancing the demands of parenting and coursework. Ultimately, returning to finish my Master’s in Social Work has been a journey of growth, resilience, and determination. Overcoming the challenges of taking time off and returning to school has not only strengthened my academic and professional abilities but has also reinforced my sense of purpose. It has reminded me that with determination and support, it is possible to balance the demands of motherhood and education. More importantly, it has given me the tools and the motivation to continue striving toward my goals, ensuring a brighter future for both myself and my children.

Balancing my educational pursuits as a single mother has been one of the most challenging yet rewarding experiences of my life. The journey has required a great deal of resilience, discipline, and perseverance, but it has also been deeply rooted in my desire to create a better life for my children and break the cycle of adversity that I faced growing up. Being raised in the foster system profoundly shaped my determination to strive for more, and it has made me a more committed and driven mother. Achieving a degree not only represents personal accomplishment but also holds the promise of a brighter future for my children. My experiences in the foster care system taught me many life lessons, some of which were incredibly difficult to endure. As a child, I often felt uncertain about my place in the world and struggled with a lack of stability and consistency in my life. This experience fostered a deep sense of resilience, but it also instilled in me a strong desire to give my children the security and opportunities I never had. I vowed that I would do everything within my power to break the generational cycles of neglect and instability that I experienced, so my children would have a better chance at a successful and fulfilling life. Becoming a mother only strengthened this resolve. I realized that, in order to provide my children with the resources, opportunities, and emotional stability they deserve, I had to set an example of perseverance, dedication, and the value of education. Being a single mother adds another layer of complexity to this challenge, as I juggle the responsibilities of childcare, household management, and financial obligations while trying to excel in my studies. However, every late-night study session and every moment of exhaustion reminds me of the importance of what I’m working toward. Achieving a degree is not just an academic milestone; it is a means of creating a brighter, more stable future for my children. Education opens doors to better career opportunities, which can provide financial stability and a better quality of life. I want to show my children that hard work and dedication can lead to success, and that no circumstance, no matter how difficult, defines their potential. I want them to grow up in an environment where they understand the value of education and feel encouraged to pursue their own goals with determination and confidence. Moreover, having a degree will also equip me with the skills to become a better role model. It will teach my children that perseverance, despite challenges, is a pathway to success. I want them to see that, even when life feels difficult, the pursuit of education and personal growth is something worth fighting for. By setting this example, I hope to instill in them the importance of never giving up, regardless of the obstacles life may throw their way. In conclusion, balancing my educational pursuits as a single mother is not easy, but it is a journey that I embrace wholeheartedly. My experiences in the foster system have made me more determined than ever to break the cycle and create a better future for my children. Achieving a degree is not just an academic achievement; it symbolizes hope, resilience, and the belief that a better life is possible.

Balancing my educational pursuits as a single mother has been one of the most challenging yet rewarding experiences of my life. The journey has required a great deal of resilience, discipline, and perseverance, but it has also been deeply rooted in my desire to create a better life for my children and break the cycle of adversity that I faced growing up. Being raised in the foster system profoundly shaped my determination to strive for more, and it has made me a more committed and driven mother. Achieving a degree not only represents personal accomplishment but also holds the promise of a brighter future for my children. My experiences in the foster care system taught me many life lessons, some of which were incredibly difficult to endure. As a child, I often felt uncertain about my place in the world and struggled with a lack of stability and consistency in my life. This experience fostered a deep sense of resilience, but it also instilled in me a strong desire to give my children the security and opportunities I never had. I vowed that I would do everything within my power to break the generational cycles of neglect and instability that I experienced, so my children would have a better chance at a successful and fulfilling life. Becoming a mother only strengthened this resolve. I realized that, in order to provide my children with the resources, opportunities, and emotional stability they deserve, I had to set an example of perseverance, dedication, and the value of education. Being a single mother adds another layer of complexity to this challenge, as I juggle the responsibilities of childcare, household management, and financial obligations while trying to excel in my studies. However, every late-night study session and every moment of exhaustion reminds me of the importance of what I’m working toward. Achieving a degree is not just an academic milestone; it is a means of creating a brighter, more stable future for my children. Education opens doors to better career opportunities, which can provide financial stability and a better quality of life. I want to show my children that hard work and dedication can lead to success, and that no circumstance, no matter how difficult, defines their potential. I want them to grow up in an environment where they understand the value of education and feel encouraged to pursue their own goals with determination and confidence. Moreover, having a degree will also equip me with the skills to become a better role model. It will teach my children that perseverance, despite challenges, is a pathway to success. I want them to see that, even when life feels difficult, the pursuit of education and personal growth is something worth fighting for. By setting this example, I hope to instill in them the importance of never giving up, regardless of the obstacles life may throw their way. In conclusion, balancing my educational pursuits as a single mother is not easy, but it is a journey that I embrace wholeheartedly. My experiences in the foster system have made me more determined than ever to break the cycle and create a better future for my children. Achieving a degree is not just an academic achievement; it is a symbol of hope, resilience, and the belief that a better life is possible. By continuing my education, I am not only investing in myself but also in the future of my children, ensuring they have the opportunities they deserve and the knowledge that they too can overcome any challenge they may face.

The message that "anyone can go to college" was often highlighted when I was younger but never seemed feasible for me. No one in my family had ever completed their educational pursuits, my mother dropped out after a few semesters and my grandfather never made it past the first year. My perspective became that "anyone can sign up for college, but no one finishes it". It became even more prevalent to me that college was not an option after I became a ward of the court when I was twelve. Moving between group homes and youth shelters, there was no chance that someone would take a "dysfunctional youth" at their university. Throughout this period of my life, I kept decent grades but it was difficult to keep up with the constant moving around. When I graduated from high school, I did not pursue college as I did not think I had that opportunity. Then when I was eighteen years old, I found out I was pregnant. As a single mother, living in a tiny town there were limited job opportunities. After a few years of struggling to find a job that was lucrative enough to support myself and my child, I decided to enroll in the local community college. I figured taking a few courses while juggling being a mother and working would not be too difficult. A marriage and two children later, I finally graduated with two associate's degrees. The nearest university was over two hours away, which made it nearly impossible to attend. I re-entered the workforce and found my spot in the local behavioral health clinic. This began an almost four-year break in my educational pursuits. My family decided to relocate to Las Vegas to be closer to my grandmother. I enrolled at UNLV right away and completed a semester before realizing that paying out-of-state tuition was too much of a financial burden and did not return the following semester. Two years later I had divorced my husband and found myself to be a single mother while juggling a career as a correctional officer. I knew there was no room for advancement without a degree, so I petitioned for in-state tuition rates and returned to UNLV. I have spent the last four years finishing my Bachelor's degree in Psychology and my Master's degree in Social Work. Being a first-generation, single mother, taking multiple breaks along the way, and in my thirties now; I am finally looking toward graduation. I would say that my path was not traditional, but it has shown that despite all odds a college education is possible.

I have actively been working in the mental health field for over ten years. My path has been windy at points, but I have never lost the passion to make an impact on others' lives. In 2018 I was hired as a Forensic Specialist for the State of Nevada. My position was as a correctional officer for the mentally ill, who were court-ordered to complete a psychiatric hospitalization before they could face their legal issues. I struggled with the work requirements here, as finding the middle ground between corrections and mental health care was often quite difficult. However, I knew that I would keep supporting this population in some manner even after I left that job four years later. As my education comes to an end, I decided that I wanted to use my Master of Social Work license to return to law enforcement. This time though, I wanted to be the one supporting the individual struggling before being incarcerated. I found that the school district was hiring social workers to respond to crises throughout the area, to reduce the criminalization of youth. This was the perfect position for me! I had been working with homeless youth for the last year and with my background in corrections, I could finally blend my two passions and support those who needed me most. Once I graduate, I can apply for licensee verification through the school district and will begin in that role by the fall semester. I plan to incorporate all that I have learned through school, work experience, and my ethical standards to support these youth. By the time law enforcement and I are called, these students will most likely have had the worst day of their lives up to this point. It is my responsibility to slow everything down and get to the root cause of the situation. Often when a youth engages in unsafe behaviors, it is due to needing to meet a need. By taking the time to find out that need and connecting the student to the right support, I could essentially prevent them from entering the school-to-jail pipeline. For this to be successful, it is my responsibility as a social worker to advocate for appropriate resources. Right now, I am working with a team of administrators to continue bringing homeless youth resources to high school campuses across the Las Vegas Valley, so that these students can get the help they need before engaging in illegal activity to meet their needs. In addition, I am looking into state policies that reduce progressive discipline so that I can advocate to our school board and local government to amend these policies to be inclusive and supportive of all students and staff. By working in the field and advocating for policy change, I have a chance to make a long-lasting positive impact.

My mental health journey started at the age of 10. By this point in my life, I had been regularly sexually assaulted by my mother's boyfriend for over two years. At my annual physical exam, my primary care physician informed my mother that I was "anorexic - failure to thrive" because I had stopped eating and was losing weight at a rapid pace. I had no idea what the doctor meant by this but I spent the next 15 years learning the toll Anorexia Nervosa would have on my life. After that initial conversation, no one paid much attention to the damage I was doing to my body until my school principal intervened two years later. I went to a tiny performing arts school, there was only 30 students in the whole program. My principal was involved in everything we did; from academics, to dance class, to observing lunch. He noticed that I would never show up to the lunch area, or would make excuses about why I did not bring food that day. Then during one of our performance trips, I collapsed. He sat by my hospital bed the entire evening, waiting to talk to the doctor about what he had been witnessing over the last few months. It was that night that everyone found out that I was struggling with anorexia. After that initial hospital visit, I would spend the next several years in and out of treatment facilities, hospitals, and residential care programs. The sexual assault was reported by a clinician at the time, my mother lost custody and I became a ward of the court. When I wasn't in the hospital, I moved from one group home to another and eventually dumped in a shelter as I was "too difficult" because of the medical needs required to care for someone who had an eating disorder. I felt hopeless, alone, and unwanted. Beyond that, I hated every aspect of myself and desperately wanted to do anything I could to change who I was. I ended up trying to commit suicide a few times during this darkness. As the years went on, the mental health diagnosis list increased. I had anorexia nervosa, depression, anxiety, and post-traumatic stress disorder all by the age of 16. Life was so bleak, then shortly after my 18th birthday, I found out I was pregnant. It came as a huge surprise as I was horrifically underweight and had been told by numerous doctors there was no chance I would ever have children after the damage I had done over the years of starvation. I struggled to care for myself enough to grow that baby though, she was the most important thing to me. After months of discomfort and personal sacrifice, she was born. Annabelle was the most perfect baby girl I could have hoped for. On her eighth day of life, she awoke crying and so I began to feed her. Approximately 2 minutes into her feeding, her little body went limp. Emergency response arrived almost immediately and we were able to revive her. She spent 8 more days in the NICU before passing away from a rare blood disease. My heart broke that day. I fell back into the darkness and spent another seven years fighting myself. The grief along with the mental health issues I already had nearly killed me. It took two more beautiful children, a disastrous marriage, and a ton of therapy to make it to the other side. This is why I am pursuing a social work career so that I can be that support for someone else.

My mental health journey started at the age of 10. By this point in my life, I had been regularly sexually assaulted by my mother's boyfriend for over two years. At my annual physical exam, my primary care physician informed my mother that I was "anorexic - failure to thrive" because I had stopped eating and was losing weight at a rapid pace. I had no idea what the doctor meant by this but I spent the next 15 years learning the toll Anorexia Nervosa would have on my life. After that initial conversation, no one paid much attention to the damage I was doing to my body until my school principal intervened two years later. I went to a tiny performing arts school, there was only 30 students in the whole program. My principal was involved in everything we did; from academics, to dance class, to observing lunch. He noticed that I would never show up to the lunch area, or would make excuses about why I did not bring food that day. Then during one of our performance trips, I collapsed. He sat by my hospital bed the entire evening, waiting to talk to the doctor about what he had been witnessing over the last few months. It was that night that everyone found out that I was struggling with anorexia. After that initial hospital visit, I would spend the next several years in and out of treatment facilities, hospitals, and residential care programs. The sexual assault was reported by a clinician at the time, my mother lost custody and I became a ward of the court. When I wasn't in the hospital, I moved from one group home to another and eventually dumped in a shelter as I was "too difficult" because of the medical needs required to care for someone who had an eating disorder. I felt hopeless, alone, and unwanted. Beyond that, I hated every aspect of myself and desperately wanted to do anything I could to change who I was. I ended up trying to commit suicide a few times during this darkness. As the years went on, the mental health diagnosis list increased. I had anorexia nervosa, depression, anxiety, and post-traumatic stress disorder all by the age of 16. Life was so bleak, then shortly after my 18th birthday, I found out I was pregnant. It came as a huge surprise as I was horrifically underweight and had been told by numerous doctors there was no chance I would ever have children after the damage I had done over the years of starvation. I struggled to care for myself enough to grow that baby though, she was the most important thing to me. After months of discomfort and personal sacrifice, she was born. Annabelle was the most perfect baby girl I could have hoped for. On her eighth day of life, she awoke crying and so I began to feed her. Approximately 2 minutes into her feeding, her little body went limp. Emergency response arrived almost immediately and we were able to revive her. She spent 8 more days in the NICU before passing away from a rare blood disease. My heart broke that day. I fell back into the darkness and spent another seven years fighting myself. The grief along with the mental health issues I already had nearly killed me. It took two more beautiful children, a disastrous marriage, and a ton of therapy to make it to the other side. This is why I am pursuing a social work career so that I can be that support for someone else.

The law enforcement community is one that is near to my heart. In 2018 I was hired as a Forensic Specialist for the State of Nevada. My position was as a correctional officer for the mentally ill, who were court-ordered to complete a psychiatric hospitalization before they could face their legal issues. I struggled with the work requirements here, as finding the middle ground between corrections and mental health care was often quite difficult. In my last two years of school, I was hurt on the job and heart broken I would not be returning as an officer. Instead of allowing that hurdle end my career in law enforcement, I change my academic direction. I entered a master's program in the field of Social Work focusing on trauma. Upon graduation I applied to be on a team of social workers within the school police department. Now my role is not only to support the officers in the field with difficult cases, but connect with the officers on a personal level to support officer wellness. The reality of my injury could have left me in a place of victimization, instead I used that event to guide my future endeavors to support the law enforcement community in a different way. Although I am no longer on the front lines of law enforcement, I can be there for the officers as a resource to better themselves and their loved ones. My dedication to the field has not waivered, but my focus has changed. Is no longer to protect the community from violent offenders, but to support our officers in their daily assignments. Often times I have to take over a case that the officer is working on, because it does not fall under the classification of criminal activity instead it requires a social worker to intervene and support the individual or family to avoid further police involvement. By being that bridge between law enforcement and community, I can help be a guide through the appropriate next steps in seeking long-term support. Although my path in law enforcement is not a common one, I find myself humbled by the unique opportunities I have been awarded. They have guided my vision to not only support the law enforcement community, but also build up my local community members. It allows for the connection between law enforcement and community to grow and develop as we navigate this difficult world.

I come from an isolated small town in northern California. I was raised by a single mother who had a physical disability that left her unable to operate a vehicle. Life in a small town did not offer the opportunity to learn about other cultures or heritages. It was not until I was an adult that I spent any amount of time outside that small town. As soon as I could, I started traveling all over the United States. Then when I was twenty-four years old, I had the opportunity to move to Las Vegas, Nevada. It is one of the most diverse cities in the United States. My first few months living here were somewhat of a culture shock. There were so many stores, foods, and new people to meet that I became overwhelmed. It has been amazing though getting to learn about various backgrounds and cultures that I would have never encountered if I remained in that small town. Ever since I left, I have made it my goal to visit at least one new place in the United States each year. Two years ago I got to travel outside the US for the first time. I went to Jamaica, the Grand Cayman Islands, and Mexico. It was the most incredible trip of my life. I got to meet so many individuals along the way who taught me about the history of their land and introduced me to various cultural norms. I tried tons of new foods, finding my new favorite is jerk chicken from Jamaica. I hope to continue to stamp new countries in my passport, while visiting at least one new country every two years. As a social worker, I must learn more about other cultures, perspectives, and environments. It will be my responsibility to support individuals from diverse backgrounds and the only way I can do that effectively is by learning as much as I can about their culture. By embracing travel and learning from my experiences within different countries, I can get first-hand insight into the lives these individuals live daily. This will allow me to incorporate important cultural aspects into their treatment plans while also understanding the various situations they come from.

While I am not entering the technology area specifically, technology has the potential to impact my work greatly. I am finishing my Master of Social Work degree focusing on trauma-informed practice. One area in which technology can impact my clientele is through exposure therapy. There are programs on virtual reality headsets that can safely expose clients to their greatest fears. These programs are evidence-based and have shown to be effective in reducing post-traumatic stress disorder symptoms when combined with talk therapy. As a new therapist working with traumatized individuals, access to these cutting-edge interventions offers my clientele the potential to have a better future. As they begin to speak on their fears and past traumatization, I can create a personalized exposure within the virtual reality for them to confront their fears in a safe space. By removing the fear of physically experiencing such traumatization again, instead of facing it within a space they have already deemed safe, the client can begin to overcome these deeply rooted wounds. Virtual reality has the potential to become a staple part of trauma therapy to help individuals overcome their fears. Another area of technology that will impact my work is telehealth. Many individuals need therapy for various reasons but may not be able to attend in-person sessions. By accessing telehealth the individual can still get the support they need without unnecessary hurdles. Telehealth is exceptionally important here in Nevada because most of the state is so rural. By offering these types of interventions clients who otherwise would be unable to access support due to geographical issues, can now seek support from qualified professionals regardless of how far they are.

My mental health greatly impacted my academic performance, especially when I first started college. My mental health challenges began when I was ten years old. My childhood pediatrician noticed at my annual check-up that I was malnourished and underweight. He identified it as "anorexia - failure to thrive". I was too young to understand what that meant, but he was on the right track. Not more than two years later, I was under the grip of anorexia with very little hope of recovery. I spent the next decade in and out of treatment facilities and hospitals. I never got the opportunity to attend a regular high school, as I was too ill to be on campus. I remained on independent study all four years of high school. This isolation hindered my understanding of pursuing a college education. I came from a tiny town and the nearest university was well over two hours away. The only concept of college I had was that of our local community college. It took me two years after high school graduation to apply there, as I was still too ill to attend on-campus courses. Beyond the physical limitations, the hatred I had for myself ran very deep. I was struggling with not only a debilitating eating disorder but was also diagnosed with anxiety, depression, and post-traumatic stress disorder. My mind was far too overwhelmed with these issues to focus on coursework. However, I decided to try anyway. It took me three years and multiple leave of absence to obtain two associate degrees. After fighting so hard to complete that program, I decided college was not in the cards. I took a four-year break from school and focused my energy on recovery from my mental health issues. After being in recovery from anorexia for over a year, I finally committed to enrolling at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas to obtain my Bachelor's degree. I knew if I quit one more time, I would not return, so I finished that program and immediately began the Master of Social Work program at UNLV. I am not going to pretend that my mental health is completely healed. There are still many days that I wake up and am overwhelmed by it. I am still highly sensitive about my body and appearance, taking all remarks very personally. Flashbacks and nightmares remain a part of my life. However, it is no longer all encumbersome. I have built the necessary tools to handle my mental health and if I do come across a time that it becomes too much again, I know I can reach out for support.

My mental health journey started at the age of 10. By this point in my life, I had been regularly sexually assaulted by my mother's boyfriend for over two years. At my annual physical exam, my primary care physician informed my mother that I was "anorexic - failure to thrive" because I had stopped eating and was losing weight at a rapid pace. I had no idea what the doctor meant by this but I spent the next 15 years learning the toll Anorexia Nervosa would have on my life. After that initial conversation, no one paid much attention to the damage I was doing to my body until my school principal intervened two years later. I went to a tiny performing arts school, there was only 30 students in the whole program. My principal was involved in everything we did; from academics, to dance class, to observing lunch. He noticed that I would never show up to the lunch area, or would make excuses about why I did not bring food that day. Then during one of our performance trips, I collapsed. He sat by my hospital bed the entire evening, waiting to talk to the doctor about what he had been witnessing over the last few months. It was that night that everyone found out that I was struggling with anorexia. After that initial hospital visit, I would spend the next several years in and out of treatment facilities, hospitals, and residential care programs. The sexual assault was reported by a clinician at the time, my mother lost custody and I became a ward of the court. When I wasn't in the hospital, I moved from one group home to another and eventually dumped in a shelter as I was "too difficult" because of the medical needs required to care for someone who had an eating disorder. I felt hopeless, alone, and unwanted. Beyond that, I hated every aspect of myself and desperately wanted to do anything I could to change who I was. I ended up trying to commit suicide a few times during this darkness. As the years went on, the mental health diagnosis list increased. I had anorexia nervosa, depression, anxiety, and post-traumatic stress disorder all by the age of 16. Life was so bleak, then shortly after my 18th birthday, I found out I was pregnant. It came as a huge surprise as I was horrifically underweight and had been told by numerous doctors there was no chance I would ever have children after the damage I had done over the years of starvation. I struggled to care for myself enough to grow that baby though, she was the most important thing to me. After months of discomfort and personal sacrifice, she was born. Annabelle was the most perfect baby girl I could have hoped for. On her eighth day of life, she awoke crying and so I began to feed her. Approximately 2 minutes into her feeding, her little body went limp. Emergency response arrived almost immediately and we were able to revive her. She spent 8 more days in the NICU before passing away from a rare blood disease. My heart broke that day. I fell back into the darkness and spent another seven years fighting myself. The grief along with the mental health issues I already had nearly killed me. It took two more beautiful children, a disastrous marriage, and a ton of therapy to make it to the other side. There are still days I struggle, but overall I can say recovery is possible. Due to everything I have gone through, I did not have much trust in others for a very long time. In the recent years, I have found that as a I build myself up then I have more opportunities to meet like minded people. My pursuit to not only better myself, but support others is due to what I experienced. I hope through obtaining this Masters of Social Work degree that I can provide solace to someone else that is struggling, providing hope that they too can overcome.

My mental health journey started at the age of 10. By this point in my life, I had been regularly sexually assaulted by my mother's boyfriend for over two years. At my annual physical exam, my primary care physician informed my mother that I was "anorexic - failure to thrive" because I had stopped eating and was losing weight at a rapid pace. I had no idea what the doctor meant by this but I spent the next 15 years learning the toll Anorexia Nervosa would have on my life. After that initial conversation, no one paid much attention to the damage I was doing to my body until my school principal intervened two years later. I went to a tiny performing arts school, there was only 30 students in the whole program. My principal was involved in everything we did; from academics, to dance class, to observing lunch. He noticed that I would never show up to the lunch area, or would make excuses about why I did not bring food that day. Then during one of our performance trips, I collapsed. He sat by my hospital bed the entire evening, waiting to talk to the doctor about what he had been witnessing over the last few months. It was that night that everyone found out that I was struggling with anorexia. After that initial hospital visit, I would spend the next several years in and out of treatment facilities, hospitals, and residential care programs. The sexual assault was reported by a clinician at the time, my mother lost custody and I became a ward of the court. When I wasn't in the hospital, I moved from one group home to another and eventually dumped in a shelter as I was "too difficult" because of the medical needs required to care for someone who had an eating disorder. I felt hopeless, alone, and unwanted. Beyond that, I hated every aspect of myself and desperately wanted to do anything I could to change who I was. I ended up trying to commit suicide a few times during this darkness. As the years went on, the mental health diagnosis list increased. I had anorexia nervosa, depression, anxiety, and post-traumatic stress disorder all by the age of 16. Life was so bleak, then shortly after my 18th birthday, I found out I was pregnant. It came as a huge surprise as I was horrifically underweight and had been told by numerous doctors there was no chance I would ever have children after the damage I had done over the years of starvation. I struggled to care for myself enough to grow that baby though, she was the most important thing to me. After months of discomfort and personal sacrifice, she was born. Annabelle was the most perfect baby girl I could have hoped for. On her eighth day of life, she awoke crying and so I began to feed her. Approximately 2 minutes into her feeding, her little body went limp. Emergency response arrived almost immediately and we were able to revive her. She spent 8 more days in the NICU before passing away from a rare blood disease. My heart broke that day. I fell back into the darkness and spent another seven years fighting myself. The grief along with the mental health issues I already had nearly killed me. It took two more beautiful children, a disastrous marriage, and a ton of therapy to make it to the other side. There are still days I struggle, but overall I can say recovery is possible. I am living proof.

My mental health journey started at the age of 10. By this point in my life, I had been regularly sexually assaulted by my mother's boyfriend for over two years. At my annual physical exam, my primary care physician informed my mother that I was "anorexic - failure to thrive" because I had stopped eating and was losing weight at a rapid pace. I had no idea what the doctor meant by this but I spent the next 15 years learning the toll Anorexia Nervosa would have on my life. After that initial conversation, no one paid much attention to the damage I was doing to my body until my school principal intervened two years later. I went to a tiny performing arts school, there was only 30 students in the whole program. My principal was involved in everything we did; from academics, to dance class, to observing lunch. He noticed that I would never show up to the lunch area, or would make excuses about why I did not bring food that day. Then during one of our performance trips, I collapsed. He sat by my hospital bed the entire evening, waiting to talk to the doctor about what he had been witnessing over the last few months. It was that night that everyone found out that I was struggling with anorexia. After that initial hospital visit, I would spend the next several years in and out of treatment facilities, hospitals, and residential care programs. The sexual assault was reported by a clinician at the time, my mother lost custody and I became a ward of the court. When I wasn't in the hospital, I moved from one group home to another and eventually dumped in a shelter as I was "too difficult" because of the medical needs required to care for someone who had an eating disorder. I felt hopeless, alone, and unwanted. Beyond that, I hated every aspect of myself and desperately wanted to do anything I could to change who I was. I ended up trying to commit suicide a few times during this darkness. As the years went on, the mental health diagnosis list increased. I had anorexia nervosa, depression, anxiety, and post-traumatic stress disorder all by the age of 16. Life was so bleak, then shortly after my 18th birthday, I found out I was pregnant. It came as a huge surprise as I was horrifically underweight and had been told by numerous doctors there was no chance I would ever have children after the damage I had done over the years of starvation. I struggled to care for myself enough to grow that baby though, she was the most important thing to me. After months of discomfort and personal sacrifice, she was born. Annabelle was the most perfect baby girl I could have hoped for. On her eighth day of life, she awoke crying and so I began to feed her. Approximately 2 minutes into her feeding, her little body went limp. Emergency response arrived almost immediately and we were able to revive her. She spent 8 more days in the NICU before passing away from a rare blood disease. My heart broke that day. I fell back into the darkness and spent another seven years fighting myself. The grief along with the mental health issues I already had nearly killed me. It took two more beautiful children, a disastrous marriage, and a ton of therapy to make it to the other side. This is why I am pursuing a social work career so that I can be that support for someone else.

The message that "anyone can go to college" was often highlighted when I was younger but never seemed feasible for me. No one in my family had ever completed their educational pursuits, my mother dropped out after a few semesters and my grandfather never made it past the first year. My perspective became that "anyone can sign up for college, but no one finishes it". It became even more prevalent to me that college was not an option after I became a ward of the court when I was twelve. Moving between group homes and youth shelters, there was no chance that someone would take a "dysfunctional youth" at their university. Throughout this period of my life, I kept decent grades but it was difficult to keep up with the constant moving around. When I graduated from high school, I did not pursue college as I did not think I had that opportunity. Then when I was eighteen years old, I found out I was pregnant. As a single mother, living in a tiny town there were limited job opportunities. After a few years of struggling to find a job that was lucrative enough to support myself and my child, I decided to enroll in the local community college. I figured taking a few courses while juggling being a mother and working would not be too difficult. A marriage and two children later, I finally graduated with two associate's degrees. The nearest university was over two hours away, which made it nearly impossible to attend. I re-entered the workforce and found my spot in the local behavioral health clinic. This began an almost four-year break in my educational pursuits. My family decided to relocate to Las Vegas to be closer to my grandmother. I enrolled at UNLV right away and completed a semester before realizing that paying out-of-state tuition was too much of a financial burden and did not return the following semester. Two years later I had divorced my husband and found myself to be a single mother while juggling a career as a correctional officer. I knew there was no room for advancement without a degree, so I petitioned for in-state tuition rates and returned to UNLV. I have spent the last four years finishing my Bachelor's degree in Psychology and my Master's degree in Social Work. Being a first-generation, single mother, taking multiple breaks along the way, and in my thirties now; I am finally looking toward graduation. I would say that my path was not traditional, but it has shown that despite all odds a college education is possible.

I have actively been working in the mental health field for over ten years. My path has been windy at points, but I have never lost the passion to make an impact on others' lives. In 2018 I was hired as a Forensic Specialist for the State of Nevada. My position was as a correctional officer for the mentally ill, who were court-ordered to complete a psychiatric hospitalization before they could face their legal issues. I struggled with the work requirements here, as finding the middle ground between corrections and mental health care was often quite difficult. However, I knew that I would keep supporting this population in some manner even after I left that job four years later. As my education comes to an end, I decided that I wanted to use my Master of Social Work license to return to law enforcement. This time though, I wanted to be the one supporting the individual struggling before being incarcerated. I found that the school district was hiring social workers to respond to crises throughout the area, to reduce the criminalization of youth. This was the perfect position for me! I had been working with homeless youth for the last year and with my background in corrections, I could finally blend my two passions and support those who needed me most. Once I graduate, I can apply for licensee verification through the school district and will begin in that role by the fall semester. I plan to incorporate all that I have learned through school, work experience, and my ethical standards to support these youth. By the time law enforcement and I are called, these students will most likely have had the worst day of their lives up to this point. It is my responsibility to slow everything down and get to the root cause of the situation. Often when a youth engages in unsafe behaviors, it is due to needing to meet a need. By taking the time to find out that need and connecting the student to the right support, I could essentially prevent them from entering the school-to-jail pipeline. For this to be successful, it is my responsibility as a social worker to advocate for appropriate resources. Right now, I am working with a team of administrators to continue bringing homeless youth resources to high school campuses across the Las Vegas Valley, so that these students can get the help they need before engaging in illegal activity to meet their needs. In addition, I am looking into state policies that reduce progressive discipline so that I can advocate to our school board and local government to amend these policies to be inclusive and supportive of all students and staff. By working in the field and advocating for policy change, I have a chance to make a long-lasting positive impact.

My mental health journey started at the age of 10. By this point in my life, I had been regularly sexually assaulted by my mother's boyfriend for over two years. At my annual physical exam, my primary care physician informed my mother that I was "anorexic - failure to thrive" because I had stopped eating and was losing weight at a rapid pace. I had no idea what the doctor meant by this but I spent the next 15 years learning the toll Anorexia Nervosa would have on my life. After that initial conversation, no one paid much attention to the damage I was doing to my body until my school principal intervened two years later. I went to a tiny performing arts school, there was only 30 students in the whole program. My principal was involved in everything we did; from academics, to dance class, to observing lunch. He noticed that I would never show up to the lunch area, or would make excuses about why I did not bring food that day. Then during one of our performance trips, I collapsed. He sat by my hospital bed the entire evening, waiting to talk to the doctor about what he had been witnessing over the last few months. It was that night that everyone found out that I was struggling with anorexia. After that initial hospital visit, I would spend the next several years in and out of treatment facilities, hospitals, and residential care programs. The sexual assault was reported by a clinician at the time, my mother lost custody and I became a ward of the court. When I wasn't in the hospital, I moved from one group home to another and eventually dumped in a shelter as I was "too difficult" because of the medical needs required to care for someone who had an eating disorder. I felt hopeless, alone, and unwanted. Beyond that, I hated every aspect of myself and desperately wanted to do anything I could to change who I was. I ended up trying to commit suicide a few times during this darkness. As the years went on, the mental health diagnosis list increased. I had anorexia nervosa, depression, anxiety, and post-traumatic stress disorder all by the age of 16. Life was so bleak, then shortly after my 18th birthday, I found out I was pregnant. It came as a huge surprise as I was horrifically underweight and had been told by numerous doctors there was no chance I would ever have children after the damage I had done over the years of starvation. I struggled to care for myself enough to grow that baby though, she was the most important thing to me. After months of discomfort and personal sacrifice, she was born. Annabelle was the most perfect baby girl I could have hoped for. On her eighth day of life, she awoke crying and so I began to feed her. Approximately 2 minutes into her feeding, her little body went limp. Emergency response arrived almost immediately and we were able to revive her. She spent 8 more days in the NICU before passing away from a rare blood disease. My heart broke that day. I fell back into the darkness and spent another seven years fighting myself. The grief along with the mental health issues I already had nearly killed me. It took two more beautiful children, a disastrous marriage, and a ton of therapy to make it to the other side. There are still days I struggle, but overall I can say recovery is possible. I am living proof.