Hobbies and interests
Yoga
Spirituality
Psychology
Learning
Chelsey Seibold
615
Bold Points1x
FinalistChelsey Seibold
615
Bold Points1x
FinalistBio
I grew up thinking mental illness was normal. My reality of going to bed every night in fear was as consistent as watching Sesame Street teach me the letter of the day. When I was 17 my father committed suicide and as the oldest of 7 children, our lives were never the same again. Because of amazing therapists I have learned that my childhood does not have to be my present and have the dream of becoming a family therapist myself to help other people find hope and healing in their lives.
Education
Brigham Young University-Idaho
Bachelor's degree programMajors:
- Registered Nursing, Nursing Administration, Nursing Research and Clinical Nursing
Miscellaneous
Desired degree level:
Master's degree program
Graduate schools of interest:
Transfer schools of interest:
Majors of interest:
Career
Dream career field:
psychology
Dream career goals:
Working in the ER, and labor and delivery. I also worked with underprivileged communities to educate new mothers.
Registered Nurse2006 – 20159 yearsSeminary Teacher to Youth
LDS Church2009 – 20134 years
Sports
Cross-Country Running
2001 – 20054 years
Arts
- Performance Art1999 – 2001
Public services
Volunteering
Service missionary2004 – 2006
Future Interests
Advocacy
Volunteering
Philanthropy
Entrepreneurship
Cat Zingano Overcoming Loss Scholarship
Burgundy curtains. I will never forget those ugly burgundy curtains with the fake rose print because that is where my gaze froze as a 17 year old when I heard the words, "We just found out that your dad took his own life." It felt so fake and like something out of a bad movie except I was in the movie and this was my life. 5 minutes before that man with the double chin came to let us know that news that would shake the foundation of my world, my biggest stress was trying to decide what dress to buy for prom. My life would never be the same. I was the oldest of seven children and we all coped in different ways although coping makes it sound like we were doing something productive when what we were doing was just walking around feeling like a gutted fish with no idea what our futures would be. My youngest brother who was everyone's favorite and had any constellation you could imagine in freckles on his face turned to drugs and soon our family was desperately fighting for his life as we went to rehab years later.
My dad was our foundation. He was everyone's favorite person and the friendliest man in the neighborhood. He would become best friends with every grocery store clerk he met and my friends always wanted to hang out at our house because my dad was there. He had a personality that was a magnet for human connection and I remember always feeling bored because everywhere we went he was talking and laughing with whomever was near. On the outside he was fun and exciting and the life of every party. On the inside he struggled deeply with depression and bipolar disorder. It was like he was a pinata that looked so fun on the outside but there was no candy on the inside; just empty darkness and a sadness that we could not comprehend as children. It felt like he was two people, although this was not the father BOGO we were wanting because when fun dad disappeared, there was so much fear of what he would do and how we would respond. He always apologized after he would be angry and hit us but it would always come back. The only thing that was reliable was the unpredictability of when it would happen again. It was so confusing to have the person you love the most also be the person who hurt you the deepest. Hurt people hurt people and he was hurting beyond what any of us could ever know. We couldn't know because it was so well gift wrapped in fun.
After years of therapy and battling my own depression, I have felt strongly the need to return to school to get a degree in therapy to help those with mental health issues. There is nothing more important in my life than helping others to heal when I know from a front row ticket perspective how to feels to have your life completely shattered and to face your own mental darkness. The light and hope is as real as the darkness if you have resources and my dream is to become that resource for other people in their lives.
Elizabeth Schalk Memorial Scholarship
Burgundy curtains. I will never forget those ugly burgundy curtains with the fake rose print because that is where my gaze froze as a 17 year old when I heard the words, "We just found out that your dad took his own life." It felt so fake and like something out of a bad movie except I was in the movie and this was my life. 5 minutes before that man with the double chin came to let us know that news that would shake the foundation of my world, my biggest stress was trying to decide what dress to buy for prom. My life would never be the same. I was the oldest of seven children and we all coped in different ways although coping makes it sound like we were doing something productive when what we were doing was just walking around feeling like a gutted fish with no idea what our futures would be. My youngest brother who was everyone's favorite and had any constellation you could imagine in freckles on his face turned to drugs and soon our family was desperately fighting for his life as we went to rehab years later.
My dad was our foundation. He was everyone's favorite person and the friendliest man in the neighborhood. He would become best friends with every grocery store clerk he met and my friends always wanted to hang out at our house because my dad was there. He had a personality that was a magnet for human connection and I remember always feeling bored because everywhere we went he was talking and laughing with whomever was near. On the outside he was fun and exciting and the life of every party. On the inside he struggled deeply with depression and bipolar disorder. It was like he was a pinata that looked so fun on the outside but there was no candy on the inside; just empty darkness and a sadness that we could not comprehend as children. It felt like he was two people, although this was not the father BOGO we were wanting because when fun dad disappeared, there was so much fear of what he would do and how we would respond. He always apologized after he would be angry and hit us but it would always come back. The only thing that was reliable was the unpredictability of when it would happen again. It was so confusing to have the person you love the most also be the person who hurt you the deepest. Hurt people hurt people and he was hurting beyond what any of us could ever know. We couldn't know because it was so well gift wrapped in fun.
After years of therapy and battling my own depression, I have felt strongly the need to return to school to get a degree in therapy to help those with mental health issues. There is nothing more important in my life than helping others to heal when I know from a front row ticket perspective how to feels to have your life completely shattered and to face your own mental darkness. The light and hope is as real as the darkness if you have resources and my dream is to become that resource for other people in their lives. I know that I have felt deep in my bones the need to help others out of the darkness and their families. It feels like I have had soul lice that has been itching to go back to school so that I can turn on the light for other people. Nothing matters more.
Elevate Mental Health Awareness Scholarship
Burgundy curtains. I will never forget those ugly burgundy curtains with the fake rose print because that is where my gaze froze as a 17 year old when I heard the words, "We just found out that your dad took his own life." It felt so fake and like something out of a bad movie except I was in the movie and this was my life. 5 minutes before that man with the double chin came to let us know that news that would shake the foundation of my world, my biggest stress was trying to decide what dress to buy for prom. My life would never be the same. I was the oldest of seven children and we all coped in different ways although coping makes it sound like we were doing something productive when what we were doing was just walking around feeling like a gutted fish with no idea what our futures would be. My youngest brother who was everyone's favorite and had any constellation you could imagine in freckles on his face turned to drugs and soon our family was desperately fighting for his life as we went to rehab years later.
My dad was our foundation. He was everyone's favorite person and the friendliest man in the neighborhood. He would become best friends with every grocery store clerk he met and my friends always wanted to hang out at our house because my dad was there. He had a personality that was a magnet for human connection and I remember always feeling bored because everywhere we went he was talking and laughing with whomever was near. On the outside he was fun and exciting and the life of every party. On the inside he struggled deeply with depression and bipolar disorder. It was like he was a pinata that looked so fun on the outside but there was no candy on the inside; just empty darkness and a sadness that we could not comprehend as children. It felt like he was two people, although this was not the father BOGO we were wanting because when fun dad disappeared, there was so much fear of what he would do and how we would respond. He always apologized after he would be angry and hit us but it would always come back. The only thing that was reliable was the unpredictability of when it would happen again. It was so confusing to have the person you love the most also be the person who hurt you the deepest. Hurt people hurt people and he was hurting beyond what any of us could ever know. We couldn't know because it was so well gift wrapped in fun.
After years of therapy and battling my own depression, I have felt strongly the need to return to school to get a degree in therapy to help those with mental health issues. There is nothing more important in my life than helping others to heal when I know from a front row ticket perspective how to feels to have your life completely shattered and to face your own mental darkness. The light and hope is as real as the darkness if you have resources and my dream is to become that resource for other people in their lives.
Mental Health Importance Scholarship
There is nothing more important than mental health. I learned this at a very early age of 17.
Burgundy curtains. I will never forget those ugly burgundy curtains with the fake rose print because that is where my gaze froze as a 17 year old when I heard the words, "We just found out that your dad took his own life." It felt so fake and like something out of a bad movie except I was in the movie and this was my life. 5 minutes before that man with the double chin came to let us know that news that would shake the foundation of my world, my biggest stress was trying to decide what dress to buy for prom. My life would never be the same. I was the oldest of seven children and we all coped in different ways although coping makes it sound like we were doing something productive when what we were doing was just walking around feeling like a gutted fish with no idea what our futures would be. My youngest brother who was everyone's favorite and had any constellation you could imagine in freckles on his face turned to drugs and soon our family was desperately fighting for his life as we went to rehab years later.
My dad was our foundation. He was everyone's favorite person and the friendliest man in the neighborhood. He would become best friends with every grocery store clerk he met and my friends always wanted to hang out at our house because my dad was there. He had a personality that was a magnet for human connection and I remember always feeling bored because everywhere we went he was talking and laughing with whomever was near. On the outside he was fun and exciting and the life of every party. On the inside he struggled deeply with depression and bipolar disorder. It was like he was a pinata that looked so fun on the outside but there was no candy on the inside; just empty darkness and a sadness that we could not comprehend as children. It felt like he was two people, although this was not the father BOGO we were wanting because when fun dad disappeared, there was so much fear of what he would do and how we would respond. He always apologized after he would be angry and hit us but it would always come back. The only thing that was reliable was the unpredictability of when it would happen again. Hurt people hurt people and he was hurting beyond what any of us could ever know. We couldn't know because it was so well gift wrapped in fun.
After years of therapy and battling my own depression, I have felt strongly the need to return to school to get a degree in therapy to help those with mental health issues. There is nothing more important in my life than helping others to heal when I know from a front row ticket perspective how to feels to have your life completely shattered and to face your own mental darkness. The light and hope is as real as the darkness if you have resources and my dream is to become that resource for other people in their lives.
I have found journaling, yoga, mindfulness, therapy and connection are some of the ways I maintain my mental wellness. Just like you can't brush your teeth once a year and expect to have no cavities, mental health hygiene is a daily thing that must be maintained.
Darclei V. McGregor Memorial Scholarship
Burgundy curtains. I will never forget those ugly burgundy curtains with the fake rose print because that is where my gaze froze as a 17 year old when I heard the words, "We just found out that your dad took his own life." It felt so fake and like something out of a bad movie except I was in the movie and this was my life. 5 minutes before that man with the double chin came to let us know that news that would shake the foundation of my world, my biggest stress was trying to decide what dress to buy for prom. My life would never be the same. I was the oldest of seven children and we all coped in different ways although coping makes it sound like we were doing something productive when what we were doing was just walking around feeling like a gutted fish with no idea what our futures would be. My youngest brother who was everyone's favorite and had any constellation you could imagine in freckles on his face turned to drugs and soon our family was desperately fighting for his life as we went to rehab years later.
My dad was our foundation. He was everyone's favorite person and the friendliest man in the neighborhood. He would become best friends with every grocery store clerk he met and my friends always wanted to hang out at our house because my dad was there. He had a personality that was a magnet for human connection and I remember always feeling bored because everywhere we went he was talking and laughing with whomever was near. On the outside he was fun and exciting and the life of every party. On the inside he struggled deeply with depression and bipolar disorder. It was like he was a pinata that looked so fun on the outside but there was no candy on the inside; just empty darkness and a sadness that we could not comprehend as children. It felt like he was two people, although this was not the father BOGO we were wanting because when fun dad disappeared, there was so much fear of what he would do and and how we would respond. He always apologized after he would be angry and hit us but it would always come back. The only thing that was reliable was the unpridictability of when it would happen again. It was so confusing to have the person you love the most also be the person who hurt you the deepest. Hurt people hurt people and he was hurting beyond what any of us could ever know. We couldn't know because it was so well gift wrapped in fun.
When you are a child you don't understand why adults do what they do. As an adult now, I can see that he was not a scary person but someone who simply had untreated mental illness. His bipolar made it feel like we were always on a bad amusement park ride and you didn't know if you should put your hands in the air and enjoy the ride or hold on for dear life. His bipolar made the high times so fun and high when he was in his manic phase. I remember just shopping and buying whatever we wanted and then spontaneously driving around town to see what the spotlights we saw in the sky were advertising. He would do headstand competitions with the football team at my school and throw the best parties that everyone wanted to be at. But when the depression phase hit, he was a different person. He was angry and explosive like the fourth of July and you wanted to run away and not be near because you didn't know what was going to set him off, you just knew it wasn't going to be good. I remember feeling so confused as a teenager on how to connect to him and feeling like I was causing the switch. I coped by resolving to do my absolute best to never be the reason to set him off. I never got a single A minus and was up at 5:30 am practicing the piano. I did my chores like a housekeeping robot and never talked back. I developed a people pleasing capacity that was on the professional level. As an adult, I have spent years in therapy undoing this internal wiring to perform for others and avoid disappointing people at all cost. But it had a very expensive cost which was my own mental health. After years and years of trying to be the perfect child I lost myself.
Even though I resolved to never repeat the mistakes of my childhood, human nature is to marry what is familiar, not what is healthy and my marriage struggled. I then had 5 daughters and felt like the walls were closing in and that I had no idea who I was and fell into a deep depression. I felt like someone had turned out the lights on my life after our daughter was born. I had no idea was post partum depression was. I only knew that I could not keep going feeling like every day I was moving in slow motion as I felt buried under deep wet dark heavy sand that continually piled higher on top of my mind and heart.
I went to a therapist and felt like it was the first time someone had turned on the light in my dark work and exposed how deeply my childhood had affected my current coping. I was like a hamster on a wheel frantically running to please everyone and going nowhere. The effort was leaving me exhausted and disconnected from everyone and everything in my life. I remember the counselor asking what it was I wanted in my life and I mumbled something about getting dinner ready and getting my daughter ready for bed. She said, "No, Chelsey, what do you WANT out of your life?" I realized in that moment that I had absolutely no idea because up until that point, my entire life had just been trying to survive and please my dad and then my husband. I remember going home and trying to write down things I wanted in my life. Not what I thought my husband wanted me to want, not what my mom expected me to want but what did I actually want. It was a strange feeling to want to want something from life besides emotionally surviving. I realized then that I did not just want to survive but I wanted to thrive. I wanted to mentally heal and learn how to feel alive. Therapy saved me. It literally gave me a new life by showing me that my life was not being lived but survived.
It wasn't an instant Wendy's drive through fix and took years of therapy to learn to heal. I knew I did not want to turn to drugs like my brothers but I knew that this other path would take a lot of effort and work. As I have watched my five daughters grow, I have felt an even deeper passion to model healthy relationships and teach about mental health to them. My experience is that anyone that has a brain would benefit from mental health awareness. I have done mindfulness certifications and different therapy through the years that has been life changing. Now that I am in a position to be able to know that hope is real, that people can change and that healing is available, I want nothing more than to help other people in their journey.
After working hard in college I received my degree in nursing thinking that is how I could best help others. I quickly realized working in an ER that every patient is a mental health patient. Although I could help stabilize their blood pressure and vital signs and keep them physically alive, it meant nothing if they did not have a life they wanted to live with passion, hope and healthy connections to others. I found myself spending hours in their hospital rooms just listening. I realized then that the physical symptoms may have brought them to the hospital, but the real healing they were seeking was mental and emotional. The one thing that all humans have in common is that we all struggle.
I have felt strongly the need to return to school to get a degree in therapy to help those with mental health issues. There is nothing more important in my life than helping others to heal when I know from a front row ticket perspective how to feels to have your life completely shattered and to face your own mental darkness. The light and hope is as real as the darkness if you have resources and my dream is to become that resource for other people in their lives.
Trever David Clark Memorial Scholarship
Burgundy curtains. I will never forget those ugly burgundy curtains with the fake rose print because that is where my gaze froze as a 17 year old when I heard the words, "We just found out that your dad took his own life." It felt so fake and like something out of a bad movie except I was in the movie and this was my life. 5 minutes before that man with the double chin came to let us know that news that would shake the foundation of my world, my biggest stress was trying to decide what dress to buy for prom. My life would never be the same. I was the oldest of seven children and we all coped in different ways although coping makes it sound like we were doing something productive when what we were doing was just walking around feeling like a gutted fish with no idea what our futures would be. My youngest brother who was everyone's favorite and had any constellation you could imagine in freckles on his face turned to drugs and soon our family was desperately fighting for his life as we went to rehab years later.
My dad was our foundation. He was everyone's favorite person and the friendliest man in the neighborhood. He would become best friends with every grocery store clerk he met and my friends always wanted to hang out at our house because my dad was there. He had a personality that was a magnet for human connection and I remember always feeling bored because everywhere we went he was talking and laughing with whomever was near. On the outside he was fun and exciting and the life of every party. On the inside he struggled deeply with depression and bipolar disorder. It was like he was a pinata that looked so fun on the outside but there was no candy on the inside; just empty darkness and a sadness that we could not comprehend as children. It felt like he was two people, although this was not the father BOGO we were wanting because when fun dad disappeared, there was so much fear of what he would do and and how we would respond. He always apologized after he would be angry and hit us but it would always come back. The only thing that was reliable was the unpridictability of when it would happen again. It was so confusing to have the person you love the most also be the person who hurt you the deepest. Hurt people hurt people and he was hurting beyond what any of us could ever know. We couldn't know because it was so well gift wrapped in fun.
After years of therapy and battling my own depression, I have felt strongly the need to return to school to get a degree in therapy to help those with mental health issues. There is nothing more important in my life than helping others to heal when I know from a front row ticket perspective how to feels to have your life completely shattered and to face your own mental darkness. The light and hope is as real as the darkness if you have resources and my dream is to become that resource for other people in their lives.