It's like I wasn't wearing my glasses at the time. My vision of the event is blurry. Every time I blink, I'm wearing a different outfit. 
I blink once and I’m in my pajamas. I blink again and I'm wearing clothes my mother would disapprove of obviously making it my fault, right? I blink again, and I'm a little girl wearing my onesie. Yet no matter how many times I blink, the same thing always happens. 
I remember asking him to stop, probably the most reliable thing I can remember from an event I try so hard to forget. I remember questioning if it was okay because he was my boyfriend and I blink again, seeing nothing but emptiness. The emptiness that then leads me to desire nothing more than to forget. Since then I've had a hard time staying sober drinking at school, drinking at home, drinking at work, hoping to forget what my first love did to me. It was easy for me to become an alcoholic. From a young age, I can recall my mother kicking my father out of my house telling him to get sober. Followed by their mother’s drunken misbehavior as she was just a young woman attempting to cope with the hand life dealt her. I remember holding my older sister’s hair back as her eyes rolled back from alcohol poisoning questioning whether to risk my parents grounding her or saving her life. So naturally turning to alcohol was the best thing to do because ending my life would be considered “selfish” by most. I’ve recently hit rock bottom. There are countless nights when I get ready to go to a party, ten minutes pass, and I wake up in my dorm room not remembering anything that happened the night prior. A scary feeling that I’ve masked through a dark sense of humor. My stellar grades became something the old me would be ashamed of and I ran the risk of disappointing my parents. The same two people immigrated to a strange country to allow me to pursue a better future. The worst of it came when my best friend no longer recognized me. I’ve never believed I had an identity of my own making it hard for me to realize just how much I had changed. The disbelief in my best friend’s eyes when I told him just how hard I’d fallen led to a revelation. As if I were a child finally understanding how to ride a bike. Since rock bottom, I’ve been 63 days sober. Although it may not be much, it's just the start. As I continue my endeavors in college I’ve regained my desire to live to pursue a career that I hope I may one day help others in. I’m currently in my second year of Pharmacy, a stressful but rewarding journey thus far. I’ve come to the realization that happiness lies within oneself. As I continue through sobriety and improving my mental health I learn more about myself and the small things life brings to help one heal. Although the “event” may never be fully erased from my mind it’s something I’ve learned to live with. At times I wish to forget but life has blessed me with an amazing bunch of people who unknowingly keep me going. Through all my hard work, I’ve learned how to self-manage, the importance of finding peace within yourself, and the importance of goals. Goals like obtaining my PharmD and earning the “Dr.” in front of my last name, my parents, and my ancestor’s last name. I hope through my career I can impact people’s lives positively as many have done for me. I anticipate to graduate in 2029, a goal that can only be accomplished through hard work and dedication. As I continue my journey I hope to gain help from others so that I may pursue a proper education, help that I hope to pass on one day as I continue to grow. As I continue through sobriety I remember that this is all to one day help people to the best of my ability. My goals, family, friends, and my desire to become a better person will undoubtedly keep my sobriety alive. Even when times get hard it’s important to remember we were put in this world for a reason and as overused as the phrase “it gets better” is, it is nothing but true and I am living proof.

My whole life, I've wondered why I am the way I am. I struggle to understand and connect with everyone who has encountered my life. The issue is I know who I am, just not why I am this way. I like to see myself as a growing woman who shares compassion, intelligence, curiosity, integrity, and self-awareness with this world. Being self-aware also means I'm fully aware of how truly messed up I am. I can be a hypocrite, ignorant, selfish, angry, stubborn, procrastinator, perfectionist, and impatient. The list goes on. I'm most certainly not perfect. Nor do I consider myself anywhere near perfection. Yet every day, I strive to better myself so that one day, I can make everyone who's encountered my life proud. I've hurt a lot of people in my life. For the most part, it's been unintentional. Other times, like my extensive, almost humorous amount of suicide attempts, I've been fully aware of how my leaving this world would significantly affect those unfortunate enough to love me. At times, my suicide attempts have been out of spite. The rest have stemmed from an overwhelming feeling of loneliness. That feeling that every single person feels at some point in their life, whether in the shower while sleeping, or even at birth, is why I struggle so much in life. The funny thing is that I have loved before, and I have felt love from another human being, yet I can't help but feel lonely. One of my most recent suicide attempts led me to my first stay at a psychiatric center. Ironically enough, this attempt to end my life is what sparked my interest in a better future. I've realized that every person struggles just like I do, ultimately giving me an overwhelming desire to help in any way I can. It may be my "superhero complex," but I genuinely believe my compassion creates this desire to help others. I'm self-aware enough to understand that creativity is not my prime aspect; thus, I search for a way to help those I can. I have a love for chemistry and psychology. I intend to take that love and convert it into something useful by becoming a psychiatric pharmacist. I have never doubted that my life would eventually lead to a career in the healthcare profession. I've always intended to make my immigrant parents proud and to make due of all their sacrifices by becoming a doctor. I wish to help people, and luckily, I've found and now pursue a career that will ultimately lead me to accomplish all my goals. I'm now a second-year pharmacy student, and my experiences have undoubtedly reinforced my passion for this career. My excitement for learning small things, such as memorizing the top 20 over-the-counter medications and learning how to give vaccines, has taught me that this will bring me joy and help those struggling. Another reason why I struggle so much is my diagnosis of depression. I understand and empathize with people who share this illness, and I wish to help just like many others have helped me. In 6-8 years, I will be Dr.Solis-Mendoza. The thought of "Dr." in front of my mother, father, ancestors, and my last name has ignited a flame in me that has never been there before. That flame is what will propel me through pharmacy school and allow me to help as many people as possible.