The Truth

I’ve been lying to everyone telling them that I’ve been taking all of my courses online and everyone has believed me. Do you really think 5 different professors would let you take your course online? No. Some professors are pretty fucked up and don’t seem that invested with their students, which is one of my professors this year.

I am enrolled in AFRS 210-01 and LABR 250-01 which are online courses. My LTNS 110-01 course is mostly online so I could pass the class with at least a C without attending the class. But my Math 110-02 and ASTR 115-04 are the courses that I didn’t manage to finish up. My Astronomy professor actually apologized for not being able to have the tools for me to take the course online. My math professor never got back to me, after 3 e-mails.

Today is the last day to withdraw from a course with a doctors note with the punishment of receiving a W on your transcript. My professors in my Math 110-02 and ASTR 115-04 didn’t get back to me on time so I will be receiving an “F” on my transcript.

How am I feeling? I’m trying not to look at it as a bad thing. I’ll retake the course everything will be okay. I am human and these classes do not determine my success. I’m going through a minor bump so I can’t blame myself for this. Although, some may think I rpocrastinated on the due date, but how don’t you. The whole reason I moved back home was because of anxiety issues and dealing with these things was the last of my worries. I was trying to avoid that knot in my stomach that I am currently feeling. I am trying to stay positive, but it’s hard when I don’t have anybody to talk to. I fucked up real bad. I never curse on this blog because even though I say a lot of bad words in person, it’s not the way I like to go when I write. So I hope you get an idea of how upset I am right now.  My tears are literally at a red light now waiting for thoughts to attack the stop light and just run through my eyes. I want to be succesful. I crave success. I want to be someone. I will be someone. This will not knock me down. I will not give up. I will be okay.

This is very unfair because while all of this is happening to me I am standing by and watching everyone be happy and succeed. I am extremely blessed to be able to see those that I know pass there exams and classes. I am proud of them all. I just wish I was one of them. I wish I was going out on a Saturday night to drink alcohol that has never met my Liver. I want to come home at 2am and have no idea what happened the next morning. I want to have pictures with close friends with a cute wall behind us. I want to spend hours at the library while my friends and I fool around. I want to be included in the college experience.

Instead I am being included in the anxiety experience.The fun 24 hours where I am so worried about things that normal people don’t think about. Where I wake up every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday at 5:40am and realize that my parents left so I have a panic attack. Where at 5am I am sitting against my cold wall hugging my walls because I am scared that something is going to happen to me like the night at the gas station. Where every time I even get the slightest bit cold, I have an anxiety attack because my body identifies trembles as fear. I have to split a 10mg pill in half perfectly because 6mg and 4mg will cause my body to overreact to the medication. Where I wake up at 2am about 3-4 times a week with my heart wanting to burst out of my chest, a dry mouth, and having to run outside. But instead I spend it in the bathroom next to the toilet as every inch of my cold body shakes.

I hope that future me forgives me for the actions and decisions that I have had to take. I hope that I can be successful one day and look back to this year and laugh. I hope I turn out fine. I hope you stop fearing and start living. I hope you stop being embarrassed of your mental illness and stop hiding behind it. You are going to be okay. You don’t know God’s plan, but he wouldn’t make you go through all of this if he didn’t have something great at the end of the tunnel. Stop thinking so much, because those thoughts that you have in your head are what’s killing you. The thoughts of death and allowing you to live. Live, Irma, Live. Laugh your little heart out, it”s good for you. Stop worrying about the future because that shit isn’t even guaranteed especially not with that president of yours. Do what makes you happy and don’t give up on your education. I love you, and I hope you never stop loving yourself. That’s all you got.

A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones

– Proverbs 17:22

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Westlake Apartments

Back in July to August of 2016, I got screwed over by one of my friends (stay tuned for that blog entry) and was obligated to look for roommates/housemates on Facebook. By obligated I mean, if I wanted to attend San Francisco State University I was going to have to look for a place to stay. I didn’t get a dorm so I had to find an apartment.

I eventually found one with a girl name Laura and her boyfriend. It took awhile to find that 4th roommate but we did it. I paid $793/ month to share a bedroom with a stranger.

I lived in Daly City in the Westlake apartments, which are located in front of the shopping plaza. The apartment I lived in was a 2 bedroom 1 bathroom. In the first bedroom it was my female roommate, Aileen, and I and in the other other bedroom it was a female, Laura, and her boyfriend, whose name I believe was Jose. Aileen and I both had our individual beds, obviously, and Laura and Jose shared a bed. To most people, common sense would be to give the people with two beds the bigger bedroom right? Well not to them. I discovered that there bedroom was bigger than mine when I was helping Jose surprise Laura he gave me permission to enter their room. This was when I realized that she was very inconsiderate and not a nice person. She was in a sorority which I took a part in but they all ended up being a hot mess, also look out for this blog entry.

The first couple of weeks of living here I adapted rather quickly to everyones schedule and learned to stay out of everyones way.  The whole time that I lived there I learned to stay out of the kitchen from 6-8pm to avoid small talk. It wasn’t that I didn’t like them and didn’t want to talk to Laura or Jose but I got a weird vibe from them every time I ran into the in the house. I had a feeling that they didn’t like me so I tried to keep our conversations to the very minimum.

As for my roommate, it took her a couple of weeks before she took over the whole bedroom. When you walked into the bedroom my bed was directly in front of the door IMG_1296and Aileen’s bed was diagonally to the right from the door, in front of the closet door. In that room I only had my bed and one of those small white cubes from Target. Where as she had her bed, a bigger white cube, a mirror, her laundry basket and a huge drawer vanity like dresser that took up most of the room. I didn’t feel at home at all.

In October we began to get a very bad and problem that was getting all over over food in the kitchenScreen Shot 2017-04-12 at 6.51.01 PM. It was disgusting and I was the only one that killed them. By November they were in the bathroom and the bedrooms. Once we hit December a rat managed to infest our apartment. I come from a Mexican family that taught me to make sure my house is clean before I go out. The dishes had to be washed and my bedroom had to be clean. And that even though you can’t see the dirt on the floor, the table, or the couch, it’s there. I cleaned that apartment so mu50300220039__A8C6954A-F838-4CD9-8343-D60DAF9D8992ch. I don’t even think Aileen ever laid a finger on the broom. The ants really bothered me and it also got me furious how nobody did anything about it. Bugs don’t belong in your food. If you sent anything in the counter within a matter of seconds there would be ants all over it. I’m not sure why there were so many ants but when your roommate would leave the dishes to pile up for days, leave her food to rot, and never wipe the counters… it answered itself. It really stressed me out to know that nobody iimg_2730.pngnIMG_2731 the apartment besides me was trying to get it to be clean. I don’t like bugs in my food. This one time I made pasta and it lasted one day. Within one day there were ants all over the spoons and in the pot. This is when I began to stop eating because my food would always be covered in ants.

My roommate, Aileen, constantly let her boyfriend49835359899__6CD85A93-15C6-4649-9EFD-92D0621E55DC sleep in my bed whenever I would go back home for the weekend. How did I know? Well she would always text me, “when are you coming back,” which at first I thought she would text me because I thought she was my friend and wanted to hangout. Second, I would come back to find things on my bed that belonged to him. Third, she would make my bed in a way that I would never do. Fourth, she once told me the following words while on a hike, “whenever my 50646821472__3852D84E-E823-434F-8173-790C267C40CFboyfriend spends the night he can’t sleep on the same bed as me because I snore– so he sleeps in another room”. The first time it was an ear plug, didn’t think much of it. Second time, I found his watch under the covers and when I texted her she told me that he had sat on my bed. Which I wasn’t okay with because she would tell me how she didn’t like it when strangers sat on her bed, yet her boyfriend slept in mine? Third time, was another set of earplugs that where in my pillow case. After my anxiety issue at the fire house, I stayed back home with my parents for 2 weeks and she took complete advantage of that. She disrespected my things and she didn’t even care that while I was back at the hospital she was letting her disgusting boyfriend sleep in my bed. When I finally came back to the apartment, all of my things were on the floor, there were food crumbs on my bed, a random pillow, dirty ear plugs and a weird smell. I was in disgust. I had brought a tv into our bedroom because I thought we could use it for movie nights, but she had a different plan for it. Sex nights with her boyfriend. I’m not going to slut shame her so i’m not going to discuss her sexual activity that was done in that apartment.

My food. I worked 16 hours a week for $13.25 an hour. Food is expensive in San Francisco. Everyone who lives with roommates experiences having their food being eaten. I remember I would buy a dozen donuts from Krispy Kreme for around $10. I don’t eat a heavy breakfast nor do I like to drink coffee in the morning, so I liked to always have a donut in my car for after my classes. I would offer Aileen a donut, but she would take that as an invitation to not only eat the whole box but to offer it to her boyfriend. They were my donuts. Also, during the two holidays that I was there, Halloween and Christmas I liked to buy treats to use as decorations. I would buy a jar and out candies in them, because I am a very festive person. Within a day, Aileen’s boyfriend would just eat them all. Why? I want to know why there parents didn’t teach them a thing or two about respect what isn’t theres.

There was also this one time during Halloween where Aileen, Laura, and I carved pumpkins. It was probably one of the only times where I had hope and was willing to forgive them for being disgusting. Within a couple of days our pumpkins began to rot and attract bugs so Laura and I threw ours away. Aileen didn’t throw hers away until late November. At that point her orange pumpkin was black and had bugs crawling out of it. Laura and I had a small inside joke about this incident. It really just makes me question how people can’t be clean. It isn’t hard. I don’t even expect them to clean the house on a daily, but if they could at least try to be tidy it would’ve helped my situation.

I ordered some packages to the apartment and I have yet to get a text from any of them telling me that they have arrived. I received an e-mail saying that they have been delivered. It is more than one packages. As a matter of fact, I believe it’s 6-7 packages. Here is the link that says that it is illegal to open someone else’s mail: click here. You are committing a crime. But Aileen, I guess you are used to crime, since you allow your boyfriend to drink and drive. The day you asked me to go to a club with you and that your boyfriend and you were going to pregame and then drive to the event, you were basically asking me to risk my life. Inconsiderate. You’re old, Aileen, learn to mature. Grow up.

I’m not a confrontational person and try to avoid problems the most that I can so I never confronted any of them. I was in a new city, at a new school, potentially starting my new life. I didn’t want problems and I know that by posting this I risk them seeing it, but I want them to know that they weren’t good roommates/housemates. Laura, you cleaned but you did it in such a nasty way, no te enseno tu madre? Aileen, your like what? 23? And you can’t grab the Swifter and clean up? Jose, you were a good person so I have nothing to say to you. You always tried to make small talk but I’m socially awkward so I guess i’ll apologize for not being able to hold a conversation. Perdon.

Nonetheless, this post was a form of letting this out. I have held this anger for a while now and its time to forgive and forget. It is now in my past and I will be deleting them out of my life. The past is behind me and it’s time to take a step forward.

Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.

– Colossians 3:13

Don’t Ask Me About College

Due to all of my health issues that I am going through I made a very difficult decision that I don’t think I thought throughly. I made a choice that haunts me at night, because I crave education and it’s a part of my life. I decided to withdraw from San Francisco State University, because my health did not permit me to be far away from my parents. I was afraid of something happening to me like the day at the gas station that I am living in fear. My fear and weakness have made me take a choice that killed me. I am currently finishing my online classes and one of my normal classes online. I was obligated to drop my other two courses and get a “W” on my transcript. I am now in a situation where I have to give back all of my financial aid because I am not enrolled in 12 or more unites (a full time student). I now spend every minute of my days locked away in my bedroom or in my house because I am afraid of what my anxiety is capable of. I am living in fear and it’s something that isn’t me. This is not Irma Hernandez. There is a monster living inside of me controlling my brain. So please, next time you ask me about college and I say “fine”, either walk away or change the subject. Don’t ask me about the weather in San Francisco or what I do on my spare time between my classes, because I don’t have an answer for you. Better yet, I don’t want to give you an answer.

I am embarrassed that I spent all of my high school career taking advanced classes, doing 4 sports, participating in so many clubs, and doing 200 extra hours of community service hours just so that I could drop out of college. I am embarrassed because I love learning. I am fascinated with math, writing, ethnic studies and all those other classes that I never heard about. I love school. I was born to learn. And I blew it, because my anxiety has me living in fear.

Don’t get me wrong, I will be transferring to my local community college for semester and then transferring to the csu thats 30 minutes away from my home, but I still feel like a failure. I am still very embarrassed about having to withdraw.

So once again, don’t ask me about college. I know you mean no harm when doing so , if anything you are just checking up on me, but don’t. I feel like I let everyone down and it absolutely scares me. So please, don’t do it.

Thanks.

 

 

 

 

The Fire Station

It was genuinely a good day. It was Friday and I didn’t have class, but I did have work. I was totally okay with that, because it was also payday. I went to work and when I drove back home I stopped at Wing Stop. I was at Wing Stop for a good hour since it was overly packed. But after I got my order I went straight to my apartment. I spent my Friday night in my bedroom eating my food and watching Netflix, since I have absolutely no friends in San Francisco.

My roommate eventually showed up and begins telling me how she wasn’t feeling so well and that she needed to throw up. Keep in mind that I have an issue with throwing up and just a week ago prior to this I had an anxiety attack and had to call the ambulance. Also, my mind likes to play games with me and every time someone says things like “my head hurts”, my head suddenly begins to hurt. So when my roommate was telling me she had the feeling that she needed to throw up, imagine how I felt. I was still okay at this point, trust me. It wasn’t until she started throwing up, when I realized that I needed to get out of there. It was Friday night, approximately 11pm, and I was bringing my car up to the back of my apartment so I could load it with my stuff. While I grabbed my dirty laundry, I began to feel myself getting a little anxiety and my body get cold. I sat down for a quick minute and then quickly got up to start loading my car again.

By the time I was in my car it started to pour rain. My body was frozen at this point, not because I was cold, but for those who have ever experienced anxiety, your body just gets cold. I get on the freeway and I am still fine. Cold, but fine. So to exit San Francisco (and head towards Sacramento), you have to go on the Bay Bridge, and for the first part of the bridge you are under a bridge. I am highly claustrophobic so every time I get on this bridge I have to be talking with someone on the phone to help clear my mind. So at this time I was talking to my boyfriend, and although he loves me and is caring, he was mad. He absolutely hates when I drive home at night especially when I have anxiety. I didn’t have anxiety at that very moment but I had told him that I needed to get out of my apartment, because my anxiety was getting triggered. I got off the Bay Bridge and was now near Berkeley, when my body lost it. I was driving at 12:30am on Saturday in the pouring rain, while my body was freezing, had trembles, and I was now having an anxiety attack. I told my boyfriend what was happening, since I was still talking on the phone with him, and he got mad. He told me that I should’ve listened to him and stayed in my apartment and waited for it to be Saturday morning (9am) for me to go home. The fact that he was now mad at me was making my anxiety get a lot worse. I hung up without letting him say anything, and I took the nearest exit, which was University Ave into Berkeley. At this point I need to pull over because my body couldn’t handle the fact that I was driving. Thankfully there was a gas station so I pull into it and since there was no parking lots I stationed my car at a pump. I call my mom up and tell her the situation, and she yells at me for coming home this late. My body is freaking out so badly that I can’t be seated so I get up and walk out of my car and into the little gas station shop place. I ask for a bathroom and I go in and my nausea is what is most likely triggering my anxiety. My mom tells me to calm down, so I try but it just doesn’t work. I walk out of the bathroom and back into my car and ask my mom to come and get me. I’m at the point where I feel like I am going to pass out and I just need someone to give me a hug. The fact that I was in a city that I didn’t know was making my anxiety a lot more worse. My mom tells me that she can’t come get me because my dad has work in 3 hours and I am 2 hours away. So, I freak out more. I get out of my car and walk into the gas station and talk to the man. I hang up on my mom and tell this man I am having an anxiety attack and then walk out and get into my car again and turn on my heater. I call my mom back up, which is when she is crying. She tells me to stay put and that her and my dad are on their way. I absolutely cannot stand the fact that it’s going to take 2 hours for them to get here, so guess what? My anxiety is making me feel like I can’t feel my legs. I get out of my car and walk back into the gas station shop and this man looked so worried for me. I was still talking with my mom on the phone, when I asked this man to give me a hug. Which he did. He hugged me and told me that I could stay parked in the gas station until I was able to drive. My body was making me very impatient so I couldn’t be in just one spot so I broke out of the hug, told my mom that I had to call the ambulance and she said no but I hung up on her. I called up the ambulance as I walked back to my car, but then got asked for the address, which I was unaware of so I had to go back in to talk to the guy. I was then transferred to someone else on the phone and sat in my car while the ambulance got there. The lady who was talking to me on the phone, tried calming me down while the ambulance got to where I was at. I was told to turn on my emergency lights, so that they knew who it was that needed assisting. In about 5 minutes of calling them, 2 cop cars, a firetruck (later found out was actually a fire engine, i think), and paramedics showed up.

A Latino man came up to me and asked me what the problem was and I told him that I was having an anxiety attack and I was very scared. He then went over to the passenger seat so that another paramedic could check my heart rate (i think, i’m not sure what was happening, but I had a lot of stickies on me after he disconnected it). They told me that I was hyperventilating and that i needed to calm down. They asked me where I was going to late at night, and I told that I was headed home to Sacramento. At this point, the paramedics really just needed to know if I wanted to go back to the hospital. After telling the paramedic that I attended San Francisco State University, he knew that as a college student I was broke. He told me that it was going to cost around 1-2 thousand dollars to have me ride in an ambulance, depending on my health insurance. I told him that my parents were on their way to pick me up, so they asked if I wanted them to go talk to the man at the gas station about being parked here until my parents got here. I was very scared of being alone, so I was completely honest with them. I told them that I was very afraid of my anxiety coming back as hard as it was when I arrived. At that point, my anxiety had gone from a 10 to a 5 or 6. I was still hyperventilating and was only feeling better because people were there for me. The captain to the fire station, who was a woman, came up to my car and began asking me questions. She said, “do you think you can drive yourself to the hospital and wait there for your parents?” I, of course said no, because I was in no position to drive. She then walked out and started talking to the other paramedics. The paramedic who assisted me first, came up to me and said that the captain was okay with me going back to the fire station with them and waiting for my parents to arrive. Hr then asked me if I was okay to drive to the fire station. I said yes, since he said it was close by. I turned on my car, and my body began to tremble, and I knew I wasn’t going to be able to drive, which luckily the paramedics knew. The fire fighter who arrived with the captain, was told to drive my car for me. The captain explained to me what was going to happen which was, I was going to get driven to the fire station and wait outside for my parents to show up. I wouldn’t be able to go inside because, they are on duty (obviously) and they can’t really let “anybody” in to the station. I said it was fine, even though I was terrified, because I was going to be alone. The captain then told me that there was going to be a police unit driving past the fire station every 15 minutes to check up on me, which made me feel a lot better.

We arrived to the fire station and as soon as we arrived the captain actually ended up letting me go into the station. She told me that it wasn’t allowed, but since she was the captain she could whatever she wanted. She also told me not to tell anybody… so sorry Kelly. Although, she did say that every time they get calls I will have to wait outside in my car, which only ended up happening once. I sat in a room that sort of looked like a living room, which had like 5 recliners and a plasma tv. I watched “Cops” alone, while Kelly worked on paper work and the other guy ate. My anxiety was at about a 4 or 5 at this point, but I still really wanted to be in the comfort of my own home. Kelly then walked into the kitchen, which is when my anxiety shot from a 4 to a 7. Which sucks, because I was already inconveniencing these people. I got up, turned to Kelly and said, “Could you do me a big favor and give me a hug?” She did. She knew my anxiety was acting up, so she tried to clear my mind by giving me a tour of the fire station. Which is where she explained to me the difference of a fire station and a fire truck which I totally forgot. She told me how she also went to SF state but then transferred to another school and how she is also fascinated with photography.

They did get called out for an emergency (obviously) but she gave me her phone number just in case I needed assistance or I got picked up. I had to wait in my car, because I couldn’t be in the fire station, but as soon as she got back I was allowed back in. My parents eventually showed up and that was the end to that night, but not my anxiety.

Due to this even I am now traumatized of gas stations and cannot go to them by myself. If I do my anxiety is triggered and have a panic attack. I wanted to share this story, because anxiety is a mental illness that can’t be seen. The week before this very event I had to call the ambulance, well my roommate did, because my anxiety attack was very high. The paramedics showed up checked my heart rate and that was about it. It’s an illness that can’t be assisted by a call of an ambulance. No matter how many times you call them, you hear the same things. “Are you on medications to try and calm your anxiety?”, “Have you seen your doctor for this?”, “What do you normally do when you have an anxiety attack?”I am also not blaming them, because it’s hard to help someone with a problem that you can’t see.

Where I am going with this is that I have struggled with anxiety for years but it has never come to this point. What I felt at that gas station, the anxiety, the fear, the panic, the frustration, is something that I never want to put myself through again. I told myself that I was never going to get on medications to help treat it, because I am strong enough to over come it. But the truth is that no matter how strong someone is, you can’t push away help. I have learned that I am strong and I will continue to try and beat his mental illness, but I will be receiving some help. I was prescribed medication and I am receiving help. Every day is a battle and although people can’t see it, it’s there. Even though I am on this medication I still have very bad days. I have been taken to the E.R twice while on this medication, have been plugged into IV’s, blood drawn, but it’s just a bad day. I would take one bad day, one trip to the hospital, one sleepless night, one painful needle shot for a life of happiness. I will take every day slowly and try to get back to where I once was.

Homeless

It’s important that we remember to give back to those who aren’t as fortunate as us. I am currently studying at San Francisco State University and working in the city as a T.A for the GLO program, Postmates, and a full service shopper for Instacart. Living in San Francisco is not cheap at all, but I am blessed to have the little that I have. My jobs allow me to have money to be able to buy myself what I want. It’s normal. Recently i’ve been driving in the city a lot and I’ve been seeing a lot of homeless people which is “normal” in San Francisco. It makes me really sad. The other day I drove past a homeless shelter where homeless people were already lining up and it was barely 2:00pm. As “dramatic” as some may think I may be for saying that I did this, I cried. I am very grateful to have what I do, and that’s mostly because of my parents. I can’t imagine not having family or someone care about me enough to provide a roof over my head or nonetheless water. It’s crazy to me that San Francisco has normalized homelessness.

With that being said, I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday. If anyone is need of a little love or a friend don’t be afraid to reach out to me. I am all ears. Remember that it’s not about what you physically receive, but about who you surround yourself with. Not everyone has a loved one, so don’t forget to give back. It doesn’t take much to give to those who are less fortunate, because ones effort is always paid with gratitude.

 

“I accept the one whose faith is weak, without quarreling over disputable matters”

– Romans 14:1

On My Own: Day 1

I just want to cry. I’m holding in tears, because I’m trying to be strong for my mother. I’m not okay and I just want to go home. I’m alone.

I always hear about everyones awesome college experience but I know that I won’t have one. I don’t drink nor do I smoke, it has never been my thing and it’s something that I’m not interested in doing… ever. I live in Daly City, which is 4-6 minutes away from campus, which also means I have to drive to school everyday. Since the school wants to welcome all students they are having Welcome Days, and I’m trying to make friends so i’ve been driving to school to see if I can meet anyone. I hate it. I drove right past the school twice. I hate it so much.

I called an old friend up that happens to be staying at the dorms on campus and I took her and her roommate to the mall, just so I could get the heck out of my apartment, because I found myself getting crazy. I felt so left out the entire time, so I’m most likely not going to do that. To top it all off, my “friend” ended up posting on her snapchat story that she had just gone shopping with her roommate, completely cutting me off… as if I didn’t provide transportation or helped her choose clothes off.

I’ve never been the type of person to try so hard about having friends, because I feel like I do perfectly fine alone, but I’m miles away from home and I need someone to be able to trust and rely on. I need a friend, and I’m so scared. I’m losing my mind.

I haven’t ate and i’m not hungry. I’m locked up in my room with the lights off. Please help me.

College Acceptance Letters

In first grade, I remember we got a blank paper with 100 squares. Our task was to write 1-100 on the paper, which I was the first to complete. After getting so bored of having to wait for the whole class to finish I decided to turn my paper around and continue to 200. For some odd reason I thought that after 100 it went a little like this…” 100, 110, 120, 130..etc”. I remember a kid, Christian R, pointing it out, and having the whole class laugh at me. I sat there holding in my tears, sort of like I am now. 13 years of giving it not just my all but more. I did varsity sports, participated in over 20 clubs, and did 188 hours of community service hours before my senior year. Let’s not forget that I never got anything below a 3.5 gpa. I did this all while trying to hold myself in one piece, because depression was eating my brains out. Over 90% (Source: Click Here) of those who have depression, commit suicide. I did self harm, and always felt the need to end my existence. I stand here today reading a rejection letter from my top choice, UC Berkeley. My SAT/ACT scores weren’t so great, because unfortunately I don’t do so good under pressure. Sitting in a dead silent classroom with the feeling that if you mess this up all of your hard work would’ve been for nothing and it was. I remember getting really claustrophobic in the classrooms that I would take testing, because there was no windows. Panic attacks would begin to come over me and my main focus was no longer the test but trying to get out of the class. No matter how much I understand the concept, testing has just never been a good friend of mine and that just goes back to my anxiety. My social media was always filled with photos of my peers at parties having the time of their life’s, while I was at home studying for a test that I didn’t have until the following Monday. Somehow it’s 2016 and testing still determines whether i’m good at math or English. I was always basing my life off my siblings and I got to fed up with trying to be perfect. She graduated top 10 of her class, is currently attending one of the best universities of California, and she got so many scholarships. My brother is an all-star athlete and will most likely get a full-ride scholarship to his top choice school. Then there’s me, I couldn’t get in to my top choice. I know that deep down I made my parents upset, and I know that I have failed at making them proud. I never brought medals home and I just didn’t compare to my brother. With the little that I have i’m trying to make the best out of it and it isn’t going so well.