While I had an early interest in psychology, mental health was not a concept to me until I experienced my first hypomanic episode during my fourth year of college. Upon bringing myself to the counseling center on campus, I was introduced to therapy and medications, which was not without its challenges. After I graduated, I fell into a major depression with my future very unclear, while I saw friends and peers start their medical or other professional school programs. Although I was able to move back home, finding a quality treatment team was yet another difficulty I faced on top of figuring out my career path and establishing independence as a young adult.

 

As I learned how to live with bipolar disorder, I also came to admit that being pre-med or even pre-health did not ever fully resonate with me. With added encouragement from a professor who mentored me towards the end of college, I turned my attention to doctorate programs in psychology and explored mental health care as a career option by working as an assistant at outpatient treatment centers in Los Angeles.

 

In this time, I met people from all walks of life, some of whom I still think about to this day. Bearing witness to their wellness journeys was incredibly humbling, and I was reminded of the ways in which I felt seen by my own therapists. I will never forget how each of them helped me not only stay afloat amid the turbulence of young adulthood and bipolar disorder but ultimately, reclaim my life back.

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During those four years, I  understood the costs of loneliness, isolation, and invalidation all too painfully well. Yet I was shown the power of feeling heard, not just listened to. I learned what a privilege it is to be allowed into another's moments of vulnerability. I realized how meaningful connection can make lasting changes in one's life. As I reflected on my path forward, I determined that I would provide that and more for others.