I grew up with a dad who had depression--at the time was what we thought it was--and later was diagnosed as bipolar. And just like watching my dad and how he handled bipolar, and how he just used the Church so much and relied on the Church so much, that, you know, before even recognizing what I had, I think I was already being prepared to know how to deal with it just because I saw his dependence on the Savior. And then finding out I had a mental illness, I think I had kind of already known by that point. When my mom wanted me to go in to the doctor, that was probably more when I hated the idea of being labeled something and thinking that I would have to, like, tell people that there was this mental illness I had, and worried how people would look at me differently. And I guess I kind of worried that I wouldn't be able to be myself the way I thought I'd been. And I just couldn't respond positively the way it would be more natural to, is when I finally went in, and by that time, I think I was ready to accept that I would have a label. And it was almost a relief because at that point I started to take medication, and I began to recognize, like, there were ways I could help myself and I didn't have to be a victim. That was probably what's most encouraging. I think the hardest thing for me was the depression. Situations would arise that I should've just been able to handle more easily. Like, I'd have a bad day, and rather than just being able to move on and accepting, it just, like, was the bottom of the world fell out. And I wasn't able to just handle it and then move on. I remember I would think about how it would be a relief to have some sort of accident where it wasn't caused by me. I didn't want to ever reach that level, but you know, just wishing that at one point it would somehow end and just be done. And I remember I was--this one day--I don't even remember what had happened. Probably nothing, you know, worth that kind of pain. But I just was in the shower, and I just curled up in a ball. And just, like, I couldn't even cry, because your emotions are so overwhelming and so strong, and you can't explain it. And so I just had curled up, and I wasn't even able to, like, release emotions, which crying can sometimes really help. And it was just, like, such a dark place to be in. I kept trying, and I wasn't able to, like, find a way to release that kind of sadness. So it lasted quite a while, and I don't think I ever really figured out how to cope until I came home and just spent time with family, and to kind of find myself again and not have so many outside pressures. I had lots of friends on missions, and I just felt like they had, you know, so many hard things they were going through. I didn't want to write them and be this cloud of darkness, and so I think I kind of faked a lot of happiness just because I didn't want to burden them. And I think that's probably the thing that was hardest for me was, I didn't want to feel like a burden to people by having to open up to them. And you can kind of just--there are so many emotions, I think it can be overwhelming for someone listening to just hear so much pain from somebody. And so I just tried to completely fake it and just stay positive. I don't think I've ever been angry at God about having bipolar, but I definitely have kind of questioned why it came to me. And I don't know what kind of conversations we had in heaven or what experiences we had there, but actually Elder Holland's talk mentions that we had a choice when we came to earth, and that we chose--we kind of knew that there would be these trials. And I don't know if I specifically knew that this is what I would struggle with, but when I read that in the talk, that was kind of something that was really encouraging to remember, that I chose to come here and I knew there would be problems. And I like to think I probably had a conversation with Heavenly Father and He just said, you know, "Do you think you can handle this? Are you prepared?" And I think I accepted being able to come here and struggle with something like this. And so that's kind of empowering to know that--right now it feels kind of like you're helpless and you can't fix it, but to know that in the premortal life, like, I was whole and I will be whole. And it's just comforting to know that the Atonement can heal us and can prepare us for that day when we're finally able to be free of all of our burdens. And everyone has kind of struggles that the Atonement will be able to make them stronger and help us deal with them, I guess, and just remembering that the Resurrection is when we can finally just almost rediscover ourselves and remember who we are as spirit daughters and sons.

Recently I was able to really come to terms more with what I struggle with, because I think I was just reading my scriptures. And it wasn't anything in particular, but I just had this thought that, you know, Jesus Christ understands exactly what I'm going through. And I'm a perfectionist, and so sometimes it's really hard to feel like I can't be happy. And, you know, so much of the gospel is supposed to make us happy, and so it felt like maybe I was doing something wrong. But as I was reading my scriptures, I just got this feeling that because Jesus Christ, through the Atonement, understood what I was going through, He wasn't going to judge me for not being able to think clearly or be happy--was, like, the biggest realization I've had and has helped a lot. I definitely have felt broken, and I think I'm coming to recognize that I don't need to feel that way. I remember, after my freshman year, telling my mom that I just was broken and there was something wrong, and how would I be able to relate to people again and be able to be, like, a force for good and help others when I couldn't help myself, even? Just feeling especially like you just can't control it, and it's chemicals, and so that kind of makes you feel broken. I think my family's been an incredible support system, my mom especially, knowing how to handle mental illness through the rest of my family--just knows to, like, be patient, and she tries so hard to be understanding. And she does her best to just not judge me for hard times, and she just wants to help so badly. And so that's a big support. And then the rest of my family, like, doesn't treat me differently at all. Like, we can just still joke and laugh. And there's never been a time--like, I think it's really easy, as kids or even adults, sadly, to, like, make fun of someone's weakness or use that as a weapon. And my family has never gotten close to doing that for me, so it just feels comfortable and safe. And I think I feel the most myself when I'm with my family. I forget that, you know, there's a mental illness label on me. I think when you're feeling completely lost and broken, and you don't have the kind of support that you deserve or need, honestly, the best place to turn is to Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father. And I think it's important to seek help. Like, we're here to help one another on this earth, but when it comes down to it--and like when I felt completely alone, and even when my family was reaching out and it just wasn't working--the biggest comfort I found was with the Savior. And I remember I watched this one Mormon Message. It's called "The Will of God." And I think I watched it every single day for a couple months just because that came to me, when I was watching it, was the biggest thing that reminded me of who I was, and that trials happen to us for a reason and to just keep that perspective, and remember that we're going to be OK in the end, and what we're learning will benefit others and ourselves. And when you can just turn to the Savior and rely on Him, I think He helps you find your identity again and helps you remember who you are. And you know, maybe He can't completely take away the burden, but He helps you carry it. I love my Savior. I think the hardest times in my life have been--you know, sometimes you can push the Savior away, I think, which is so sad. And when I've been able to embrace the Savior and remember Him and try and focus on Him, that's when I felt the happiest, which is something that's really cool when you have, you know, depression or mental illness. And just recognizing that He didn't carry my burden alone, and He knows what everybody felt like. It's just overwhelming to think of the pain He must have suffered, and He must really love us to have gone through that. And so the Savior is like everything to me, and He's the Brother and a father and a friend. And I know He lives, and I know He knows exactly what I've gone through. And He's experienced it Himself, and because of that, He knows exactly how to help me. And I know He suffered through so much and endured so much because He wanted to help His, you know, brothers and sisters. And His love is just so overwhelming that it can really heal us and make us feel whole when we feel really broken. And His influence in our lives is there even if we don't recognize it or don't even want to accept it, and because of that, we're able to find strength and hope and courage. And I just know He loves us so much, and He did suffer and die for us. And also, because of the Resurrection, we can be whole again and we can be with our families and we can find that joy. Even for everyone who struggles, through the Resurrection and Atonement, they can experience more joy than, you know, even they've been able to experience.