I knew I always loved service animals, but I never thought I would benefit from one. I never would have classified myself as having a disability. Honestly, I prided myself on being ”tough” and independent. Mental health was not a focal point for me growing up. Like most I knew the terms “anxiety” “depression” “PTSD” but I overlooked them as being sensitive and attention seeking. This was due to me not fully understanding what it meant to struggle with these conditions. You may have heard the phrase “You won’t know until you’ve been through it” and I never knew how true that would turn out to be. It felt like my life had been stripped out from under me. Everything I wanted to achieve felt like an impossible dream. It became a battle to get up in the morning, go to school, play my sports, find any motivation to live. I started talking to a therapist and managed to fool people, friends and family alike, into believing that I was getting better, that nothing was wrong, that I was healed. What they didn’t know is my condition had plateaued and was, if anything, declining. I had began using self harm as my motivation to live. It became an addiction, one I’m still fighting. I was so afraid that if I told somebody I would loose their respect, ruin our relationship, and be less worthy of their love. It still scares me to be vulnerable about my mental health. I fear that I will be judged as a burden, overly dramatic, too sensitive or that I’m lying for attention or sympathy. But I’m also learning that I can’t get the help and support I need if I’m constantly faking being okay. I’m learning how to advocate for myself and give myself the same compassion I offer to the people closest to me. 

Coming to college has been a big transition. I was in a weird limbo of trying to have self compassion but only finding self loathing. I went to class and work but it was a constant battle. I began withdrawing from people. Sure I would socialize at work, working in customer service I had to, but I didn’t make friends in class and I don’t feel like socializing outside of work. I became disconnected. Dreams and plans I had for coming to college came to a screeching halt. I lost interest in making friends, maintaining relationships, going out, caring for myself. Going to the gym became too tiring and was no longer rewarding. I began to feel hopeless. I was no longer living, I was merely surviving. I stoped eating regularly and seeing how long I could go without food became a game that motivated me to go one more day. My self harm ramped up again and got a bit out of hand. My “motivators” were becoming more and more dangerous to where I knew I had to seek out help at the college’s counseling center. Working with my therapist throughout this past semester was hard and every step forward had three steps backwards. I still shielded myself from letting other people see this part of my life and to some extent still do. My therapist worked with me to finally begin opening up to my parents about what I’ve been going through. It was hands down the hardest thing I’ve ever done and yet at the same time probably will be the best thing I could have done. 

I knew I always loved service animals. Due to this interest I had begun researching and learning everything I could about them while in high school. I wanted to pursue training service dogs as a career. I poured myself into the laws, rules, and regulations surrounding them; who was eligible for one; what they could be trained to do; where they could go; what rights they had and so much more. This was all for my interest in training them as a career, so when I saw that there was a category of service animal for psychiatric purposes I began researching it. I had learned what service dogs could do for physical disabilities including: guide work for the blind, cardiac alert, protection work, and working dogs for the military or police force. Having a service dog for a mental disability was newer territory. I learned how a service dog could be trained to interrupt and prevent self harm, alert to oncoming panic attacks and act to decrease their severity by preforming various tasks, reducing the duration of the event. After conducting a lot of research into the ADA and talking with a handful a different people about it, including my therapist, others involved in my mental health journey, and a few service dog trainers, I found that I qualify. 

I began researching service dogs as it would relate to me. Learning about training, breeding, expenses, care and more. I began advocating for a service animal. I know they are a lot of effort and I have a long road ahead of me full of different challenges and barriers to overcome. I am prepared to put in the work. But I need your help.

Thank you for reading this far! Any help would be appreciate! I also have an instagram account called dogs_n_service which will follow my journey with the service dog while here at college in Missouri. Support through donating funds, supporting my new account, and even helping to spread the word by sharing my story to others would all benefit me! Thank you in advance for all of your support and help!!