HELP KEEP LUNA IN SCHOOL!

We are Sara and Marina and our niece, Luna, is an extraordinary young woman. She has been on a difficult journey through mental and physical health challenges, and through incredible persistence, fortitude and determination, she is stepping into her amazing potential. She was accepted into NYU as a music major, where she has been thriving academically and socially, and where she has found a supportive OCD group. NYU has offered her an incredible learning environment with truly excellent support services. Unfortunately, there have been financial setbacks and changes to the loans that she had been counting on, putting Luna’s ability to stay in school this year in jeopardy.

OCD is a disability that is best supported with consistency and stability. Help us keep Luna in school, where she can continue the incredible trajectory of healing and growth that she has started on.

Every donation, big or small, is gratefully received!

With Love & Gratitude,

Aunties

Luna has written a beautiful and honest account of her journey. Please read and share.

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Luna's GoFundMe Statement:

I first began experiencing mental health symptoms about 10 years ago when I was 14 years old. I had just started my first year of high school at a new school, where I was adjusting to new social and academic pressures. I experienced severe anxiety and panic attacks when I was around other people or had to speak in large groups. I was later diagnosed with generalized and social anxiety, and although I was extremely resistant to treatment, I began talk therapy and medication. I remember feeling small improvements in my symptoms, and I was encouraged by the relief that the medication seemed to be giving me.

This all changed in the winter of that year, when I had a severe accident and fractured the tibia and fibula in my right leg. My bones were reset in the hospital, and my entire right leg was placed in a cast up to my thigh. Because of this, I had to use a wheelchair at home and school. As you can probably imagine, navigating an urban campus in Seattle in a wheelchair was not an easy task. I often had my Mom, teachers, and other students assisting me in getting to and from my classes. Losing my sense of autonomy and having to rely on others was extremely difficult.

Being in a wheelchair also led to large amounts of shame and embarrassment, as we live in a world that is not accessible or accommodating to non-able-bodied people. Going out to dinner, seeing the new Star Wars movie, all required an extra step that those of us who are able-bodied rarely have to consider. After a long treatment process that included leg surgery and lots of physical therapy, I was on the road to recovery, at least physically. The injury left me completely exhausted, depleted, and isolated. This is when, going into my sophomore year of high school, feelings of worthlessness, hopelessness, and dread began to creep in. I went through the motions, but was mentally and socially detached from the world around me. I felt like I was on another planet, like I was living in a different reality, one that only I could be immersed in. By my junior year, although I shockingly received a 4-point grade average, I was absent for over 50 percent of the year. I was stuck in a debilitating depressive cycle. I don’t remember much from that time, as it was one of the most painful experiences I have had in my life. I recall feeling like I couldn’t move. I was physically stuck, and it took every ounce of energy to simply get up.

Somehow, the depression slightly lifted, and I was able to complete my junior year. That summer, I decided to work my first full-time job. On my days off, I found myself spending countless hours arranging and rearranging things around my house, engaging in extensive cleaning routines, and obsessing over the smallest of details. Nothing could be out of place, and everything had to feel “just right.” Everything had to be perfect. What I didn’t know at the time was that what I was experiencing were symptoms of Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, OCD. There is a public misconception that OCD is just about order, tidiness, and cleanliness, and while some obsessions and compulsions can involve these things, unwanted thoughts and behaviors can include a multitude of different themes. The International OCD Foundation (IOCDF) defines OCD as:

“a serious and often debilitating mental health disorder that affects people of all ages and walks of life, and occurs when a person gets caught in a cycle of obsessions and compulsions.

Obsessions are unwanted, intrusive thoughts, images, or urges that trigger intensely distressing feelings. Compulsions are behaviors an individual engages in to get rid of the obsessions and/or decrease distress.”

Before I began treatment for my OCD, I had the same misconceptions about the disorder. It wasn’t until I entered treatment that I learned about OCD and truly understood what it meant to have the condition. I was admitted to an Intensive Outpatient Program for OCD at Seattle Children’s Hospital in the spring of my senior year, and completed the program after about 4 months of treatment. I had the incredible opportunity to meet other kids with OCD, whose immense bravery to tackle their greatest fears every single day was one of the most memorable moments of my life. The program was hugely successful for me. I came in with “extremely severe” symptoms and left with mild OCD. It felt like a huge accomplishment that would have an impact on me for the rest of my life. And I was certainly lucky to receive both a diagnosis and effective treatment, as for some, it can take up to 17 years from the onset of symptoms to receive appropriate treatment. This is largely due to the misunderstanding the public has of OCD, and the lack of OCD specialized therapists and treatment available.

After graduating from both the IOP program and high school, I was looking forward to what was next, but felt an inescapable sense of despair lingering in my body. My depression crept back in, and I experienced two subsequent depressive episodes after leaving high school. As many of us were, I was hit hard by the COVID-19 pandemic, which caused my depressive symptoms to worsen, and due to a lack of resources and available treatment, I was not engaged in consistent therapy. I became very resistant to treatment and felt exceedingly hopeless that I would ever be free from depression. During the midst of the pandemic, I lost my cousin Hanna, who was just 24 years old when she passed. Hanna and I always had a deep and indescribable connection. We both struggled with our mental health and had experienced a lot of pain. She made me feel seen, understood, and that I was enough just as I was. I think of her every day and miss her beyond comprehension.

A few weeks after her passing, I began classes at Seattle University, after taking two years away from school. Going to school felt like I was trying to cover up my untreated depression with a Band-Aid, hoping that by not facing my symptoms head-on, I would heal. Of course, this is not how major depression works. It comes and goes in waves, and as much as you try to resist it, it persists until it comes crashing in and pulls you under. In the spring of 2023, I was trapped in its riptides again. I dropped out of Seattle University and felt the depression take over. I found myself at a crossroads with a choice to make. I could either continue to suffer in immense pain or I could do what I had never allowed myself to do before: try. That’s all I had to do was just try.

And with that small choice and the daily unconditional love and support of my Mom, something in me shifted. It all started with one step, one daily walk around the block, which turned into 30-minute to hour-long walks. One Apple Fitness workout turned into daily exercise and a commitment to physical wellbeing. One home-cooked meal turned into a passion for cooking and fueling my body. I returned to therapy, and for the first time, I actually wanted to be there. I read books on depression, completed workbooks, and created my own journals. I began meditation, practicing mindfulness, and self-compassion. After a few months, I could already see the change in both my physical body and mind. I decided that I was ready to be a part of the world again. I went to weekly dance classes, acting class, and worked as an assistant director on a film project. As I engaged in life again, I could feel the depression slowly and steadily lift, and a passion for life replaced its home in my body. Along with the individual work I engaged in, being a part of a community was essential to my recovery. I found and joined a weekly OCD support group in Seattle and immersed myself in being with peers who were also on their own journey.

After about a year and a half of my recovery, in the fall of 2024, I decided that I wanted to return to school, not as a Band-Aid this time, but as a way to explore all the passions I had rediscovered on my journey. I applied to NYU to major in music, and to my complete shock and amazement, I got in. I began my first semester in January, and the last few months have been utterly and completely life-changing. I have seen and done things that I never thought would be possible for me to experience. While the adjustment was difficult, I have the knowledge, skills, and passion to push through the challenges that I face. It has been a dream come true to move to New York and study at NYU. Even now, I am still in disbelief that I made it here. All it took was a choice. And I know I made the right one.

This summer, I learned that the financial aid I had in place for the 2025-2026 school year was no longer available. My aunts, Nina and Sara, suggested creating a GoFundMe page in order to share my story and to help raise the funds in order to keep me in school. As an older undergraduate student who had to leave school due to my mental health struggles, my options for funding are limited. Millions of people suffer from both depression and OCD, and I hope that my story can reach those who understand the impact of these conditions and who want to offer support to students like me receive a meaningful education. I know that when I have the opportunity to do the same, I will give back to others like me.