I Am a Survivor.

When I was 17, my older brother Freddy passed away from cancer at the age of 30. This was one of the last photos he and I took together. The day our little sister was born, and about a year before he passed.

I graduated high school and moved on to college where I got lost in depression, drank alcohol at least 3 nights a week, and shoved french fries into my face during my lunch breaks. Unsurprisingly, the number on the scale went up to 165 lbs by age 20 (freshmen 15 was more of a freshmen 40)

I was interested in acting, but did not believe in myself enough to think it would be a career. Being hungover on weekends was a common occurrence. I was satisfied with working in retail for the…