This blog discusses self-harm and suicidal ideation. If you or someone you know has thoughts of self-harm or suicide, please contact your physician, go to your local ER, or call/text the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 988. The program provides free, confidential support 24/7.

I’m an international student studying biology at the University of California San Diego, and since my last blog in 2023, a lot has changed. I grew up in India, where being sick was all I ever knew. Coughing — often with blood — was part of my identity, and by age 10, I was misdiagnosed with tuberculosis, then later with allergic bronchopulmonary aspergillosis (ABPA) and bronchiectasis. Still, no one could exactly explain what was happening to me. I coughed up two to four cups of thick mucus daily. I was too weak and had no energy to even carry out basic daily tasks. Most of my time was spent in bed. There was no plan, no treatment that worked, and no hope — just endless hospital visits and vague answers.

In 2019, I hit the lowest point in my life, which haunts me to this day. I was preparing for the brutal Indian medical entrance exam while managing my declining health. I had no energy, no confidence, and no hope. I genuinely thought, “Maybe I won’t make it.”

Then came COVID-19 in 2020. And surprisingly, it was a break I didn’t know I needed. But emotionally, I was unraveling. I had panic attacks. I used to shake during sleep and had night terrors. I’d wake up screaming or in tears. I was extremely self-destructive. I went through some intense treatments like repetitive transcranial magnetic stimulation (rTMS) and electroconvulsive therapy (ECT) to stabilize my mental health. A side effect of these treatments is that I do not remember a lot of events around that time. It was during a long hospital stay that I made the decision that changed my life: I had to start over. I had to leave.

In August 2021, I landed in San Diego still with an active lung infection. During my long hospital stay at UC San Diego Health, where I was put on multiple IV antibiotics and breathing treatments, a pulmonologist suggested I get tested for cystic fibrosis.

When the test came back positive, something shifted. After years of hopelessness and confusion, I finally had a name for what was happening to me. It was genetic. It wasn’t my fault.

In early 2022, I started taking Kalydeco (ivacaftor). The first few months were slow, but then the mucus began to clear. The coughing almost completely went away. For the first time, I felt free. Alive. Normal. I had the energy to live, not just survive.

I still get vivid flashbacks with haunting images from years of pain and fear. Healing doesn’t erase the past. It’s not a straight line. But what’s different now is that I don’t let those flashbacks define me anymore. I see them. I feel them. And I choose to keep moving forward anyway. Sometimes I get very scared, but I choose to carry on feeling scared.

Last year, 2024, became the year I started truly living.

I jumped from a plane — literally. I went skydiving at 13,000 feet with my best friend. It was spontaneous. We just woke up one day and did it. Within less than a month, I completed the most prolonged and strenuous hike I had ever done. In May 2025, I ran my first 5K. And in June 2025, I took a two-week solo trip to Boston with no itinerary and no friends in town — just me and the adventure ahead. These aren’t just achievements — they are symbols. Symbols of a life I thought I would never get to live.

Through all of this, I’ve learned something very powerful:

Life is short. But it’s not over until it’s over. There were so many times I believed I wouldn’t make it past the next year. That my body was broken. I was too tired to try anymore. But here I am — alive, following my passions, building connections, sharing my story, and most importantly, breathing.

My most transformative moment came in January 2025.

That was the last time I truly tried to give up. I had multiple stitches in my arm from what I had done to myself. I remember sitting in that hospital bed, watching my parents and my friends on the phone, crying. I saw fear in their eyes. They thought they were about to lose me. And something inside me shifted that day. I had given up before, more than once. But every time, I returned to my life without changing anything. Maybe that’s why I kept ending up back in that same place, full of despair.

This time was different.

This time, I turned my life around. I made a choice. For the first time, I focused on finding the solution, rather than the problems I had. I still cry. I still break down. I still have moments where I feel like I’m falling apart. But now, I always get back up — because this is life.

A lot of people think that if they’re not constantly chasing money, success, or some big ambition, then they’re wasting their lives. And I’ll be honest — I’m not very different. I have big dreams. I chase goals. I have ambitions for my career, and yes, I want to be very wealthy too. But every time I thought it was the end, I never once thought about what I accomplished, or what I did or did not achieve in life. I thought about the friends and family I spent time with, the memorable moments I shared with random strangers, the beautiful places I had been to, and the gorgeous scenery I got to witness. In that moment, I just wished I had not given up. That life is, in fact, beautiful if I choose to see it that way.

And sometimes, it’s the smallest things — a good laugh, a deep breath, a moment of calm — that reminds me what I was fighting so hard to stay alive for.

In the most optimistic way, life is too short not to be living it fully. Embrace everything — the good, the hard, the quiet, the small. Appreciate the little things because they’re not little at all. Don’t wait around, don’t miss out. Love hard and live. Life, in all its chaos and calm, is beautiful.

As I heal, I realize that I want to change the world, but not in a grand sense when people talk about “changing the world.” But I want to change the world of people I meet, the ones who cross paths with me even for a moment. I want to make people feel seen, safe, and inspired just by being who I am and how I choose to live. That’s my purpose: to be a mirror, a spark, a reminder that love, passion, and truth still exist.

If you’re struggling right now — physically, emotionally, mentally — remember that it will not last forever. And sometimes, it takes crossing oceans and decades of questions to finally get an answer. But the moment you do, the moment you reclaim your life, is worth everything.

Keep going. Keep asking questions. And when you’re ready, take that one small step forward. Your future is waiting, and it might just surprise you. Life is indeed full of surprises. At least mine has been.

Interested in sharing your story? The CF Community Blog wants to hear from you.