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Mental health issues in children essay
Child abusement
Child abusement
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It was a beautiful day out, the sun was shining, music was playing and nothing could possibly go wrong. Then they showed up. Suddenly I’m being held up by both of my shoulders. I didn’t know what was happening. The only thing I could do was kick, scream and cry to the point where they’d have to let me go. But, they didn’t, I wished they did. All I could think about was why? Why are these people taking me away? I was hoping my Grandpa would come to my rescue and stop them. Wishing he wouldn’t have allowed those men to take me. I was terrified. No one was there for me, no one stopped them. Everyone watched, but they didn’t do anything to help. Why weren’t they helping me? My own family just letting it happen. I felt betrayed by the only people …show more content…
What had I done wrong? Who are these two men? Why didn’t anyone help me? Where was I going? I didn’t know. Soon after we arrived at our destination. I met a woman who looked just like my aunt. At that moment I felt comfort. The fact that she looked like someone I knew made me feel secure. Once I came to the realization and condoned the fact that I wasn’t going back home anytime soon, I hoped she’d be the one who’d care for me until it was time for me to go back.We got into her car and drove off. For a moment I was sure it was going to be her whom I’d stay with. I was wrong, she wasn’t going to be the one who’d care for me, she was taking me to the people who were. We arrived at the place and they talked for a while until she had to leave. To distract me they told me if I wanted to go look at their dogs, I wasn’t falling for it. So, I was hesitant at first but I ended up going after all so they’d stop asking. I looked at the dogs for a second, then ran out because I knew she was going to leave me with those people and I didn’t want to stay. It was too late by the time I got to the front door, she was already driving away. Tears filled my eyes once again and I began to cry. I was only two years old. In a home with
I was all alone. I was thinking about what just happened… *RING RING RING* My phone was ringing. “Aunt Rosie, hey…” I was interrupted by my Aunt. “LIsten, I just got a call from the hospital, your mom passed away in the ambulance. I’m so sorry honey. I’m taking your little sister. Your not stable enough to take care of her and you're probably high right now anyway, she doesn’t need that kind of influence in her life… get her things packed I’ll be there in 10 minutes.” *CLICK* She hung up on me. My life was disappearing before my eyes and I was doing nothing about it.
Tears streaming down my face, I kept walking ahead wherever my small, roughed up feet would take me unaware of the consequences of doing so. I felt tears roll off of my cheeks slowly, and then all at once. My shirt was wet and cold because of the salt filled tears, my nose was runny and I used my Winnie the Pooh hanky to wipe the snot away. Within seconds, my nose felt irritated despite the soft, microfiber of the handkerchief and my hands were tired. My vision became really cloudy and I could barely see where I was going. At this point, I had lost all hope and my heart felt heavy, pushing me down with every hurtful step I took. I wanted to sit down and wait for my parents to come to me themselves, so I did. I sat down next to the gate to one of the other rides and waited for what I thought was years of time. I remember getting strange looks from people, as they walked by and I kept wondering why. The ground I was sitting on was unwelcoming, rough, and littered. My pants would definitely need to take a spin in the laundry. Mom wouldn’t be too happy about this, not just the fact that my parents had forgotten me and left me to venture out into the world solitary but also the fact that my clothes were dirty and I had generally made a mess of
To this day I still don’t exactly understand the events that took place on the day that i would last see my grandparents. I was four years old, I didn’t know that then but today i do. As a matter of fact, i did not know much of anything that day. I did not know the time of day, i did not know the man in the cab, nevertheless his reason for showing up at our tiny mountainside mudhouse. I didn’t know that that would be the last time i would be see my grandparents, and I certainly didn’t know that my life was about to take a wild and unexpected turn that to this day i fall victim to.
The man dropped me on the ground and scooped up the money like a bird swooping down for food. I managed to get to my feet groaning in pain, the truck drove away quicker than I could get up. I thought of how my family must’ve been without me, was it a mistake coming to where ever I am? Thinking of this makes me cry, I couldn’t help it.
My rosy pink, baby cheeks lay against the chilling cold window instantly cooling down my burning face. My dark, dull brown eyes stared blankly out into the gloomy blue sky. I saw autumn approaching fast with the multicolored leaves flying wherever the strong blowing wind decided to take them. I started recapping the goodbye’s I had to say to my friends, family and my childhood “boyfriend.” I grew an irritating anger towards my father, for, at the time, I was too young to fully understand; it was not his fault. After seeing my heated glare at him, my father promise me that we would never move again. He assumed that I would make friends in no time.
Everyday was the same at lunch, always the same table, chair, and friends. Sitting there eating with my perfectly packaged and labeled dysfunctional friend group everyday would cause a dent in my social butterfly wings. The mental labels put on different friend groups created a barrier for the ability to connect with new people. My parents had become the main target for my regulatory venting. One night the idea was brought up about transferring to a public school, Parkway South High School. This transition from a private high school with less than 300 students to a school with almost 2000 was a process that changed my life. Transferring schools helped reveal a concept within the reflection of my experience that you don't have to
As a child, have you ever felt a sense of isolation or alienation? At some point in our lives, we may feel as though we don't belong or that we are alone. There has been a time at one point or another where everyone has felt this way. This sense of isolation can lead to constant fear for one's own safety as well as feeling unwanted. As a child, I would soon know the feeling of alienation, and the potential danger that it would bring.
As I cross to take center stage I feel my heart race. I look to my right and see my friends watching, there to support me. The curtain opens and the spot lights up on me. I look straight ahead and nod to let the sound manager know I am ready. My music starts; I open my eyes and see the wonderful crowd of guests here to see the show. For anyone who knows me well it is not a secret that the stage is where I find my center. More to the point, the stage is my home.
It was the late August around 2005. I remembered that there were two people came into the house with luggage. I did not have clear images of them, but I believed that it was something that deepened in my bone that told me they were my parents. I thought I could live happily with them but one day, my father took me to a man’s house. The man offered me candies while talking to my father. Although I was a child, I sensed something terrible and I was right. My father left me with the man’s family. I realized that my father was attempting to sell me. The man closed the door and tried to prevent me from escaping. I screamed and cried out loud. “Father, Mother, Grandma, where are you guys? Don’t leave me alone! I do not know them.” I was desperate. I was amazed by how much power I used to push the man and his
"KATHLEEN!! I NEED YOU TO GET MY BALLOON OFF THE CEILING!" That may sound a little odd, but trust me there is a good reason for my cousins and my sister Clare are shouting at me to get the balloons down. Today is Saturday January 21. My dad and my aunt are having their birthdays at my house today. Aunts, uncles, cousins, parents, a sister and one lonely cat roam the house enjoying the party and having a great time. Previously in the morning I had softball practice from 9-11 AM and then I went bowling with my dad and sister. I had already had a lot of fun that morning, but I was about to have a WHOLE lot more!
Have you ever felt out of place? Different than how you’re supposed to feel? I can’t answer this for you, but I have. Once in middle school, the other in high school, and when I found out what the definition of normal really means to people. I always felt that something was out of place. The way people acted towards one another, and the labels we use to brand ourselves with. We’re stranded and cheated by society today on being taught the way they want to teach us. You might have noticed this yourself, and learned from it. Yes, we’re different from one another, so this is how I learned.
The moment I walked into my house after a long day of school, I realized that something was amiss. I noticed two pairs of work boots that hardly ever see together. It only meant one thing, that both of my parents were home early. A rare occurrence seeing as my dad comes home from work when everyone is asleep and my mom just barely makes it home in time to make dinner. I knew immediately that something must have happened for them to both be home early and at the same time. Thoughts raced through my head as I took off my shoes and backpack, “Am I in trouble or my brothers?” Dread filled my heart and mind as I poked my head around the corner and into the living room. The sight before me made my heart drop. My mom’s eyes were bloodshot and tears were rolling down her face while my dad had a puffy red nose and watery eyes. My mom explained through choked sobs that my grandmother on my dad’s side had just recently passed. I grew numb and blocked out my mom’s sobs. How could the person who took care of me for a good majority of my childhood be dead? I had only spoken to her a few days ago so it couldn’t be possible for her to pass away this quickly. My disbelief whispered selfish suggestions to me, “Question her! Ask her if it’s true!” I ignored my disbelief and went to embrace my anguished parents. I always dreaded the moment where I would have to experience the death of a loved one.
I woke up. My head was hurting so badly and I didn’t know where I was. Dad was lying beside me– hidden beneath an endless pile of rubble. His usually radiant complexion was an off grey- caked in dust and debris. I asked him to help. I told him that I was hurt through floods of tears but he didn’t move. I shook him; begging him to hear me .To comfort me.
Years ago I had the most terrifying, shocking day of my life. I had between seven or eight years when this happened. The day before the accident, all my family was at my grandfather’s house. We all were eating the food my mother and my aunts brought, telling jokes at the dinner table. Meanwhile, I was playing with my cousins in the backyard. Everyone was enjoying the family meeting. As the time passed by and everyone was about to go home, my mother suggested the idea that we all should go at my grandparent’s ranch next day, since everyone was in town we all could have the chance to go. Everyone liked the idea. It was the perfect time to go because it was a weekend. As they all agreed to go, they begun to decide who bring what to the gathering. Who would have thought that thanks to that suggestion, I would lead me to the hospital the day of the reunion.
Once upon a time, I saw the world like I thought everyone should see it, the way I thought the world should be. I saw a place where there were endless trials, where you could try again and again, to do the things that you really meant to do. But it was Jeffy that changed all of that for me. If you break a pencil in half, no matter how much tape you try to put on it, it'll never be the same pencil again. Second chances were always second chances. No matter what you did the next time, the first time would always be there, and you could never erase that. There were so many pencils that I never meant to break, so many things I wish I had never said, wish I had never done. Most of them were small, little things, things that you could try to glue back together, and that would be good enough. Some of them were different though, when you broke the pencil, the lead inside it fell out, and broke too, so that no matter which way you tried to arrange it, they would never fit together and become whole again. Jeff would have thought so too. For he was the one that made me see what the world really was. He made the world into a fairy tale, but only where your happy endings were what you had to make, what you had to become to write the words, happily ever after. But ever since I was three, I remember wishing I knew what the real story was.