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Childhood trauma persuasive essay
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Essay on childhood trauma
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It was one of those days that I just knew would be horrible. Not that anyone had suggested to me something bad would happen; it was just something about the cloudy, dreery weather that sent chills running up and down my spine telling me nothing good was going to come from this day. I was only eight when it all happened, but I can still remember every little detail as if it had just happened yesterday. While I was growing up, I knew the way we lived was a lot differet than most people. When I got to stay over at a friend's house, I finally got the chance to relax and be happy. In my house people were constantly fighting and shouting at each other. That Saturday started off like any normal morning. I woke up, wearing my favorite pink bathrobe that my grandpa bought me for my birthday just a few days earilier. I sprinted to the pantry and snatched the Reese's Puffs like they would not have been there if I had waited another second to get them. I was starving, it felt like my whole house was enveloped with the smell of peanut butter and chocolate. At least that was all I could pay attention to. After pouring my cereal into a bowl, I followed my usual morning ritual of sitting on the big, brown couch in the living room and watching all the shows on TLC having anything to do with babies. A couple of hours later my sister woke up, looking like she had just come from a wind tunnel. Her hair was all over the place and sadly, her makeup was not in any better condition. As usual, we fought. “Veronica, you always wake up way too early and watch TV at the same volume as an old, nearly deaf grandpa would! And you always wake me up!” my sister yelled. “That's not even possible, Naomi! You sleep downstiars. There's no way ... ... middle of paper ... ... lap like I was still the size of a newborn baby, rocking me back and forth, while I was wrapped up in my favorite blanket. As soon soon as she told me she was leaving the tears came flooding out. I did not want her to leave me, I was afraid she would never come back. “Mom please don't leave me, I need you with me. What will happen the next time I'm sick? You won't even be here to make me feel better!” My mom did not say anything and she just gave me a kiss on the forehead, stood up and set me gently on the floor. We went downstairs together and she sat both my sister and told us, “I love you both very much and I will call you both everyday and come visit as much as I can.” Neither my sister nor I said anything because we couldn't stop crying long enough to talk. My mom went up stairs and packed a bag. She said goodbye one more time and walked out the door.
I thought her stay would last a day or two but days turned into weeks and weeks turned into a month. It wasn't until we had a family session at a hospital that I found out that she was in the living at the hospital. The meeting was all in Karen so I didn’t understand much of what people were saying. That summer of 3rd grade, I only saw my sister for a month and I had no idea what happened to her.
I woke up Tuesday morning excited for the day I was going to spend with my mom. I was sitting at the kitchen table drinking fresh coffee listening to my mom and aunt tease and joke around about how paranoid my mom was about doing well in her classes, my aunt was telling her that maybe now that I was there, she would relax a little bit and have some fun. Our plan was to go to one of mom's classes with her, and then on a tour of UNC and then we were going to go to dinner and a movie.
In August 2005, at the tender age of 7, I received the most devastating news. I was told by my family that a hurricane was coming to my city, New Orleans, Louisiana. Because of this storm, Hurricane Katrina, I was told that I would most likely have to move away for a long time, meaning the rest of my life. My family and I lost everything, and the hurricane ended up destroying the entire city completely. This was heartbreaking to me for a plethora of reasons, including that I lost loved ones and was separated from the rest of my family at such an early age. This ravaging storm marked the most drastic change of my life.
It was a Sunday just like any other. Little did I know that this would be the worst day of my life. It was my dad’s week to have my sister (10) and I (14). It was 10:00 a.m. and we were all getting ready for my little sister Brittany’s soccer game. Brittany and I where down stairs eating our cereal while my dad was up stairs taking a shower. He had been up there for about a hour and we where going to be late to Britt’s game, so I went up stairs to see what was taking so long. I knocked on the bathroom door and there was no answer. So I knocked a little bit louder, still no answer. At that point I new that there must be something wrong.
When the end of my 5th grade year had hit; A land mark of the most traumatizing event of my life was about to take place. My mom had left my father and took us along with her. Over the summer and a few addit...
The house they live in, for example, has Italian charm on the outside, but Lilia wants to make it more English on the inside. Lilia is also at a disadvantage, because she is not in her home country, and the expectations are very different. English culture is based on tradition and image, while Italian culture is based on celebration and animation. Italians are emotional and alive, they take the bad with the good and make the best of it. Lilia's beauty is part of why Gino married her, but her beauty can't save her when she becomes ill and dies so young, a theme that reoccurs in the novel.
It was the week of my daughter’s birthday, when the winds of hurricane Wilma landed close to the area where we lived. My husband was in California, and I was alone
Sure enough, it was indeed the worse day of my life (12/2/2006) and my life was never the same. Everything happened so fast. It was 6 months ago that we were just moving back to DC from Augusta, GA, and a year before that we moved from Florence South Carolina, where we resided for 6 years of our lives. We moved to Florence because my mom said she wanted better for me. Nothing was further from the truth. South Carolina was not the best option, However, I learned my mom needed an escape and to start over fresh, beginning with herself. Moving to South Carolina was more than an adjustment for me. I was bullied for having an accent, being chubby, and light skin. The country people had a drawl to their voice that I didn’t understand. We were homeless initially, but my step-grandfathers sister accepted us and introduced her to this “boyfriend” that was in jail in Effingham, South Carolina. My grandfather, sister and I are still very close. Being blood relatives couldn’t make us any closer. My mom was extremely smart although we were living in someone else's home. It wasn’t for long. My mom found a great job, bought a truck, and we moved into a two-bedroom house on Bradford Street. Everything was going great,
Just got home from another week of listening to my grandparents curse each other, smelling smoke every time I walked in the house and having the smell of smoke every time I left, while listening to my sister complain about my Dad every five minutes. This was life for me every other week at my Dad’s. I never knew though that that night of my Mom’s week was going to be the worst night of my life.
My father's eyes opened, and he called out for my sister Kelly and I to come to him. In a very serious and sad voice, he told us that he was very sick, and he was going to the Fort Wayne hospital. My mother told Kelly and I to help her pack some things for him, because he was going to be leaving soon. We helped her pack, keeping quiet because we did not want to interrupt the silence that had taken over the room.
This was about three months ago, and it seemed like a normal saturday morning. I was sitting with my mom in our den at house. We were just chatting as we usually would every other morning. It was just us at home.
The worst day of my life happened to me when I was twelve. In order to understand that day, you must know what happened in order to get there. This included a spiral of events that led to the day that changed my life forever.
February twenty-third 2010 was just a regular ordinary day. I was on my way to class on this cold February afternoon, when my phone rung. It was my cousin on the other end telling me to call my mom. I could not figure out what was wrong, so I quickly said okay and I hung up and called my mom. When my mom answered the phone I told her the message but I said I do not know what is wrong. My mom was at work and could not call right away, so I took the effort to call my cousin back to see what was going on. She told me that our uncle was in the hospital and that it did not look good. Starting to tear up I pull over in a fast food restaurant parking lot to listen to more to what my cousin had to say. She then tells me to tell my mom to get to the hospital as quickly as possible as if it may be the last time to see her older brother. My mom finally calls me back and when I tell her the news, she quickly leaves work. That after-noon I lost my Uncle.
The first few days were splendid. I just laid in bed with the TV on every so often. I didn’t even need to worry about my sister. She was over at her friend’s house for the weekend. With no worries about my sister bothering me about playing with her, or me getting in trouble because of her bright ideas, I had the best two-day weekend ever.
We were all a bit tired after we got back to the clearing at the beginning of the path, that lead to the river, my house was the closest so we all went there to clear up any evidence of us being near the river because we all knew too well it was forbidden. Everything was cleaned up and everyone had gone to their houses to put back the supplies and then we all met up at Hannah's house for a cup of hot cocoa and ramen noodles. Later that night my mom entered the living room and I felt a hot flash of guilt wipe across my face then she asked me how my day was and I started to feel like a mouse about to fall into a trap while trying to find the right words. I sat there for a few seconds in slight discomfort until my sister of all people came and distracted my mom enough to allow me to just stroll out of the living room and say, “Nothing out of the Ordinary”.