The summer before sophomore year was a very difficult time in my life. It was the first time that I experienced loss and how deeply it affects people. It was the first time that I realized that friends were not always there for you and that sometimes it is best to not have any friends, then friends that treat you poorly. The start of my troubles was the last day of school before summer vacation, my friends had not been talking to me, or listening to my concerns of being ignored. So I decided that I did not need friends, that I would rather be friendless than with people that did not treat me as a friend but rather an annoyance. At first this felt good I had finally rid myself of the people making me unhappy, but as the summer wore on I only felt isolated. I spent most of the summer riding my bike to the store, or the library just to get out of the house. I was determined to make the most of all of the alone time, and that worked for a bit. I kept myself so occupied with exploring my neighborhood and the surrounding areas. I learned everything there was to know about the history of the town. I knew that the bookstore was used as a hospital in the Civil War and was said to be haunted by a mean ghost. I knew that the art gallery was once the house of a women who hung herself …show more content…
So less than 24 hours after Popi’s death my mom and I, drove the five hours to Indiana to help collect his things and plan what we would do for the funeral. We had made the drive to Indiana over 200 times in the last five years, but this time it felt different. At the time I wasn’t quite sure why. I now know it's because the other 199 times we had made the drive we were always driving to something happy, a birthday, a wedding, to see family, but this times when we got to where we were going I would know undoubtedly that Popi was
8th grade, 8th grade from the opening day to the signing of the yearbooks. This is the year of memories, goodbyes, and regrets. 8th grade and I’m still realizing that there are people in the world that would die to go to a school like this. A school where every body knows everyone’s name, respects everyone, and where violence and fighting are about as common as the Yankees missing the playoffs. When I’m done with my homework and go to bed, as the days of 8th grade wind down, summer will come and go, and I will find myself in one of those giant, scary places called high school.
He we go. Just me and myself now. I can write whatever I want and Mrs. Wesbecher can’t read it. To this point I have wrote about a lot of fun things I have done throughout high school, but that was just the PG version. Sophomore year is when things really began to heat up. One day over at Alex’s we found the key to his parents liquor cabinet. We did exactly what 15 year old guys would do, took some sips and wow did we think we were badasses. Looking back opening the cabinet taking a few sips and locking it back up really quick was quite comical. One night during Sophomore year it was Alex, Cal, and I, Alex drank a lot and we started to walk around town (no license yet). We walked around town for a long time with Alex’s sloppy ass. After a while
It was August 11 a week before I started the last year of middle school. The slight buzzing noise came from my phone caught my attention. The text I saw changed my family forever. The text, the calls, and the tears made me realize my grandma was really gone. It was a normal friday with my mom, laughter, jokes, and joy.
At this point Joy and Sadness had reached their lowest point in the pit of forgotten memories, and now with the help of a friend they are out of that dark place. The two emotions are on their way back up to headquarter; back to their normal life. That is where I was junior year. The problems in my life were being resolved and I had reconnected with my friends. Junior year was going great! All of my classes were going well and I had even raised my overall grade point average. I believe this is the point in my life where I just really opened up. I became a ton my social and expressive. The biggest thing I overcame that year was learning to stand up for myself and not take as much crap from others. I had always allowed myself to be pushed around by my peers and I would do anything to just make people like me. Now, I don’t really care a whole lot if people like me; I’m going to express my opinion on a topic whatever it may be. Also I tried to separate myself from the people in my life who made me feel miserable and lowered my self esteem. I grew so much mentally, and it really has helped me with knowing who my real friends are and where I
Everything was different that first year. A new school, a new style of classrooms and classes, and more kids who seemed to be much older than me. It was the beginning of the process of who I would be in high school. This meant clubs, sports, activities, and the start of hobbies. While, the outcome of my choices in those areas were unknown to me at the time, I reflect and think I made the right decisions.
Everyone has people in their lives that will stay with them forever. There are also people who will only be in your life for a short amount of time. Even though you can’t choose your family, you can choose your friends. Every day you have a choice to either keep friends around, or to cut them out of your life forever. This is the exact choice I had to make with not only one friend, but five of my friends.
I began waking up in the middle of the night frantically rushing around my house thinking that I was late for school and trying to find time to finish my homework that was still incomplete before class started. I was a mess, I was no longer studying, and my grades were starting to show it. My life became all about work and I was constantly exhausted. I knew I had taken on too much, but because the school year was almost over I wanted to ride it out. In June, my Junior year had finally come to a close and I could not have been more grateful for summer
Four years ago I could have never pictured myself applying to colleges. It's unbelievable how life changes us! I arrived in America when I was 9 years old. Imagine starting your 4th grade school year with absolutely no knowledge in English.
My first year in public high school was horrific. I was not accustomed to the public education system. I felt like a plebe that the first month of my ninth grade. My math teacher, Ms. Misbah was our sergeant, commanding us to do our work. We had rules to obey in our classroom: Never talk while the teacher is talking, do your classwork and homework.
In September of 2010, I started my first year in middle school. I was so happy for school. But this probably end up being the worst year of my life. I started sixth grade at Parkland High School with 800 students in my grade level. I was only 11 years old.
The drive up felt longer than ever and I had mixed emotions because I knew I would get to be able to see some family and friends I hadn't seen in awhile. When we arrived, we were greeted many close and distant family members. In the morning, we went to the cemetary for a private burial for my grandma. I couldn’t help myself from crying and I was very sad. After the private family burial, we drove a short distance down the road to my grandmother's church.
Mainly, that year I had to accept the fact that I could no longer succeed in school and slack off, too. I was all out of sorts. I never had to work hard; school just came naturally to me. So of course, when fifth grade launched a mass of assignments right at my face, all with due dates layered over one another, I, the avid procrastinator, slowly started to drown. For the very first time in my whole school career, I got a B in a subject; I remember crying my eyes out.
My freshman year of high school I felt like I did not fit in anywhere, I felt like I was not good at anything, and I felt like I did not matter. I woke up everyday and I struggled to get out of bed, I hated school, I hated going to practice, I hated the people around me, and mostly- I hated myself. My freshman year of high school I developed situational depression and multiple forms of anxiety. The winter of my freshman year was the lowest I have ever been in my life, I was spiraling into a hole of self-destruction.
The summer after fifth grade was a big summer for me. I felt all powerful since I would be entering the Middle School in three months. I had no idea that not everyone felt that I knew everything in the world.
I took a long, hard look at the people around me and figured out what their good attributes were and why they were significant in my life. When I figured out who they were as people and what they could give as a friend, versus what I needed as a friend, I made my decision. It wasn’t a decision that was said out loud or one that was publicized. I just directed my energy towards the people who needed my friendship in return for the friendship they had shown me. When I realized who was a true friend and who was not, it hurt. There was a lot of pain, knowing somebody didn’t care as much about me and my well=being as I had wanted them to. It wasn’t until later, that I realized they could still be in my life, just not as much involved it as they once