A house divided is not what someone would wish for as a child. As a little kid, I grew up in what I thought was a great christian household. I went to a christian school, I went to a church, and I had christian parents. Of course, as child, I never really understood the real message of God, but I said I did just because it seemed like everyone else understood it. This soon came back to haunt me in my later years as a child. Up until middle school, I enjoyed everything about life, I had a great family, I said I knew God, and I had great friends to take care of me. My perfect life just couldn’t get anymore perfect. Soon after I had thought this, my mom had come up to my brother and I to talk to us in the living room. I was only 10 when my mom broke the news to us that our dad was an alcoholic and that …show more content…
My mom and my brother were both crying and I was sitting there thinking to myself about what could happen to my father. That night, my mom and my dad got in a huge fight when I was trying to sleep. I remember laying in my bed and listening to my parents fight and I was just crying out to God for some help. I never saw an answer to my prayer because my dad got kicked out of the house for a week for drinking again. At that time, I told God that I didn’t need him anymore to try to fix my problems. I soon realized later that God didn’t like me saying that. As we went on a family vacation to Puerto Rico, things were finally getting better and my dad got to go with us. I was then definitely telling myself how well I’m doing without God’s help. Puerto Rico was absolutely beautiful, my family and I enjoyed every moment of the trip up until it was dinner time and we were going out to eat and my dad stayed back at the condo because he was apparently too tired to go eat with his wife and kids. My mom, my brother, and myself all went to go eat at Wendy’s without my
At 6, I awakened to the sound of a violent argument between my father and mother. I didn't know the reason for the quarrel; I just wanted the shouting, cursing and threats to stop. I could even hear them when buried under the pillows and blankets on my bed. My father had lost his job because of his drinking.
Seventeen years ago, I came bounding into a world of love and laughter. I was the first child, the first grandchild, the first niece, and the primary focus of my entire extended family. Although they were not married, my parents were young and energetic and had every good intention for their new baby girl. I grew up with opportunities for intellectual and spiritual growth, secure in the knowledge that I was loved, free from fear, and confident that my world was close to perfect. And I was the center of a world that had meaning only in terms of its effect on me-- what I could see from a height of three feet and what I could comprehend with the intellect and emotions of a child. This state of innocence persisted through my early teens, but changed dramatically in the spring of my sophomore year of high school. My beloved father was dying of AIDS.
I will tell you about my childhood, going on hikes in the "woods" with my brother at a way too early age. Trying to climb trees and rocks, with all the broken bones to show for it. Not the brightest kid at this point, but what I loved was evident at quite an early age. Family and the Forest is what my life revolved around, and then the most influential thing in life threw a curveball. This pitcher was time. I aged along with everything around me, my brother left for college, I entered high school, and my parents had quite the amount of issues at home forcing me to seek solitary within anything that would keep me occupied. Life was meaningless, I fell into a depression that really made me question who I was, and this search came up as empty as searching for my name in google. But then I took a class called Environmental Sciences Honors, followed by Biology Honors, then Biology 2 Honors, then AP Biology, and also AP Language and Composition after I heard that transcendentalism was a large aspect of that
My parents were divorced when I was only two. I was too young to realize what had happened. Their separation had little effect on me at the time, but I would later realize how much this had hurt me. I was left to live with my mother and my older sister. Within a few years, my mom met a man named Arthur. He was a musician. They began seeing a lot of each other and eventually decided to tie the knot. I dressed in pink with pig tails holding my golden locks back from my face. I looked like an angel, but behind this angelic face was pain and suffering that would eventually surface as a teenager.
Today I wake up and stretch. I look around and see what's going on. I spent the night up on the bed and is so very comfortable. I normally get to spend my night sleep next to my parents if you will. I tend to stay on my mom's side as she is more willing to let me have some space. Dad doesn’t like when im on his side.
I was very excited to make a new step in my life, college. I came with high hopes and aspirations. My hometown is not near Arizona, It is Lake Tahoe, Nevada, so going home for the weekend was simply out of the question. I had a great time for the first month, enjoying freedom. However, I was sitting in my room one night writing a paper with my roommate, and one of my friends from home called me. She said that one of our good friends from high school had just committed suicide earlier that day. I didn’t know how to react to this; I was scared, and confused. Why did he do it? Why didn’t anyone know that he was unhappy? Was he unhappy? I felt regret, thinking I should have been there for him. Once the crying commenced, my mother called me telling me that my last grandma had gone into the hospital. She had collapsed in her apartment and was rushed to the emergency center. I had no idea what to do. I felt like God was just condemning me and attacking me for some reason. I went into this deep depression and I didn’t want anyone to talk to me, if they did, I would simply start crying. I was alone, and no one knew who I was. I was too far away from home to go to my friend’s ceremony.
During these years my life was an old television with only three channels: home, school and church; each one being similar to the other with little distinction. Even though my life seemed tedious at times, I learned how to focus, pray and never to give up. In hindsight, I believe my parents raise me in this manner out of fear. I did not grow up in the best of neighborhoods, and my older brother was incarcerated while I was growing up, so I can understand their apprehension. Nevertheless, I had a strong moral foundation to enter the unknown know as college.
"My life is so fucked up thanks to my dad" was the subtext of everything I shared about my life. For sixteen years I recited my pity story to anyone I ever met hoping
I cried until I fell into a heap in my kitchen floor. My nose began to bleed which I experienced on a regular basis. I assumed it was because my sinuses were swollen and raw due to all the tears I had shed throughout the year. I pulled myself somewhat together and held tissue over my nose. My heart was broken and it appeared as if everything I believed was a lie. My God was nowhere to be found. After some time, I called Rose. She was a blessing as always. She encouraged me by just being herself. We talked for a while, and after I hung up I had strength to face another day.
When you look back at life, the time passes by quickly and things change, but the memories will always stay the same. Memories can bring someone back to a time in life where they had the best and worst times in their life; but that’s what is so great about them. A place where most of your memories were made can be very special, mine being my old house I grew up in. It was home, where I was most comfortable, so when my life turned upside down and we had to move, I couldn’t cope very well. My life changed, and all I wanted to do was go back to my comfort place; but I wasn’t able to, which makes the memories of my house even more treasurable.
When I was around 8 years old, me and my sister a huge argument about us going somewhere(I don’t exactly remember the two places) and we both didn’t like where eachother wanted to go, so we were screaming throughout the whole entire house.This was not what we needed to be doing because as a kid, you always want something that your sibling doesn’t want to do. My parents were outside working on something in the garage when all of this was going down, so they were not able to hear us arguing and fighting. As we were arguing, my sister goes storming off to her room and starts to scream and that’s is when my parents heard the sound of the scream and came inside and see what happened. My parents heard my sister crying and knew that she as either very angry or upset so I knew they were going to talk to me first, but they wouldn’t be happy. My
Not knowing God, my attitude was negative, and I was mean, disdain l, and not happy. I had no desire to do anything with my life and did not know what I wanted to do. I just knew that my life was not going anywhere.
One week I would be with my Mom and the next week I would be with my Dad. I knew that my parents still loved my sister and I , but it definitely took a toll on the family as a whole. My Mom seemed depressed some nights. My sister and I would sleep in her bed to make her feel better.That 's when my Mom relayed on her faith to get her through this transition. Every Monday, Wednesdays, and Sundays, My sister, me , and my Mom would be at church. If we woke up late we would have bible study in her living room. She found a different church in Athens, Georgia named Timothy Baptist Church .That’s when she actually felt accepted in a church. I knew during the week my Mom had me I would be at church every other day. The weeks with my Dad were slightly different. With my Dad, he enjoyed going out, shopping, vacations, movies, and etc. He kind of spoiled my sister and I a little more. He never really told us the real reason why he wanted a divorce , he always told us he will tell us when we are older. My Dad found a different church as well.His church was near Atlanta, Georgia and it was named Berean Christian Church. So, once my dad founded a home church, I was going to church with my Dad every single Sunday. Faith played a huge part in my parents forgiveness of each other. The weeks I’m with my Dad, he cooked more. Talked to more to my sister and I more and he became a better listener.It was like he was becoming a better father. The weeks
It was dark that night, I was nervous that this dreadful day was going to get worse. Sunday, October 23, 1998 I wanted to start writing this to tell about the weird things i’m starting to see in this new neighborhood. Gradually I keep seeing pots and pans on the sink suddenly move to the floor. I would ask my sister but she is out with my mom and dad getting the Halloween costumes. When they got home I didn’t tell them what I saw because i've seen Halloween movies and I have to have dissimulation otherwise the ghost will come out and get me first. October 24, 1998 I think I got a little nervous yesterday with the whole ghost thing. 12:32pm, Went to eat lunch with the family today and I go to get my coat. I heard the words furious and madness,
But through it all, I am glad i developed through life the way I am, getting my first real job really help me but my best foot forward into the working world of being in adult. I learned a lot of new things, especially the darker and brighter parts of it all. It really helped push me to do other things that I was afraid to do, like getting my license and my car. I thank my father and my mother for being an influence even if it was negative a lot more than I would have liked. All of these events changed me and made me the man i am today, and I would never go back and change any of