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Depression and its effect on teens
Family influence in adolescence
Depression and its effect on teens
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It’s dark out. And it’s cold. No one wants to enter that wild beast, but the cold drives me in. The cold might be more abuse than inside, but inside is warmer. Even the lashes, even the words, even the cuts are better than outside. My pillow is damp. Damp from tears. Damp from fear. Damp from the unknown. Fear is the only reason I’m scared of coming home. Fear is why I’m scared of running away. Fear keeps me far, and close at the same time. Every night the same thought recurs; If I ran away, where would I go? Would it all be better? But I know that is just farfetched. The paper route doesn’t cover the cost of dinner. The paper route doesn’t cover the cost of laundry. I work in order to feed myself, in order to clothe myself, in order to
I love the writing style. It's kept tight yet descriptive as needed. Its opening hooked me: "It was cold, the kind of cold that made bones feel brittle and hands ache. My breath streamed from my lips like smoke and my feet made wet, crunching sounds ...
The chilling night wind rushes through the air, and cuts sharply across my skin, leaving a cold sting in my fingertips, making it harder to hold on. The curtain beneath me sways and shifts as I inch my way down.
Your black whispers seep into my frantic mind, And your rancid mutterings make my insides bleed. The shards of my shattered heart cut me open from the inside, And the fire you spark in my blood burns me.
My legs are tangled with anxious. Residents around me are dead still under the cover of the fractured moonlight. Layers of darkness flood my mind along with waves of dread. I’m terrified. More than terrified. My heart flops like a dead fish running dry of hope.
I’m going to get out of my bed and go down the cold steps to my kitchen. The room where my family is waiting with a stack of pancakes, two blue waxy fours speared through the top— their white wicks waiting to start life while I’m waiting for it stop and slow down. I’m going to go into my kitchen and stare into the colored wax dots spread about the candles, letting a breath wail out like a cry, vanquishing
Unfortunately, not all memorable events are pleasant. Although most people immediately think of a positive experience when asked, "What is your most memorable event?" The typical responses are happy thoughts, however; that is not the case at hand. By definition, bittersweet means both pleasant and painful; two emotions: sadness and happiness, endured at the same time. Hell with a silver lining describes it just as well, I believe.
My room had all the cheeriness of a dungeon and the appeal of a tomb. It was going to be impossible to stay there, but leaving held no attraction for me, either….
Cold wind in my hair, aroma of crushed autumn leaves and the warm shadows of trees around me. Riding my Father's old orange racing bike around the neighbourhood, only interrupted from the serenity by passing cars. The crisp Autumnal air blasted at my face sends chills down my spine. The streets are coated by oak and maple leaves that have met their colourless end.
Emerson is correct that if one wants to grow ones will have to get out of that comfort zone. If one already mastered something and not trying new things that person will never grow as a person. Exploring to new projects, to new places , and to new people will help ones grow. Just doing the same thing repeating will get exhausting and not exciting .
This school year has been a downhill slide from start to finish, started it off by moving into a new house with family members that moved here from across the country, then we ended up having to kick some of them out, and while that was happening some of our animals disappeared or got injured so much that they had to be put down. Then our horse and mule got lost, and found, by one of our neighbors.
I felt like I was on the outside, staring in. thick glass separating me. It’s like a cage, surrounding me, moving forward with every step I take, keeping the barrier strong and real.
Out of all the quarters this school year, I feel like this quarter has made me progress the most, because I put a lot of effort into reading books and enjoying them, there are many . As expected, I got better and faster at reading but an unexpected change was that I write better compared to last year. One of my major losses was that I was becoming uninterested and bored from too much reading, which explains why my total pages read decreased compared to the other quarters.
I awoke on a summer day, birds singing, children playing, but all the joy and the innocence of this was behind me. I couldn't just get up and play, or sing, because I was chained to a wall.
When I was a boy, I was always happy and was a bright student. I was always eager to learn something new and I always gave my best effort at whatever I did, all the while helping my peers to learn in a fun and creative way. One summer during elementary school, my parents sat me down on my living room couch and delivered the worst news a little boy could hear: my best friend had drowned at a birthday party that I was getting ready to go to. I was different from that point on, seemingly forever. I became unhappy, yet I was still a bright kid, but I lost my ability to self-motivate. My parents tried to help me as best they could, which led to them sheltering me throughout high school. I felt suffocated by their actions, even though they had my best interests in mind.