Personal Narrative

I was talking to myself. Talking! Talking! Talking! Talking that set into panic. Panicking to the point that I had forced myself to attempt standing still in my narrow apartment hallway to allow my tears to ever-so-dramatically drip across my now confused expression. I was confused to where shaking was the only message my brain could transmit. My hands picking my scalp out of nervousness, scratching my head and neck as if I had been infected with a parasite, I could not stop scratching. Gargantuan tears raining on my swelling cheeks, the vibrations of my choleric voice ringing in my ears. Trembling was the only remedy to the yammer of confessions that were spewing like a waterfall out of my mouth; it was a frighteningly human moment from a

White, stained with an old mirror’s shadow in yellow, and barely holding on was this lifeboat of reassurance that I attached myself to like a child to its mother. There were moments when I would let go and pace, back-and-forth, back-and-forth, but with alarm and anxiety controlling each step. I could not let go of this reality that I was a failure when so many had failed before me. It was as if my mind was as scattered as the pillows on my couches I threw in the beginning of my talk with myself. Overused and underappreciated, the pillows laid on the ground accepting my anger with myself. I kept repeating that I was a “mess” and how no college would accept me. “You are worthless”, I would scream through my fits of blubbering. I hated myself on that day in July, with a fiery unwavering

My legs squashing down under this mental defeat deafening my other body parts enough to follow along. The scratched hardwood floors of the 1980s were my new safety net, catching every hollow whisper to myself. They became the embrace I could not find, they were my “It’s Okay.” and the subtle rub of the back. I opened my once stapled eyes to finally find my world quiet; I had stopped talking. The storm of my failure was over, but the pain was still a leech on my newfound bit of happiness. My limbs one by one came together and lifted me to my sofa, now out of my darkness. I could see outside my window a Cherry Blossom