Anxiety And Objects-Personal Narrative

I’ve always looked at different objects and never connected to them. It wasn’t until I had received a keyboard that I realized that an object could become something more valuable then just inanimate. A piano has become this sentimental thing to me. Playing the piano with my mother has formed a strong bond between us. Every time I play the piano, it makes the bond between my mother and I stronger. Playing and listening to the piano is a comforting outlet. The music is relaxing. It also has taught me something new. Learning to play the piano takes time and practice. You have to learn about its functions to understand how it works. A piano is considered a musical instrument. Nothing special to it besides that fact that it

Humans struggle their entire lives to find affection that satisfies them. We assign this affection to objects that we obtain throughout our lives. An engagement ring, for example, is a large meaning attached to a small object. While it still has quite a high expense, women care more about the man who it’s from than the store, well, hopefully. In Akiko Busch’s story The Uncommon Life of Common Objects, she explores the objects her two sons, and people in general, become attached to over time. There’s a certain box she brings up and says “Sometimes the little box had value, sometimes it had none, and its worth seemed to come and go, by pure chance” (1). She discusses why certain things are worth more than others and why certain things have more

A man with a deep and raspy voice stated over the loud speaker that “Matthew Kosednar should report to the scales and see a mat coordinator”. There was no turning back. This was it. I swallowed any bit of fear inside me, for what might be my last chance to do so. I stood on the scale and was given the all clear. Making my way to the mats, I would endure the longest five minutes of my life. Finally, a mat was available for my opponent and I. Oh wait! My opponent. I glanced to my right and he had just made it off the scale. One of the largest men I had seen in my entire life stepped forward. A man of seventeen years of age, with remnants of a beard and washboard abs, stepped forward. I tried to stay positive. I told myself that I got this, that I could do

Please don't think I am here for sympathy. This is not meant as a sob story, this is meant as a warning. Please, be cautious. There are monsters lurking out there.

Instructions: Read the following case study about a woman, Allison, who is suffering from anxiety. After you have read the case study, diagnose Allison and present some methods of treatment by answering the questions.

That was the phrase that had been assaulting my ears for the last half an hour. Although it wasn’t odd that someone was telling me that specific phrase, this time it was different. My grandmother, whom I thought had understood my problems, had just proven to me that she actually didn’t. At the age of 12, I was heartbroken.

I experienced childhood in a three-room duplex with six other individuals, my mother, father, older sister Claire(17), and three younger brothers Colin(13), Cody(10), and Cason(8). Life was entirely typical for me when I was younger, aside from me breaking a bone on a play area zip line, however next to that, I would state I was normal. My dad was and is still an extremely giving individual, I mean we could be penniless, and he would in any case attempt to help everybody out. I figure that rubbed off on me in light of the fact that as I got older I began volunteering at places like Ivey Ranch since I loved horses and the nearby schools. I started to understand that I cherished the sentiment helping individuals and it soon turned into an energy of mine. I think it is the sort of person I am, a person who loves to help when there is nothing to be given in return. Alongside this, I'm a person that is continually changing and learning things, what I mean by this is I am continually attempting to better myself, and the community that I live in by utilizing my background and advice from others.

As I was growing up, I would have never expected my life would come to this. It began gradually and continued until it engulfed me. My whole life revolved around it, and would change the person I am for the rest of my life. The constant fear and paranoia, are unimaginable, and no description, or imaginary details can truly capture the extent of its effects. It is my bully, yet I cannot tell someone, get help, and stop it. This bully is not in my class, but instead in my head. His name is anxiety.

Everything had led up to this moment. There were the remaining two finalists at the 2006 Winter Olympic Games, ready to risk it all. I tensed my shoulders, ready to make the final jump that would land me onto the podium. After jumping off the bed and nailing a perfect landing, I was an all American gymnast. I ran toward the makeshift gold medal, a marvelous sight made of a single dollar coin taped to a piece of yard. I looked backwards to see how the other finalist had fared, and every compelling emotion swapped places for a single word: dread. Forty minutes later, we were at JFK’s emergency center, awaiting the results of my brother’s MRI.

Objects can prove to be the cause of some of the most impactful features or events in someone’s life. “Once he finished work on the Prospector and we struck it rich, he’d start work on our Glass Castle.” (Walls 25). The Prospector was a symbol of aspiration, she wanted to have a more exciting and fulfilling life. Although it also represents lies and distrustfulness because her father never actually worked on the Prospector. Instead, he went out and got drunk. The Glass Castle is quite impactful in Jeannette’s life, it gave her hope for a better life. However it’s not just that, it’s confidence in her father. That he will provide for her and create a good life for her, despite the drinking and other horrible habits he has developed. Jeannette

The object I carry is a black leather key chain from a dream car I want. My dad’s friend gave it to me when i was about 6 years old. It is a hand made kangaroo black leather keychain with a light brown stitching.It feels like a small leather medieval shield with a metallic engraved logo that has red and gold stripes, a black horse in the middle and some reef shapes on the bottom left and top right sections. I always just used to have it laying around and wouldn’t really value it. The keychain was as big as my hand when I was 6 and I would use it like a little shovel to make little moat for my “imaginary castle” in the backyard. I never honestly cared about it until I saw the same logo on a car while my family and I were coming home from a road

I strutted into the heavy metal doors that led to the concessions in the US Bank arena. As I walked in I was immediately freezing in the open hallway with stands full of rolling hotdogs and popping popcorn against the walls. The ceilings were high and and everything was cold. The stands were empty and we had no idea where to go. My parents and I were wandering around searching for the weigh ins, and as we explored, we heard a large crowd. We walked towards the sound and there were chairs filled with friends and families aimed towards tables filled with the fighters of the last few fights. I was hesitant because in front of the table full of fighters were a stage with a scale. I got frigid, I asked my parents if they were cold and they said they were fine, so I knew it was because I was nervous.

(Narration) It sits there on a shelf, shoved away into a drawer, or even neatly wrapped and sat alone in a box. Has it been in the family for a lifetime? Or has it simply just been in an event that cannot be forgotten. But it will remain where it is. It does not have say where it belongs, or even how it is viewed, if it even can be viewed anymore. The purpose of this item still remaining is known to few, but is genuinely known by one. The owner of this item cherishes it dearly as if he or she were traveling back to the day they associate that item with. Everyone has at least one item that means more to them than just some materials thrown together to craft an overpriced product. But we owners don’t care about the condition it is in, nor do we care about how much the item was. The fact of the matter is that it means more to us in some form.

of me. I remember how I felt after being awoken by the fear of death.

“Okay Lauren, you can do this. Just don’t die and you’ll be fine,” I said to myself hoping that I was right. The music stopped and I sauntered onto the floor. It was navy blue and not as malleable as ours. My heart beat started beating heavier and more intense. BA BUMP BA BUMP BA BUMP. I reached the corner of the floor and wiped my hands on my legs. I looked at my coach and she gave me a reassuring smile. I took a deep breath and started to sprint across the floor. I felt the satisfying thud of my hands making contact with the floor and my feet landing back on the floor. All I had to do know was wait for the next routine to finish so I could do it again.