Descriptive Personal Experience Essay

877 WordsOct 5, 20174 Pages
I was in my room listening to music. My room would normally have a very serene feeling to it. My room had a beautiful dream catcher hanging on the wall and there was also a very big window that made it possible for me to see the moon every night. I always felt very relaxed in my room, but that day I could hear the screaming and arguing between my mom and my dad in the background. It was horrible. I could feel my eyes starting to water because I hated hearing my parents fight. The fighting and arguing continued for days. On one evening I could hear the voices of my parents arguing with my brothers. I was in my room as always and I started to feel room getting really hot. The noises and everything else around me made me feel very…show more content…
“I haven 't been feeling so great lately”,I said in a soft tone. My mom glanced at me with a very puzzled expression on her face. “What do you mean? Are you sick?”, she asked with confusion in her voice. “No, I mean I don’t know I just haven 't been feeling too great emotionally i guess.”, I responded in a very little voice because I thought that maybe she would think that I was crazy. Once I said that my mom stopped folding all of the laundry. “Since when?”, my mom asked with a very surprised tone. “Maybe like 3 months.”, I responded. “What! Three months why didn’t you tell me”. “ I didn’t tell you because I thought you wouldn’t understand.”, I said in a tone that almost sounded annoyed, which I think I might have been. “ I think you should go to the doctor.”, she told me. I didn’t want to go to the doctor, but I knew that it would most likely help me. A couple days later I went to the doctor and he just asked me a bunch of questions. One of the questions was, what did it feel like to have an anxiety attack. That was probably one of the hardest questions i had ever had to answer. I couldn 't find the right words to describe how it felt. As he kept asking me questions he would write things down. I couldn’t help but wonder what he was writing down. I would keep having the thought that maybe he was writing down all of the bad things. After the doctor stopped talking to me he started to talk to my mom about ways to help

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