In My Own World

I walked away feeling like I was a complete failure and that I didn’t deserve to go on. On the way home my mother tried to talk to me, but, I put on my headphones and cried silently. Once we were home my father asked how it went. The tears that were in my eyes and they became more evident as my shoulders and chest were shaking and trembling. The only sound in the room was the sound of me crying and wailing. I started crumbling and falling to the ground and my mother and father rushed to my side. They held me until the tears came to a stop and a little bit afterwards

I sat on the stairs with tears streaming down my face. I look up, sobbing as I wipe the snot from my nose. “This is goodbye for now, but I promise I will see you soon”, my dad had said as he held me. I grabbed onto my dad’s shirt as he tried to put me back down on the stairs and I felt as if my whole world came crashing down. Growing up with divorced parents was a challenge, but it has changed me drastically and for the better. I had to take care of my younger brother during the divorce, which made our relationship stronger and would mature me more than I would ever actually realize.

It all started on a warm sunny day, my dad had just arrived from Michigan. He came into the house gave my siblings, my mother and me a hug and told us the big news. “We are moving to Michigan” he said. He said it so calmly as if expecting my siblings, my mother and myself to react in a good way. Immediately I started to panic, I didn’t want to leave the place I grew up in. I was only eleven years old, I didn’t know how the people in Michigan would be. Finally I spoke “ I don’t want to move dad, I love it here!” which he responded with “I’m sorry but we are going to move because we can’t afford to live here anymore” He said this so emotionless as if not knowing how this could affect me. I hardly got any sleep that night for the fact that my parents were arguing for what felt like all night, but in reality was just an hour.

My father finally spoke up and said abruptly, we are moving to California. I said what!. That answer moving to California, was almost equal to my uncle telling me "Your Sister Jackie is dead." I knew that my girlfriend, my anchor on earth was disappearing from my life. And now she was gone, 35 days after I lost my sister. My earth angle, I dreamed of being my wife was gone. I felt like I was having a nightmare and couldn't wake up, how could all this be happening to me. Despair sit like a stone in my stomach, like concrete boots dragging me toward what felt like my inevitable end. "I'm not going to make it. "I was in a state of melancholy depression.Laced with a fatal sense of my own wretchedness. I was fourteen years old and felt like I was

“This is an extremely painful and uncomfortable book. The author's father committed suicide when she was only 13 years old, leaving behind a wife and four children. Obviously, the struggle to go on with life, to find joy again, wasn't easy. The author writes to her dad as a way to heal, wondering if he can hear her words from wherever he is. She wisely understands that she will never truly know why he committed suicide but she also knows that she was irrevocably transformed by this act.

Even six year old me could see the great suffering my father experienced not only mentally but physically. I recall once walking in the bathroom and seeing my father vomit, it was the first time I seen him so vulnerable. I could see the pain in his eyes. It was our third month in the united states and my father could not find a job, it was killing him. He was considering a job as a dishwasher to support his family, for that I could never repay him. A sprinkle of hope glimmered in our dark world when my dad got a job as a dispatcher at a local Airport, when I look back now I wonder if father ever felt disappointed that his hard nights of studying in college was futile, if he know that he would have to give up his career to support his family. Soon we moved out of my aunt and uncle’s how’s into a small one bedroom apartment in a sketchy neighborhood. By that time my mother has lost a total of thirty pounds. The once vibrant and sociable women was always tired, she often made called relatives back home which resulted in her crying for hours. My father would often cook and clean, it was fascinating to see my dad performing these tasks

No one was getting along, and he was drinking more after the death of my grandfather. We had been is Yosemite for a few days and it was our last night. We decide to go eat dinner and play cards together. From the start he had already made fun of my brother and had been putting my mom down. So much so, that before I could finishing dealing the cards, eli was leaving and my mom was silent. I forgot what I said now, but I remember the response, and the look I got. After I heard the words everyone stopped moving. I held half the deck in my hands, Eli stood, half way through pushing in his chair, and my mom looked up in shock. He didn't say anything else to me, just stared. At first, I don't think I really processed what he said, but that night I really thought about it. I realized then that my dad was truly gone. He wasn’t a dad anymore, he was a strange, someone I no longer knew. I promised myself that week that I need to grow up, and let go of the believe that my dad was suppose to be someone I looked to for advice and help. Now, I do most things for myself. It hurts the most when I see my brother. He used to be so fun, and outgoing, and now, I can see the impact my dad has had on his feelings. It hurts because he has had to grow up earlier that I had to. I’m still not quite there yet, and I still struggle a lot with everything, but I'm figuring things out, and needless to say, I grew up that

On January 5, 2009 my father pasted away. He and I did not have the typical father-son relationship; we did not have a relationship at all. I presumed that it would have a little if any affect on me. However, as the semester continued, it seemed to get worse. Besides my father’s passing, several weeks later my grandmother was diagnosed with dementia. It was difficult for me to deal with, but it was more difficult for my mother to handle.

We walk back to the shelters to get some sleep, and I sit there awake for a minute until my father falls asleep. In the morning when I awake, my father is very sick, so I take him to the doctor. The doctor rejects to help because he is a surgeon. I take my father back to the shelter to let him rest some more. I leave him to go outside to get more coffee. I think back to all the things me and my father have been through. Losing my mother and sister will always reply through my head, remembering them holding hands and moving off to the left, and my father holding onto my hand, and we walking away from them. The last thing I got to do was just look into there eyes and turn and walk away. Once I got back I found my father not there. I knew where he had gone, they had taken him to the furnace. I dropped to the floor wanting to cry, wanting to have a fit like a normal teenager. Deep into his feelings he thought “Free at last.” He was free to only think about surviving, and not to worry about anyone but himself. I will miss my father. I love him. I will never forget how much he did for me, he is the reason why I am still

Chapter 8: I love this chapter so much. "People who care for others have been found to have less depression and higher life satisfaction-they are more protected from disease and even death." (Napoli, 2014). My mom has been my greatest example and my anchor in life. The divorce between my parent is quite ugly. They have been divorce for over a decade; my dad still talks about bad things behind her back. I confronted my father that I know the exact reasons behind the divorce and asked him to stop talking bad things about mom. Sometimes, I will tell my mom what my dad said about her. She would not be angry; instead, she will ask me to forget about what he said and do not let it disturb me. My parent has mutual friends, and I thought my mom will be disconnected with all of them. Instead, she still stays in touch with them and even hang out with them. She is such a woman who has a big and loving heart!

As a young girl, I never quite understood the importance my dad’s job had on me until I became much older. Throughout my childhood I was often mistreated out of the sight of my parents. From brutal words to simple exclusion, I never really fit in at my church. I was constantly separated from all of the children because I was the Pastor’s

Throughout my life, I’ve gone through everything that could possibly put me in emotional distress. I’ve been down a broken road with my father, the man I love so much I’ll make every excuse for whenever he disappoints me. I’ve encountered life where it’s not so enjoyable due to unacceptance and never ending judgment by my biggest critic, my mother, the woman whom I should feel most secure with. However despite the emotional mounds of pain these matters carry, I was able to lift the suffocating weight long enough to realize everything that burdened me, made me strong enough to have the will power to be independent and make life changing decisions on my own. At three years old, I met my biological father in a local supermarket’s parking lot; I remember vividly, the exact moment when this stranger held me in his broad, strong arms. I recall screaming at an immense volume not even laying eyes on him. All I had been focused on was finding my mother, the woman who played both parental roles in my life. This clearly justified the great state of confusion I was in in his presence since I wasn’t at all aware I even had a father. As I grew older, the visits to my father’s house became the norm and having begun developed a “best friend” type of relationship with him, I found myself crying more and more when I had to go back to my mom’s settlement. I never wanted to leave; my life became filled with happiness, filled with a father’s love I had never felt

Every night, as I sat on the table with my younger brothers assisting them with their homework, I hear a familiar sound at the door. As she walks her heels click, and I can hear her searching her bag for her keys, the next thing I know the keys are in the lock and as it turns me and my younger brothers’ jump. We run to the door and indeed we scream in unison “Mommy’s home”, one by one she gives us a hug and a kiss. My mother asks us how our day was, and if we finished our homework, she then looks to me and said “did you cook and assist your younger ones with their homework”; I replied “yes mom”. As I warm the food, I take my mother’s purse, jacket, and shoes put them away and prepare the table for her to eat dinner. As I glance at the

My mother is leaving me behind with my father, and I know my father is careless about it, because if he was, I wouldn’t see him bring such other woman inside this house while my mother is lying in bed with an illness. I wouldn’t see so much pain my mother went through before, and now that she’s blind and has this ill, it worries me why I cannot do anything but to know I have such a cruel father that does not do any help at all.

Devastated, I ran to my room gushing my eyes out. All these emotions going through my head of how my life would be without my parents in the same room or even house. From what I remember it all started about mid-June, the weeks before that were crucial. My parents would always argue over how to deal with a situation between me and my brother, Skyler. They hardly spoke to one another, but when they did they would just start bickering. I remember, one night after dinner they both went into ''their'' room with the door locked yelling at one another. Skyler and I didn’t know what to do, so we went downstairs and tried to figure out what was going to happen. With a scared tone I asked if mom and dad were going to get a divorce?" He answered back '' No, they love each other, they wouldn’t do that to us." That following night, was a school night everything was quiet except for my crying. I couldn’t sleep; all I was thinking about how it's going to affect my family.