My Experience In My Life

Everybody has a mountain to overcome and it's your choice whether you stay stuck in the valley or rise to the peak. An in my life I've had a mountain that not only I have overcome but, learned valuable lessons along the way. The crux of my struggle was the splitting of my parents which put me through some emotional instability. This, in hindsight, was the best for me as well as my parents but being young and selfish I seen it as my world splitting in half.

It was the first day of school,I was very excited but, I was also very nervous.I had a reason though,I was in the lowest grade of the middle school I was going to attend.I was getting changed and then,I headed out on my way to the bus stop.On the way I passed by Caz’s house and then Caz came out.Caz is my best friend.He has been my friend since kinder when I was the new kid.After he got his backpack we went walking to the bus stop and waited for the bus.

It was an early autumn morning in early September in the year of 2001. The day started off like any other at that time of the year, getting up really early in the morning, cursing the gods because high school had to start so early. After eventually waking up enough to drive into school, I would fly down the road picking up all my friends and then all of us having to run into the building because we tried to milk those last minutes of sleep every morning. It certainly started out just like any other day at that time in my life.

I wake up to see it’s only around 7 AM, a considerably earlier time than usual for me wake up since it's a weekend during my junior year. As soon as I exit my bedroom I see my mom, at this point she had been having a hard time breathing for a few days already and today it looks worse. I can see her struggling and gasping for breaths almost. I decided to sit next to her and she says something along the lines of "I think I have no choice but to go to the hospital" I was shocked because she never goes to the hospital even when she feels horrible. The day before was the day that my mom had gotten paid so she hands me her purse and money when the ambulance arrives.

First day of 7th grade was amazing! Final period came and it was computer class. We would just sit on the computers and learn how to type fast. Once I finished I would play online games while everyone else got into groups. I sat alone because I had recently transferred to a new school due to moving to a new house. My first day of school finished and I had no clue how to get home, I had to remember what my grandma told me and just trust my gut. Walking home wasn't so bad but I took the longest way home. There was a group of girls I thought seemed nice so I followed them. They noticed me as the new kid and asked me to come join the walk home.

When I was younger, I always found myself with a pencil and paper in my hand. I would leave a multitude of marks on the paper in some form or fashion, whether it be scribbles, repetitive words and sentences, my name, or the names of family members. Growing older, I would find myself writing more than enough when it came to essays. I could never bring myself to leave out any details and I rarely used simple sentences. Originally, I thought it was because I wanted the validation of my parents and teachers, but it was something else I had yet to realize. I liked writing and it hit me one day when I was in my room, listening to music.

The searing, stabbing feeling, vibrating through your skull that renders you completely to where you cannot move, talk, or even eat is what hit me on August 11, 2013. The day and night before my 15th birthday was spent in the ER with a crippling migraine. The feeling of being treated like there was nothing wrong with you, and you were just faking it must be the worst feeling I have ever felt in my life. Chronic migraines affect people differently and can cause so many different problems. This is when it all started, when it got better, and when it began to go downhill all over again.

It was the beginning of summer after my seventh grade year. The sun was blazing, the birds were chirping, and I felt an overwhelming sense of freedom. Life seemed great, until the next day when I was bored out of my mind and had nothing to do. During middle school, I followed my brother, Isaac, around like a mime. Whatever he did I would aspire to do the same. This was no different when, bored out of my mind, I found out my brother was going to go disc golfing with the neighbor friends. When Isaac asked me if I wanted to come with, I jumped up, ran to my bike, and told him I was ready whenever he was. I had never heard of what “disc golf” was, but I knew that since my brother was doing it, it was cool! So I followed Isaac and the neighbor friends all the way to Northside Park, sweating immensely from the summer heat and from how quickly I was biking. On the first hole, Isaac gave me my own disc to borrow for the round. This sport was completely foreign to me, so I threw my disc as hard as I possibly could, in an attempt to impress Isaac and his friends. Not only did the disc go absolutely nowhere, but I threw it so high that the wind actually pushed it backwards. I felt humiliated as everybody laughed at me. Isaac, however, came up to me and explained to me how discs fly and the proper way to throw. Each hole, I could visibly see my disc traveling further than the previous hole. Every time Isaac saw me doing something improperly, he would correct me and tell me how to fix

As time went by, it seemed to fly faster and faster. Soon, it was the summer between my sophomore and junior years and I had an abundance of plans for how to spend my summer. One event stood out compared to all of the others. It would greatly influence my life and shape my my thoughts to the way they are today. Reminiscing on the events of my past, my journey to the glamorous mountains of Philmont Scout Ranch in New Mexico to hike for a week is indisputably the greatest memory of my life so far.

As I look back at my life there is only one instance where something happened to me that was so incredibly important then but it does not matter to me anymore. I was about to enter junior high school at St. Joseph catholic school in Sylvania. My parents came to me with a very serious look on their faces. My mother took me by the hand and told me to go sit down in the in the living room.

I remember my parents calling me up an hour before midnight telling me that they would be coming home late from work. That was how I grew up my entire life until I entered high school. As an immigrant family, my parents had to run the extra mile to provide for our family. I was the oldest of my family. Therefore, I had to step up as the mother figure and to take care of my younger brother. Sometimes, my friends would ask me to hang out with them or to come over my house. My answer was no most of the time. I had a younger brother in the house who needed my help with his homework. He couldn’t feed himself so I had to feed him. I remember putting him to sleep one night and just asking myself why I had to do this. I wanted to hang out with my friends and act like a child that I was. I was an eleven-year-old who had to grow up because of the circumstances. And I did not like that. As time passed by, my parents were settling in to this new surrounding and they began to take some of their time off from work to spend time with me and my brother. Even then, there were times where I had to take care of my brother because he couldn’t be home alone.

“Experience is how life catches up with us and teaches us to love and forgive each other”, Judy Collins. I used to look at my life as a series of misfortunate events. It wasn’t until I was older that I realized my life, my experiences, made me who I am. This realization changed who I was and who I wanted to be. In The Last Lecture, Randy Pausch wrote, “It’s not about the cards you’re dealt, but how you play the hand.” I was so focused on the cards in my hand, that I couldn’t even play.

In life there are many obstacles a person will face, such as school, work, family and time.

As I'm writing this, we have just returned from a 5 day hospital stay. Life has become a series of doctors' appointments, tests, and hospital stays. This is life with a chronic illness. . . especially one of which not much is known. But life wasn't always this way.

Stomp,stomp,stomp!That's all that the 12 year old boy David Henry heard day after day. That’s because he was shipped with his Dad to the military. Then one day on the ship that the Army likes to call the submaripper. It was called the submaripper because the ship was 40 acres in total and could sink a ship by just ramming into it. Another 12 year old boy came to David who was quietly waiting for any excitement below deck. He said his name was Tanner and like David his mom was shipped to the military.