Non-Negotiable-Personal Narrative

In chapter three it explains why your thought make you feel depress. “Every bad feeling you have is the result of your distorted negative thinking” (Burns, 1980, p. 28). It is feeling of beeng trap in negativity and emptyness. As I have mentioned in the past, I work at the Dollar General as a cashier. Lately, they ask me if I wanted to become a lead, I was surprise that they choose me, because I fell that I am not good for that position. The reason I mentioned this situation again is because as I was reading this chapter, I notice that all the “definition of cognitive distortion” applied to this circumstances:

You could tell my brother was screaming as much as he could with his small little lungs. I quickly ran over to our tiny bathroom wondering what was going on. There you could see my little brother using all his force to hold up my mom who had fainted on our cement floor. Even with the two of us repeatedly yelling at her to wake up, her eyes stayed closed. I began to really worry. I ran over to her bedroom and scurried through my blanket looking for my phone. As my sister dialed 9-1-1, I ran back into the bathroom where my brother was sobbing. My sister had already called my aunts and cousins over. They were all trying to help wake her up. They called out her name multiple times. They also hovered rubbing alcohol under her nose, in hopes of her waking up. I let my brother know that everything was going to be fine and that the ambulance would be here in no time to help my mom. I was shaking as I sat next to my brother helping him hold up my mom. My older cousin took our spots and helped sit my mom up.

In 2025, I will be twenty-nine years old and hopefully married. I will be married to my significant other of ten years Earnest Palmer III, who is a dentist. I would have been recently graduating with a bachelor’s in Culinary Arts and trying to plan to open my own restaurant, BubbaD’s Eateries. Knowing my big headed husband of mine, I probably had a baby then and trying to have another baby. Hopefully, by then Earnest will get rid of the idea naming our son, King. We will be living in the suburbs near New York City but working in the city. Being a woman with great memory, I probably wrote a memoir about my crazy life and trying to sell it to a publisher. If none of the publishers wants to publish my memoir, I will probably sell it the Lifetime

Bare with me for another blog post about volleyball. This weekend was the Badger Region Volleyball Tournament, which my team participated in. When I walked into the building, the memories flooded in with scenes from the elevator adventures, cheese fries, and design your own sweatshirts. The first day, my team didn't play up our full potential, with my team only winning one out of three matches; which meant that we didn't place in any of the brackets, meaning zero chance of receiving a medal. However, at the end of the second match, I got switched from being middle all-around to libero ( a position where you only play back row on offense and defense). I guess it's an honor, but it puts a lot of pressure on me by labeling me as the best passer

Earlier this week, I got in touch with the game warden that I had previously had a ride along with and asked if I could go on another one. I was told to meet at the Brunswick office at 10:00 am. There I was to meet up with Corporal Kate Hargrave. I arrived at the Brunswick DNR office at approximately 9:40 because early is on time, and on time is late. When I pulled into the front parking lot, I noticed a man standing by a truck parked near the entrance that said “NOAA Law Enforcement” on the side. As this was an unusual sight, I decided to walk over and introduce myself. The man by the truck was Agent Ben Hughes. After talking to him for a few minutes, Corporal Hargrave arrived and informed me that Agent Hughes would be joining us for the

A'nari hurry up the show is about to start. Me and my bestfriend Jehlani run to our seats in the croweded arena. Soon as we get to our ring side seats the pyro to start raw goes off. We cheer loud and more pyro goes off. We sit in the arena and watch Raw and it is fantastic. After the show is over we leave the arena and walk the busy streets of The Bronx.

We made it to the hospital in time for them to save Derrick from any horrible damage from the bullet that was lodge centimeters away from his heart. Since he was released from the hospital three months ago he been living in my other guest room upstairs. I been by his side because he always been by mine. Even though he cheated on me and was right down disrespectful on my big day I forgave him for it all a long time ago. Come to find out the crazy and super intelligent person that shot Derrick was Carla stupid ugly ass. How I found out was because I have All Purpose under surveillance every square inch of it and she took everything off when she left out the back door and then looked directly into the camera hahahaha silly girl. Then she throws

Kenzie spun the wheel after everything calmed down and we were finally able to breathe. Her game piece moved to a gray space. I spun the wheel afterwards, meeting a gray space as well. Joel was next and he spun the wheel, just missing red by one space. Kenzie spun the wheel, and her tombstone moved 8 spaces and stopped just in front of Joel's. She landed on red. We looked at each other, the dead silence adding to the suspense as she took a red card from the deck. She read it slowly, her hands were noticeably shaking as she held the card in her hand.

I sat there with my legs crossed for hours. The tingly numbness rose up from my toes to the top of my spine. Hours of nothingness. Hours of staring at a blank sheet of paper. Hours of complete and utter silence. Then, it began. My pencil, which was previously silent, began to speak. The shapes flowed out no real meaning. No sense just movement. I began to move my pencil with brisk movements. Soft and then brisk once more. Switching the colors once, twice, and then again. Shading, blending, redrawing, and repeat. Over and over again as the colors flowed out and told me something that I wasn't expecting, completion.

I can still recall that day and its scent; the scent of freshly sharpened wooden pencils, disinfectant, old paper, and dust. The busy hustle and bustle of the halls of chattering kids walking to class and teachers shouting in different directions. All of this appeared to me highly surreal; I might have been there physically, but I was not entirely there psychologically. To me, it was all a moving picture in mute. I could see, feel, smell, and taste, but I could not listen. I was only able to perceive gabble, meaningless sounds that were meant to be words, but, unfortunately, did not make any sense.

There are two kinds of people in this world: there's the people that are able to avoid hitting traffic cones, and then there's me. I've found underwear in my lunchbox. Face wash in my locker. My phone in the fridge. Now don't get me wrong, I'm usually a pretty organized person, but on occasion I find my things in places they typically don't belong with no recollection of them getting there. 9 times out of 10, that's perfectly okay. But the tenth time, when I pulled up into my driveway with a traffic cone suctioned to the front of my car, that was definitely NOT okay. I honestly couldn't tell you exactly how it happened, all I know is that at some point between my high school parking lot and my home, I hit a traffic cone so hard that it got stuck to my car. Since the incident, I have become a much better driver, but my friends will all tell you that I will never be able to look at a traffic cone the same way again. It has become something of a joke- the amount of photos of traffic cones that have been sent to me by my friends and family is absurd, but I can't say that it's a bad thing. I took that situation as a lesson learned to be a more careful driver, and made light of it. I

For the next few weeks, I pride myself on being a good little captive. I do everything in my power to get him to trust me, hoping that he’ll let me out of here so that I can escape. So far, it seems like it’s working. He hasn’t laid a hand on me since I confronted him about who he was, and he even seems happier now. For some reason, he seems to be falling for it, which is good news for me.

One day, my dad was setting up my new Xbox 360. My uncle had gotten a new Xbox 1, so he gave me his old one. I was excited, because I didn't have to play on my dad’s Xbox. Then, for some reason, I called my mom an idiot. My dad HATES it when people talk like that in our house, and I know he would definitely not like it if I called my mom that. Plus, he was a little bit cranky that day. When my dad heard this, he went ballistic. He was screaming about how disrespectful that was and then he yanked out the cord`s of the Xbox from the wall. Have you ever had that feeling where you know something is going to happen and everything slows down? That is what happened to me. My dad raised the Xbox high above his head. His face was red and on his face.

It was september 3 when it happen. I finally had the strength to introduce my whole family the person I wanted for my life. I already knew how everything was going to be, i’ll introduce him as my partner and they are going to act nice with him but when i'm alone with a family member they would tell me “why him?” or “you could do better”. Why did I pick him and not someone else? how come I had lasted so long with him to be able to introduce him to my family, could I do better?

Dreams have been around as long as the first civilization came to be and have been a normal part of human existence. One third of your life is spent sleeping, and of that third, on average you will have spent a total of about six years of it dreaming. Most people dream on average two hours every night, but you can have anywhere from four to seven dreams in one night. According to research, the most common setting for a dream is in your own house. In our dreams we can do anything we want and be whoever we want to be. Our dreams are an escape from reality. While we dream we are unable to control our actions and choose our surroundings. We let our minds take over. Sometimes dreams can be understood in the context of repressed thoughts. Dreaming serves as an outlet for those thoughts and impulses we repress during the day. When we go to sleep at night and slip into our dream state, we feel liberated and behave in a manner that we do not allow ourselves to in our everyday life. Visions and ides can come from your dreams. Often, authors, screenwriters, and even poets turn to their dreams for inspiration. The think quest oracle library goes on to tell about the most well-known of the modern dream