Personal Narrative Analysis

Once upon a time, there was an illegal immigrant named Rosa she came from a poor family and her mother left her when she was 4 years old for another man.

Walking the overgrown paths in the expansive woods behind my house, I tried again to escape the claustrophobia of the cul-de-sac and the boredom of a small town. The forest was my sanctuary, and I walked knowing every rock, root, and bush. Then suddenly, it was different. My eyes hit the familiar clearing ahead, and I launched into a sprint through the underbrush, leaping up and over the barbed wire-topped rock wall. Landing with a whoop of delight, I eyed the novelty, a huge, brown steer, staring back at me. Molten joy turned to icy fear, and the steer began to charge. Thirty seconds of terror later, I noticed two things as I heaved against a maple tree: my now dung-covered shoes were ruined, and my curiosity was finally piqued.

After reading, I thought about the mental health continuum and how fear, the root of anxiety, was such a universal part of the human experience. While creating the piece I thought about how anxiety blurs out reality, trapping the individual in a swirl of fearfulness and intense worries. It is not considered pathological to be a “worry wart” or a “scardey-cat.” The problem is not the presence of fear, instead it is the overwhelming, debilitating, and persistence of those fears and worries.

Me just like any other human being make mistakes we’re not perfect, but we’re all special in our own ways. Something I feel makes me special is that at a very young age i started playing sports. I now consider myself an athlete. That makes me feel special because not everyone is capable of having to do school work and play sports during school. Sports have also showed me discipline. Another thing that it showed me was how to take leadership and help others.

Everyone will experience a death in their life at least once whether it’s a family member or friend, they will react to it differently and has to grieve in their own way. Death isn't something that someone looks forward too, so watching someone go from healthy, to where they can barely walk or talk on their own isn’t easy. But getting a lesson out of someones death takes away some of the pain, and helps you move on.

Anytime I hear someone say that I’ve changed or that I'm a lot different now than I used it be, it brings to mind a certain set of events that occurred just before I entered high school. In eighth grade I had few worries and spent most of my time playing sports. Although I made good grades, sports were my number one priority. I often wondered what I would do in my free time if I didn’t play a sport. Little did I know I would soon find out. Midway through my 8th grade football season I tore my ACL (anterior crucial ligament) . The injury required surgery and meant that I would be out of all sports for at least six months. Everyone said I'd be back on the field in no time, but six months sounded like an eternity. My goal was to complete

I vividly remember trying to sleep when the air was heavy and musty, so much so that I was felt like there was a natural order preventing me from breathing enough air to sustain my body for another seven hours. I laid in bed, quietly terrified – wondering if this is the life that I am destined to follow, living in unfinished basements where it floods when it rains too much and bugs crawl along the walls and dressers. It would not be the worst fate but it would not be preferable by any means. Finally, willing myself to step out of bed (again), I grab my half-finished green tea and watch a documentary in the “upstairs” portion (separated by three steps) to forget my worries until the next night. Close to drinking the honey and tea mixture, I see an abnormal shape at the bottom of my mug – a house centipede that was enticed by the sweet honey but unfortunately was unable to escape its viscous grasp and drowned in my lukewarm tea. I didn’t scream, I didn’t cry; all I was capable of thinking

As a kid, I had a fear of falling. Maybe it was due to my subconscious remembrance of falling off the porch when I was three or perhaps my fear was irrational. But for whatever reason, I was terrified to fall. Though for most people, they are afraid of falling and heights. But that was not the case for me. I wasn’t scared of riding horses, even when I was feet away from the ground while riding them. But, as I didn’t want to fall, I was cautious and careful. I rode with the reins tighter than necessary and always leaned forward in the saddle when going at any speed other than walk.

As a child I never realized the true advantages I was given in life. My understanding of the wonderful things that come from knowing the English language never occurred to me. Being naive, I thought everyone that spoke English spoke it the same, not knowing that dialects even existed. But as I grew older my experiences built how I spoke and I truly began to realize how complex something like being a native speaker of English can be.

I have a fully-grown massive Rottweiler named Mayson. When I first received my dog I had no idea that I was going to receive odd looks from people all over my neighborhood. I did not know that this tailless, lovable creature would soon grow to be my shadow of disapproval. To this day, they do not like looking at a five foot two female walking a 103 pound black bear-like dog half her size. Throughout the years, I have learned to cope with my so-called bloodthirsty dog by taking her out for walks when there are no sounds of children, strollers, or skateboards. I walk her late because I do not like to receive dirty looks from my neighbors for they do not trust my beast. My neighborhood once led me to believe the rumors about my black sheep because

Thirty- seven, the total number of minutes I walked to school at five in the morning on April 12, 2011. That night was the first time I called 911 for my mother. That night was the first time my younger sister and I found out our mother had stage III stomach cancer. I had no one to turn to, my father was abusive and I was never close with my relatives. Being the tender age of sixteen, I was unable to process what was happening. I recall walking to school, so I could confide in my tenth grade English teacher. At a time where my world was upside down, ripped apart, and burned alive, Ms. Chu was my rock.

“I’m going to win this time,” I declared proudly, ignoring my sister’s snickering. With our balmy hands interlocked, my sister stared intensely into my eyes until the sudden moment when our arm wrestling competition began. I pushed with all my might, believing that I could achieve the impossible victory. However, not three seconds after we started, my sister slammed my hand against the table. Forced to accept defeat once again, I wondered if I should ever expect differently fighting against an older sibling.

I lived in Mckinney my whole life and thought everything was falling into place the way I wanted it. I had the best of friends, the perfect house, which held all my childhood memories, and enjoyed the school I went to everyday. Just as I thought my life in Mckinney would last longer, my parents shared the news that we would be moving to Prosper. At this point I thought that everything I had planned and expected my life to be was ruined. Even though Prosper is right down the street from Mckinney, I would no longer live in the house I grew up in and not share my high school experience with my best friends I’ve known since kindergarten.

In my sixteen years of existence, I’ve had plenty of fun, exciting high points where I feel like nothing in the world can drag me down. However, along with those amazing times, my worst ones were always to eventually follow, like it did my sophomore year when I had a choir performance in Visalia with some of my favorite friends and amazing teacher. It was most definitely a high for me. A little over twenty-four hours after, I had fallen off the roller coaster that was my happiness and hit the concrete.

In this picture i have picked is of my mom and sister and I. Im going to start with me, ever since I was little I never knew my dad im hoping to soon met my dad when I turn 18. I have always lived with my mom. Living as in jumping around from house to house. We went to marysville kansas for my junior year just for my junior year and the summer, some how newton is the place we end back up in. Now i'm a senior here in newton. We have lived in several different place I have lived out of state 2 twice, Texas and Missouri. My mom and sister are the closest people to me. If you get me around my sister, you never think she is my sister. My mom is the hardest mom ever. She has been through so much but still attempts to keep food in my stomach and