Personal Narrative Analysis

Welcome to my outlandish, yet in my opinion, amusing brain! The name presented to me upon birth is Taylor Lee Thompson. Currently, I am suffering through the struggles of junior year at Marion Senior High School. Difficult classes, early mornings, and extracurricular activities have made me an expert in the sport of juggling. The class that has appealed to me the most over the years is Criminal Justice. I found the behind the scenes instruction absolutely riveting! My instructor, Mrs. Hamm, kept me on my toes and I was always learning about crime, criminals, and cases. On the other hand, the class I utterly dread is history. Any and every type of history has always slowly bored me to sleep. I am convinced we are taught the same curriculum

Back when I still wore pigtails, I remember always feeling like an afterthought by my parents. I understood why, and it was justifiable. Since I was the eldest, and my younger brother was put on the autism spectrum, I knew I had to grow up extra quick, for Father always worked and Mother had her plate full, trying to raise us. I would do my chores without being asked and do my homework without needing help, just so Mother could have one less child to worry about. My brother, however, had to have everything done for him. He even needed Mother to brush his pearly whites for him. It was just one more duty to add to the infinite list of responsibilities Mother had to do for my brother.

For the first six years of my life, I was a content child who enjoyed the companionship of a younger brother and had little to no worries. Then one day in August, my family decided that it was time to move again. This time our destination was Keene Texas, a rather small city whose only notable feature was a modest Seventh Day Adventist University.

Extinction? No! As I see it, families could have been lost long ago with the severity in which one parented. Upon my father’s death, I had an enlightening conversation, with my Uncle Bill, about the abuse my father suffered at the hands of his father and mother. My Uncle, by marriage, shared the many torments my father experienced, and yet his siblings were untouched. My father married, had two children with my mom, and adopted me. He was a terrific father, with very few exceptions.

My wife and I drove to Colorado today for the Mother’s Day weekend. The sky is overcast and threatens to rain at any moment. On day such as this, I am reminded of our track meet day in elementary school. I grew up in a very small town and many schools in this area held a track meet on the last day of school. Nearly every year, the track meet took place on a day with similar weather conditions. It was just cool enough to keep comfortable as you ran, jumped, and played, but not too cold to ruin the day. Everyone loved the track meet since there were no classes and students were treated to a day of athletic competition. Each child participated in every event and ribbons were given out to the top 6 finishers. Participant ribbons were given to every child who did not place in the top positions.

Imagine having the christmas spirit Then breaking a bone! I broke my arm two years ago two weeks from christmas.

It was a dark spring night on campus. I was waiting for hours or though it seemed. It is not everyday that your roommates set you up with the best athlete on campus. It shocked me that my roommate could convince him that I was worth the best quarterback in the country’s time.

Furniture, valuables, and boxes are stacked all the way to the ceiling. By this time, I have been accustomed to the process of putting my valuables in a storage locker. I had to leave my house and stay with a friend of the family. From middle school to my sophomore year of high school, I lived in seven different places. Therefore, it was convenient to have a storage locker to keep my belongings in. It was comforting to know that my stuff would still be there when I found a permanent place to stay.

As you know, life is full of bumpy rides. This essay is about one of mine. This story is full of heat, fear, and pretty tight turns on the rails of life. Let me tell you of the time that our neighbor's house caught on fire.

Beep, beep, beep. This is the sound of an ECG monitor. The sound that fills a silent void as everyone waits with baited breath for the loved one lying in the bed to open their eyes. Unfortunately, this time the steady sound draws long and drones on and on. Then it hits you, the heart has stopped. Death is sudden and comes when we least expect; but then again, I don’t think you could anticipate if you tried. It can come to us many forms and so can the news of it. Grandma’s news comes in a phone call. I come home to an empty house that afternoon, nothing unusual. Awaiting the return of my mother, I went about my daily routine. Doing my homework, cleaning my room, and walking the dog; things I did everyday, but this time it was different.

In conclusion,it's difficult to find an effective solution for this issue,however it can be treated and managed in several ways such as , improving self confidence , healthy diet and using self-help . Surrounding oneself with individuals who understand what one is going through and are there to encourage and celebrate every step of the recovery can greatly boost the sufferer’s spirits. Eventually, when an individual’s success assists in encouraging other persons having anxiety disorders, it makes one to feel much better . Anxiety is the feeling of horror and panic that results from being tense about a particular situation in one's day to day activities . Fear and thinking of future are to major factors that make people anxious . In addition

In a series of unfortunate, clumsy events, I found myself walking home at three o’ clock

There are a few ways in which I have had to make adaptations in my daily life since coming to college. First, I have started setting multiple alarms before going to bed at night. When I still lived at home, my mom would always make sure I was awake in the mornings, so I never had to worry about getting up on my own. Since coming to college, I set a couple of different alarms every day, so I don’t oversleep and miss something important. Second, I have begun using headphones instead of letting things play out loud. I very rarely used headphones before, but the atmosphere here has required me to make this adaptation. Often times, my roommate is doing homework or I am in a loud environment, so in order to ensure that everyone can focus and I can

Many people ask me if the experience affected me in a negative way, I immediately said yes. Other people asked me if I would change this experience at all, I said no. This made me a stronger, wiser, more hardworking, more motivated, and a more independent person. I learned to never turn my back because people would stab it right away. I learned to keep my head up and strive to be a better person every single day. Eleanor Roosevelt once said “Do what you feel in your heart to be right- for you’ll be criticized anyways”. That is exactly what I did.

My background contains two adolescent years in the better neighborhoods of hydro electrically powered Zaporozhye, Ukraine, ten developmentally critical birthdays celebrated unceremoniously, while calling home an area in Sacramento known among locals as an actual antithesis to diversity, and a remaining lifetime enduring the tell-tale inevitable mishaps of time. Today, I house within me complex emotional ranges assiduously spattered along the spectrum of human expression, starkly vivid experiences collected through several once-in-a-lifetime moments, and, hopefully, a holistic identity deemed worthy by institutions purposed for passionate academic pursuits.