Personal Narrative: Beyond Recovery

The state of resiliency is the competence to recover quickly from difficulties; resilient individuals are efficient in avoiding anguish. In the past I have encountered multiple situations where there was no option but to be resilient. At a young age I experienced homelessness. My mother could not pay the bills in the apartment, so we were evicted. Imagine being led astray not knowing when the struggling times were going to end and then having to undertake school. That was a very arduous time for me being that I was only a freshman. Living in that position was not a thrill; we wondered from place to place like drifters. The steadiest time period was when my family and I slept on my mom’s coworker’s living room floor that lasted about 8 months. Because of this financial depression

When I was a child, I moved around quite a bit. It became hard to get attached to places because we were never assured that the sacred spots would be ours for much longer. As I got older, however, I have realized that special places do not have to be dictated by a length of time, and allowing myself to fall in love with a place gave me the roots I had been searching for. While I have not lived in Indiana for several years now, there is something about this certain cluster of trees in Indiana that remain special to me. When I was a child, I saw them as the gateway into Narnia, and during the winter snows I would bundle up in my cheap fur coat my mother bought at a consignment shop and run outside searching for Mr. Tumnus and calling myself Lucy. My imagination gave me the ability to bring the characters I loved so dearly to life. This experience has shown me that providing children with the ability to use their imagination not only provides entertainment, but also allows children to have a safe outlet to cope with traumatic situations, make

Well this year was a hell of a year. I mean, i didn't pass any of the semesters but i did observe a ton of stuff that went on in the class. The class in general was pretty lit. Every day went by and i honestly did some work. The class was ready to learn as mrs g was ready to teach. I mean yea we had some days were we didn't want to learn anything and there were also days when mrs g didn't want to teach. But ima be honest, doing the work we did wasn't in my best interest. Most of the projects we did in class i worked on, but at the end i didn't end up liking how i did it so i wouldn't even bother turning anything in. like the obituary we had to write about ourselves. I liked the meaning behind this but honestly i didn't want to work on that because it just brought back memories of my friends that were killed.

I quickly swallowed my homemade authentic Indian food leftovers and gulped down my chocolate milk. Looking down at my watch that read 11:28am, I knew that I only had two minutes until my most favorite part of the day: recess. This particular day in 5th grade, I had run a lap around the playground before getting the rest of recess to myself. As I started walking for my warmup, another student ran up and said, “My parents said that your people caused 9/11.” Completely caught off guard, I held back the tears in my eyes and tried to shake off his comment. I had never encountered something like this.

Based on having three courses, a practicum, and an intensive this summer, I was prone to experiencing burnout during the summer of 2017. If I suffer from burnout while participating at the Naaman Center, it can affect my educational involvement and influence me to not be aware of the information that is being shared amongst the clients in group/individual counseling. Nevertheless, since I would be showing signs of fatigue, I would be avoidant of approaching my supervisor about important information this is required for my counseling education and theoretical/therapeutic approach. At the start of the summer, I believed since I had the summers off, I could handle three courses, a practicum, and intensive. Certainly, there were weeks where I

am beset {long pause} How long will I let the pain and loss define my life? An enduring struggle of loss and gain A monumental achievement through the tangles of deeds But is left alone with silent words

It's hard to stay out of it when you already in it. Enduring the pain you feel for others, while they don't know it yet. I see through the lies around me and through their fake smiles. I wish I could ask them why they are smiling when they're not happy. What made me stronger was a friend who tried to change my mind to their side of the story. While we both know, you were in the wrong, but still trying to make me think the same way as she does.The lies they told me when I know the truth, and for her to still try to convince me otherwise. When I know my friend is in pain, but hide it with a smile, showing me her real self to me, but for me to do nothing to help her. Knowing that if I said something to the source of her pain, I could just make

I have been in recovery now for about five years because of my drug and alcohol dependency. I started doing drugs in middle school and kept appearances up until my senior year of high school. My senior year of high school I stopped dancing and other positive activities. I believe that being a part of activities kept my drug use at bay until it took over my life. Some positive factors in my life that helped me not use every day were self-control and teacher monitoring. Also, I kept busy so I could stay on track for the most part. The risk factors for me using drugs and alcohol are having a hard time expressing emotions in a healthy way. I was unable to delay gratification and using drugs so young made it hard for me to mature like the rest of

Anytime I revisit the memory, I tend to review multiple different times throughout the course of the injury and recovery process. I first come to the exact moment the injury occurred. The estactic joy I was feeling as I reached the 18 yard line box on my opponents side of the field, knowing that it was just me against the same girl I had beaten and scored on during the previous possession, quickly dissipated once I made a spinning move and the girl rammed into me from behind. Almost suddenly, the joy was replaced with confusion. For an injury this severe, people assume that the first thing one feels after tearing a ligament is pain, but in my experience, they are wrong. Rather, one feels time almost stop around them. The sounds surrounding them seem to increase in volume as well.

During my clinical experience today, it was filled with knowledge and a bit of sadness. This morning I got paired with Nurse Rachel, she was ready to go about her day and so was I, when we do rounds with the previous nurse we both notices a patient crying and very upset to the room across from us. As we enter the room to see what was going on she told us to go away. The nurse that was there that night told us she was very demanding and cried for everything. Rachel told me after she gets the report from the previous nurse, we would go in that room first. As we enter the room once again Rachel introduced herself and as did I, the patient say she was in extreme pain and no one had given her medication. As the day when I researched her history

I come from a developing Country myself, which always required for growing the Country. My Family are already refugees from Isreal. I have worked in the seconed biggest refugee camp in the world ( Zaatri Refugee Camp in Jordan since it started chronichally with the syrian crisis with Morethanshelters , teir tents and move their tents and they were reseilent enough to come up with a way to help them carry on with this hardship life and live in a Caravan or a makeshift camp in Jordan. I am an advior for Urbancore which is a Danish start up that Goal is to help refugees and less foutunates to build up their living. We work with archaticts to find the best ways to establish a difnity of living through our Project that will be in Jordan. I am applying

Waking up in the morning going to school was a normal everyday thing, just a normal day of life for a 7th grader. I finally arrived home; it was confusing seeing my dad’s car home. It was silent you could hear a pen hit the floor. I go up stairs to see my dad past out on the floor. I froze, and I run towards my dad hoping he was sleeping. When I’m sitting in front of him his breathing was shallow. I try to wake him up, but at first he does not move and then I see his eyes open. I scramble, and try to find my phone to call the police. The lady on the phone ask many so questions in such a short period I could think of the words to answer. After I hang up there is another long silence. Then I hear a siren getting louder and louder as it pulls

Waking up, knowing the day was going to be the same, Elizabeth or Liz for short, was ready to go to school. Doing the same routines every day of school: waking up at 8:15, take a 10 minute shower, get dressed up, brush her teeth, do her hair, eat breakfast, walk out of her apartment, drive to school, and hang out with her friends until the bell rang at 9:15. Liz started the second semester in 11th grade, but now she has been in school for 2 months.

I have had a long, drawn-out pain in my life. It’s been festering like a hidden sliver in my thumb. I prefer not to touch it. No matter how much I try to ignore it, the swelling ache continues to annoy me. A broken relationship that refuses to mend in isolation. My offender chose to part ways without reconciliation and now the thought of contacting this person fills me with anxiety. The anxiety of rejection, a fear of what they might say, a concern on what the Holy Spirit might ask of me. I have spent much of the passing years frustrated at the person, reliving the painful acts and words that spewed from their mouth.

The game was already over and the only thing our team was shooting for now was personal stats. I knew this but personally I never wanted me or any of my teammates to lose hope. Although unlikely to comeback, anything is possible. We just kept playing, hoping to break something loose and steal the momentum from the other team. I have only touched the ball a handful of times, due to poor weather conditions, when Stanley finally calls my name from the pressbox. I was calm and ready to boost my stats and I felt as if I had nothing to lose. Already lost the game and we already missed our chance in the playoffs, so why not shoot for personal goals? This mindset was wrong, but it was the mindset many had at this point.