Personal Narrative: Coping With Divorce

I was depressed, really depressed, but at a certain point I decided Fuck it, I

It felt a little like I was back outside again, my lava tears streaking down my cheeks, making my tear ducts sting. The room closed in on me and my eyes scanned the space from left to right, spinning and dancing across my mother’s concerned look. I can’t say I was angry, that I felt some predictable rage or crippling sadness. I just felt numb, untouched and untouchable. It was as if I was floating in the air, accompanied by the words my father just spoke, chasing each other around in some chaotic tornado, and yet everything around me was still. There was no feeling really, just reaching and grasping for something to be different, failing to comprehend.

In the seventh grade my parents decided to get a divorce, it had a very negative effect on my family. Being in middle school the situation was very confusing and vague. I thought to myself how annoying it’s going to be switching houses every week and having double the thanksgivings, christmases, easters,etc. Also having

I can remember the gut wrenching feeling that overwhelmed my entire body the moment my parents broke the news to both my sisters and me. I sensed a lump in my throat and was unable to swallow, and tears that filled my eyes right before they streamed down my face. My cheeks were feverishly red as anger overcame my body. I could not accept that my parents were going to be getting a divorce.

As a result, my grades went downhill and I had a hard time dealing with my emotions. Halfway through my sophomore year, I realized that I was the one person in my life that did not have to be affected by the divorce. I picked up my grades, improved my study habits, and began to enjoy high school more. I learned how hard it is to run a household. My dad worked long hours and traveled most of the month, and I had to step in and become the new “mom”. After school each day, I make sure that Tim’s homework is done, I help to prepare dinner, and I brave the cold New England weather to walk our dog, Bailey in the morning and late at night so that my dad can rest after coming home from a long day of work.

I pulled myself together and set my face like flint. Regardless of the past or future I had learned happiness in not a place to arrive at, but rather how I daily lived my life. Even though I was in relentless pain and surgeries were being scheduled, I was going to be happy. That was a choice.

The self depression and hatred I put upon myself continued months and months after my experience of two cheer seasons. It was like a disease with no cure. It got to such a low point in my life that the only solution the therapists and my family could come up with was professional help: a psych ward. I look back at that year and reflect on the emotional and physical scars from what life brought to me, primarily myself, and cannot help but feel satisfied with myself. About a year later I can accept the fact that I failed at knowing what truly mattered to me and how I should treat myself with love and empathy for myself and others. However, I am able to take the time of day to think back upon on how my dark days are now filled with compassion and hope for a future that does not involve fighting to be

Being surrounded by love and care is one of the most valuable pieces to living. Thousands of people, like myself, live most of their life without a caring family. Other people lose their family by either death or by simply being rejected. My biological parents never cared for me nor my siblings. When I was sixteen, I lost my mother. The mother who adopted me yet loved me. I lost her to a vicious disease known as cancer. When she was alive, I remember dreading coming home and hearing her nag. After losing her, I instantly forgot what I had. I immediately regretted having that attitude towards her. I should have brought that cup of coffee she wanted in bed. I should have listened to her when she spoke. More than anything, I wished I could have been there for her more. I wish I could take back so many things and appreciate what I had. She was my family. The first and last person I called

At initial, I did not comprehend the meaning of a divorce. For me a divorce meant that my dad was going to take vacations, however, come back to the house once he finished his vacations; little did I know that it was not like that. It meant that he would no longer live with us. At first, it was hard to get used to living in two different homes

As a young boy, my parents decided it was best for the family if they got a divorce. At the time, divorce was not in my vocabulary, meaning I brushed it off as it nothing. It was nothing until shelly, my biological mother, turned it into something. Something that has taught me many values, values that will continue to make me push forward.

The most paramount challenge I have had to face in education and every facet of my life has been the divorce of my parents when I was in the 3rd grade. Overcoming the emotional chains of the event has been in an oxymoronic fashion extremely simple, and the hardest thing to do in the world. After about half a year of feeling like Atlas with the earth on my shoulders, a decision had to be made. I choose to continue on with my life, but also improve every aspect of it. My grades skyrocketed, I became extremely social, and overall I was much happier. A simple decision, but one that led me to where I am today. It is terribly unfortunate that too many people in my situation would simply give up, look at proverbial “bare wall” and proclaim, “I can’t

To be honest, if I had known all this, known that it would end this way, I wouldn’t have changed anything. Not one tiny detail no matter how insignificant it

It seemed as though we were just a big, happy, and growing family, my sister had just gotten married and had two beautiful daughters. The girls were the most precious things I 've ever seen in my life, one was four years old and the other had just turned two. My sister and brother-in-law seemed to have a pretty decent and happy marriage, when before we all knew it their marriage was on the rocks and divorce was being talked about. Before too long my brother-in-law had moved out of the house and left my sister to take care of the two kids, work, and try to finish college. It all became too much for her and she lost control, she started to not take care of the kids properly, lost her job, and was abusing her prescription medicines.

One potential limitation of this study is self-selection bias. Our participants might have achieved better resolution with their feelings following their divorce or be more agreeable and talkative in general. Thus, our study findings may not cover the experiences of gray divorce for people who are still struggling to make sense of their divorces or are too bitter to discuss their past relationships. Some individuals participated because they anticipated the therapeutic benefit in talking through their divorce experiences with an unbiased third party—the interviewer. Another limitation of this study is that we recruited our sample from the participant pool of an Internet-based quantitative study on gray divorce. Thus, we missed out on the perspective

I was trying so hard not to let my family or friends know what I was going through. I pretended to be happy any time they were around. They began to see a slight change in me,