Personal Narrative: Drinking And Leaving Home

Growing up, I dealt with a mother who struggled with addiction; to be unambiguous, she was an alcoholic. She drowned in her alcoholism as it pulled her down an alarming road. She was dreadfully depressed and believed that alcohol was the only way to make her feel better, addiction blinded her from what a great life she could have ahead of her. Not a single member of our family knew how to help her comprehend how much happier she would be if she could stop drinking her sorrows away. When it came to family events, my mom would try to conform to how others were acting and act “sober” even though she was already countless drinks deep in to drinking. Nevertheless, my mother just wanted others to like her which would lead her to change her outward

My relationship with drugs first began during my senior year of high school. While most of my peers attended their first parties years earlier, my first was not until I was already 17 years old. I still remember feeling so cool for attending my first party and having my first sip of alcohol. The feeling of being drunk was unlike anything I had ever felt before. I felt liberated, like I could break out of my quiet shell and be that fun, goofy person that everyone wanted to hang out with. Prior to this night I had never used any type of substance, legal or illegal. Since then I have continued using alcohol while also trying various different types of drugs including caffeine, marijuana, tobacco, and adderall.

I received my driver’s license a few weeks before I turned twenty. By that time, almost everybody I knew already had their driver’s license; in fact, most of them have been driving for years. When I tell my friends that I actually just got my license, the express shock and wonder at why it took me me so long to get it. The reason that it took so long for me to get my license is that the thought of driving makes me nervous. The night after I passed my permit test, I was filled with worries; I thought about everything that could go wrong with driving a car. What if I got into an accident? What if I accidentally break driving laws and the police gives me a ticket? What if I hit a dog? All these questions pushed my anxiety to the highest level and gave me zero confidence even before I officially started learning how to drive. I immediately pitied the people who were tasked to teach me how to drive. Those people ended up being my mother and father.

Tucked at the end of a long dirt road, framed with cacti, sat the low profile block building. Surrounded by a wire fence, I later learned it to be the men’s facility. My new home, the women’s quarters, sat in the open paved lot. “Phoenix Prison Camp,” read the sign. Joe opened the chicken wire embedded glass door and led us into the administration building. Dragging their feet, my kids accompanied us inside. We had few words to say. No one acknowledged us. We waited, huddled together on a wooden bench, our legs and hands crossed. Levi rubbed his face. I chewed my nails. Framed photos of Barack Obama and Eric Holder hung on the wall. Guards strolled past, ignoring us.

Myself and a few friends had plans to go to a party,

I have actually been trying for a while. I was taking some meds that made me gain like 5lb a month which was incredibly frustrating. But I'm off of those and finally back to loosing weight. I have actually finally cut out the two things things that I believe have been holding me back the most and that's; fast food, and alcohol. I tried to tell myself that eating chicken sandwiches from Wendy's or chicken soft tacos from taco bell was healthy. Obviously it isn't. I have actually started grilling all of my food (mainly chicken and some pork tenderloin) and not only do I feel better, but I enjoy grilling and it tastes much better. The alcohol thing is probably temporary but the amount of alcohol to get me feeling good is enough

I think that I shall attempt to be original on this topic. Just joking. The worst act of deviance that I have taken part in to my recollection was underage drinking. Before I start talking about this particular act of deviance I would like to say that it was a blast and I would gladly do it again. Also I did know this act was one of deviance, I believe most people know what they are doing when they break the law and I particularly did about this act. My parents and I had talked about underage drinking on several occasions and how there would be plenty of time later in my life to party and get drunk.

I need sleep,” my dad said, dismissing us when we got back to the house, sitting awkwardly on a sofa which had collapsed beneath his weight. His tracksuit bottoms caught up on his calf exposed the shocking white of his skin. I straightened the covers for him, plumping the cushions.

This time they decided to send me out of town to a program in Arizona. I arrived there on a Friday, however, the program wasn 't to commence until that Monday. There was no way I was going to check in and be on lockdown, knowing that I still had a weekend to play with. I checked into a hotel and prepared myself for, what I thought would turn out, a great time. I learned that things don 't always turn out as planned. I hit the town running at full speed seeking the first bar I could locate to get things kicked off. Before I knew it, I had gone from one bar to another, even catching taxis to get to and from them. When I made it back to the hotel room, I was pretty loaded and should have called it quits. But there 's another thing I

Hey, I’m Adam. When I was younger something happened, and it was scary. Now this had no affect on anyone except me. I was playing baseball and it was turn to bat. I stepped into the batter's box, took my stance, and awaited for the pitch. It was outside for ball one. The very next pitch hit me right above my left ear. Thank god i was wearing a helmet. When the pitch was coming I didn’t know what to do. I stood there frozen waiting for the pitch to hit me, and as soon as I did I knew that the choice that I just made was a terrible one. I went to first after the coaches checked me out and I looked fine. I stole second and then the inning ended and I was put on the bench even though I insisted I was fine. I didn’t know until the next day that

“Head inside and straight to the back where there will be a door, then knock three times and wait till they ask you the password,” the gangster who was waiting outside told my family. He was a taller young man who was there to usher people to the speak easy and keep the coppers away, because of the illegal selling of alcoholic drinks. Once we completed the instructions that we were given the opened the door for us and it seemed we had transported to Chicago of 1931.

My grandfathers from both sides of my family have struggled with being alcoholics. My family also worries about one of my uncles drinking too much too. To change this I would like to cut back on drinking dramatically, but not stop entirely. To help me do this I will plan for failure and have a reward system in place to encourage me to change my behavior. For every week that I don’t drink I can put ten dollars away and at the end of the month I can use the money on something I want. Also theirs going to be weekends when a band I performing or just want to go out with my friends. These will be the days I plan to fail and this is why I don’t plan to stop drinking entirely. If I do drink, the least amount I do is about 3 beers or 2 mixed drinks.

America has been battling drug and alcohol addiction for over a century. I personally have battled drug addiction for more than 7 years. I was considered a young and bright girl, with the world at her fingertips, only to wake up one day homeless and broken in an abandoned building wondering “how did I end up here?”. I had brief periods of self-controlled abstinence, but I always seemed to end up exactly where I was before, if not in a worse predicament. My addiction was insidious and perpetually lurking. Every day the behavior I engaged in increased my chance of overdose or contracting a deadly disease. Looking back, I almost welcomed death. My perspective was so bleak, I was so filled with shame, and my family had ceased all contact while

One day last year my dad and I were watching tv when the commercial for the mcgregor vs aldo fight came on, and i said mcgregor is gonna win, and he said you’re dreaming. So we argued for about thirty minutes until my Mom told us to be quiet.

I could not be more convinced that a meticulous probe into my past, would highlight an appalling union between my clashes with felicity, and my resistless passion for alcohol. Furthermore, I'm sure an identical abstract of my life, will expound on how the same passion played a critical role in my decision to relocate from New Orleans La., to Atlanta Ga. From what I was able to ascertain by way of reliable sources, such as my wife, is that my frontmost purpose for making such a precipitous decision, was to find support for the perilous conditions in which my life hovered into. Though I was unable to discern many of the uncivil practices I came to embrace, it was clear that most of the people who were familiar with my condition, were also