Personal Narrative-Home

That's right. You can allow yourself to let go now... really let go and go deeper and deeper

You are afraid you might forget, but you never will. You will forgive and remember. Think of that vine that curls from the small square plot that was once my heart. That is the only marker you need. Move on.

Life, as we all know is saturated with misfortune. Most of us are able to go through these and learn from and exempt ourselves. Yet, this isn’t always the case. People are faced with bone riveting experiences that often take a long time to get over, if they ever do get over it. These episodes brew in our brain popping up at the most random points often bringing our tone down. Although these experiences may scare us and fill us with ruefulness and penitence, we can’t continue to live in the past and let these regrets habituate us. Self forgiveness is a remedy to healing and to moving on in life, no matter how hard it is.

The irony of the whole situation is that you cannot ever forget the past you just really learn how to deal with it. You learn what was then is not what is now and you learned to move on with life know that from time to time you will have to deal with flashbacks of the past. “In my head my life was normal,” (126). But in his reality he knew there was something wrong.

Life happens and things happen that isn’t expected, but it always works out. There is really no way to turn back the clock in anything in life. There will be certain situations that you will forgive and forget, but in reality there will always be that thing that happened in the back of your head. We all have those things in life where we really wish that we could forget or maybe go back to and things be the same.

I pretend I'm good how to move on when I'm still scared you told me lies that you will always protect me but you used me.

I lolled around still thinking about the decision I had made. The vicissitudes were just piling up, on after another. The only things I heard were buildings crumble, guns being fired, and bombs dropping. I missed the sound of my car starting, I missed the sound of the music playing, but most of all, I missed the sound of my children laughing and playing. The kind of chastisement I was living through was just unbearable and I was ready to leave. No one was stabbing me, no one was shooting me, just thinking about what I have lost is the most painful thing. I heard gunshots getting closer. I needed to leave.

Dear Former Me, I know you feel this event is insurmountable, but you survived and it wasn’t your fault. Time will heal you I promise; in the meantime love your family, your friends and most importantly, remember to love yourself.

“I’m going to break you.” She said. “Every single bone in your body and once you recover, I’ll do it again if I have to.”

"More than anything, I just want you to know that there is more than one person you can lean on. You may have someone up their who you are relying on, but you have two incrediably strong sons who would never wish to see their mother in pain like this. Whatever the outcome we finally get your boys will be strong for you and in return I'm sure you will be strong for them."[/b]

“Get over it! Don’t allow bitterness, resentment, and animosity to hold you back. God sees every wrong that has been done unto us. Likewise, He sees every wrong we have done unto others. Stop reliving the negative. We must forgive, in order that we are forgiven. Although we can’t change the past, we can position ourselves for a brighter future. It may be challenging to do, but the beauty it will give your heart is a remarkable feeling of comfort. Forgive and allow God to restore your serenity and flood your life with unspeakable joy.” - Debra S. Clark

Natasha sauntered over to stand behind him, looping her arms delicately around his neck, chin resting on the top of his head. "The important thing is that we're both fine, James. Let it go and quit beating yourself up about it, okay?"

How many times you’ve made me lonesome. Even when the often stained sky is but a hushed void, you still leave me to witness it alone; slouched on my wooden throne, strokes of blood softly flowing down these rosey cheeks. Shut up for me please. There’s far too much discourse to call this silence. Moths gather in my head, but in any case, it’s futile as they burn down in my dream, and after that, nothing’s left again. Shut up. I’d rather wake up to tomorrow's inadequate dawn.

My mind fogs up as I try to recall my doctor’s reassuring words. Memories begin to blur and blend in with each other as I try to reach out in this fog of darkness, attempting to grasp what is authentic and what is not. I need to reorganize and record my thoughts somewhere objective, somewhere I know is secure and wouldn’t be altered in any shape or form. I pick up a pencil that is placed in front of me and gradually begin to scrawl out my thoughts on a scrap piece of paper. As I progressively document every bit of detail of my memories, I begin to notice a faint murmur behind the frigid, white wall adjacent to me. I shrug it off and blindly assume that it is just my neighbours conversing with each other. Time

July 2nd. Leaving the house in the early morning with the sun barely shining as it is coming out from its hiding place behind the trees, my mother, Magvern (my brother), and I were taken to LA Greyhound station. Walking inside with our luggages tailing behind us, we see families clustering around the ticket and information desk. With our already printed tickets in hand, we walk toward the baggage check before entering the waiting station for the bus. As we wait for our departure, my brother took out his phone and my mom starts to crochet while I am left to my demise. Out of boredom, I start to text my cousins; however, no was awake yet. Staring at the blank screen it felt like hours were passing by. Finally, I saw an icon flashing, Lily was on! The moment did not last