Personal Narrative: How Does Her Brain Work

One of the biggest transitions of my life was when I moved off to college. At home I have a very stable and supportive family system. They knew me better than anyone else and they held me accountable. I was not scared to move out and go away to college, I was more curious to see what this chapter of my life would bring. Getting away from the comfort of my family really made me take some time to focus on myself. This may attention assignment only furthered this journey of becoming more self aware.

The stone was cold and I could feel the pain swelling up inside. I took a step towards the edge, I thought to myself, “One more step and the worries would end…” if only it was that easy.

I woke up and took one bite out of my pop tart but that one bite was all I could eat. My legs were shaking, and my heart was pounding. My dad told me, “It is a true honor to even make it this far so go out there and have some fun.” Once I heard this statement, I knew I was ready to go. I arrived at school and boarded the bus. The car ride was an hour and fifteen minutes of hearing the squeaking of the wheel on the bus. My teammates were getting their heads ready for the big game.

After our class discussion and listening to both sides, my opinion has just been confirmed. People tried talking about how we don’t know exactly the true story because we never heard it threw her voice, but through evidence with the way she acted when she pulled him closer in on page 234 and how the doctor said “She struggles with finding the right words sometimes, and that will likely persist. Her short-term memory is erratic at best. Her emotional affect is flat, which may or may not change” on page 105. Nothing about long-term memory and since Maribel was the popular girl before she was injured and all the girls wanted her! So thinking about when I had the sex talk with my parents and realizing how beautiful and wanted she was that her parents

The brain-dead seldom seem like they’re dead. The rise and fall of their chests is so convincing, the ventilator seems like an ornament rather than the single source of oxygen that keeps their hearts beating. Their skin is warm to the touch, and condensation clings to the inside of the catheter from the fresh streams of body-temperature urine. Despite how peaceful they look, their bodies are undergoing progressive autolysis, utter and massive self-destruction. Without the helm of consciousness, my father and all of the patients in his section of the intensive care unit seemed adrift in a tiny boat on a wild, infinite sea – yet unconcerned about finding their way back to

Growing up I never understood why I acted and looked the way I did. By the age of ten I realized that I was different, I did not look like my parents and I did not act like them. Yes, there were some similarities but overall I was the complete opposite. Remembering back to sophomore year I was sitting in my Biology class, learning about genetics. My mom and dad have piercing blue eyes and dark brown hair, while I had more of a green color in my eyes and red-brown hair. I learned about recessive traits and later that day I went home and researched more. As I researched I found out about a non threatening disease called heterochromia iridium, which is where your irises are different colored. From that point forward I realized that I loved genetics.

I have a niece named Bella who is ten months old, and watching her is amazing. She’s funny and intuitive and is really good at conveying what she needs. When I think about her cognitive development I am impressed because she doesn’t have a lot of opportunities for stimulation and the sorts of things I know my parents provided for my development. My sister and her boyfriend and barely scraping by and are constantly busy with other things, but Bella seems like she’s doing so well. I wonder if she would be a good candidate for a nature verses nurture debate… her parents both seem quiet smart so perhaps her genes play into her abilities as much as her drab surroundings. Bella, or as my sister calls Opossum because of her pretending to be asleep

Changing the way she view things was my first approach and to think positive in what life has to offer. Also by developing a support system amongst friends and family and building up the social support. Three months had passed from our previous session she still has not driven or gotten near a freeway since the accident. She still fears the event can happened again. She drop out drop all her classes from the spring semester and her winter grades were not her best. She worried constantly and never came out outside her home only for therapy. Her friend was not constantly going to visit her because she has become aggressive and was constantly angry.

It’s really hard to try and be a normal, functioning person when you’re constantly reminded of something that happened years ago. It’s hard to even try to make sense of it when your brain blocks out things it doesn’t understand. Did I consent? I don’t think so. Did I say no? I don’t remember. I felt like I said no. I don’t remember. I felt like he pressured me. It didn’t feel good. It hurt. Sometimes I can still feel it happening, which is hard to try and hide when you’re in public and you can feel the pressure of someone who was once there.

When reading through the points listed in the article, I found myself connecting to all them. Some I found to be more of a weakness than others, but all the same, they were relatable.

Right before July 4th it was one of the best memories with my family. It was a nice day and their was a breeze that I felt on my skin and the sound that made me feel calm. We were all laughing and everyone has a smile on their face. I was with my mom, dad, sister , and my godbrother. That day we went to Water Tower in downtown Chicago and went to my favorite store called Marbles The Brain Store. They have cool games and gadgets. After that we went to get food from food life and I had a really good pizza. It smelled like a freshly baked out the oven and when you bite into it cheese started to ooze out of the good pizza. It tastes really cheesy and the bread was baked just right.

There is a path laid out in front of me, made of individually carved out stones. All I know is, at the edge, lies the unknown. Embarking on this path means I will plunge headfirst, all in attempt to answer a simple question. But before I can begin, how did I start?

--The brain is wider than the sky*-- This was my problem ever since I was 5. As a child, growing up in a crippled country that was constantly reeling from new disasters it was difficult for my mind to tap into its creative impulses. Haiti— a nation that is strained in dealing with political issues, natural, and fabricated disasters became the first to add destabilizing images to my volatile brain. I was just a mere little girl when my world came tumbling down after hearing the first gunshots that struck the side of my house. Despite my mother’s efforts to shield me from unpleasant events; I was traumatized by the replaying images of former soldiers that returned as rebels to topple the government roamed our street with heavy machine guns and

Throughout my life and career, I have prided myself on looking at all the angles, listening with intent to comprehend verses respond, and proving thought provoking advice that challenges individuals to use their mind when dealing with any situations. Until recently, I was unaware there was a concept to describe that approach. This concept is known as Intellectual Stimulation and is my current leadership style. According to Noncommissioned Officer Academy Distance Learning Course 15, intellectual stimulation occurs when a leader values their subordinates’ rationality and intellect, seeking different perspective and considering opposing points of view. Now that I have an understanding of the concept, I can build on that foundation to develop personally and professionally while improving my relationships with my subordinates, peers, and supervisors. My plan for developing my personal leadership tools will require the use of a three to five year plan to maximize effectiveness.

The walk up to the evil building was nerve racking, knowing there was no way out of it this time. Even if I were to try to back out the next try would be worse. As the structure became clearer, it dawned on me that there was no turning back after that point. As I came closer it felt like I was an outlaw walking to the chopping block. There were other before me, but my time eventually came. As the sick men who get paid to do this horrible thing strapped me in, they stated some guide lines that nobody ever listens to. Then just like that we were off, the machine started up the railing my gut wrenched as if I was headed to my doom. We started to turn, and then it came in sight, my heart stopped. We roared down the tracks and around towards an