Personal Narrative: If You Do Not Drink

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 would like to say I’m sorry to you for my behavior on Friday evening; however, I am worried about you and it upsets me that you keep drinking.

On November 16, I received the notice from U.S Equal Employment Opportunity Commission District Office, Phoenix.

Everyday I make tons of choices, but recently I made one I am very proud of. I was at a get together with a bunch of my friends, and we all decided it was time to go home. I had rode with a friend to the party, but that friend had been drinking alcohol throughout the evening. I knew better than to get in a car with someone who had drank too much, but I still had my free will to ride with that friend or to call for a different ride. I decided to call my mom and have her pick me up. I even tried to convince my friend to let my mom take her home, as well. My convincing did not work. My friend drove herself home and ended up hitting a rode sign. She was not hurt, but I feel like I deserve a lot of credit for the good outcomes. I could

I started dating a boy my senior year of high school that was two years younger than me. He had been known to throw parties with his older sister and get drunk almost every weekend, but he was genuine and kind to me, so I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Throughout our entire relationship he gave up drinking because he knew that I did not approve. However, we got into a fight one night and he decided to go out with his friends to blow off some steam without telling me. That night, he got black out drunk and started drunk texting me about how horrible I was to try to restrict him from living his life and having fun with his friends. I broke up with him the next day because I could not see the relationship continuing on after such hateful words had been exchanged and the differing views we had on what was considered fun.

I too wrote about getting Ben enrolled into vocational school because having a job would be the best for his life. I like how you added on the idea of it creating responsibility and accountability. However I would like to ask why you didn't decide to put Ben through some sort of treatment or preventative program involving alcohol. While yes he may not have a trouble with alcohol, his crime is heavily involved with it and he very well could re-offend doing a similar crime. I feel that by him using his story to talk to people going through alcohol treatment he can make a big difference on their lives and might help prevent the crime with those individuals. As discussed by rehabs.com (2016), a strong peer support is crucial for the

From the time I entered freshman year in high school I knew my mother had a problem. Picking your drunken mother up off the floor on a Wednesday night is not normal; other teenagers don't do that. How do you tell your mother you need her to stop drinking? I wanted to tell the woman who gave me life that I did not feel comfortable in her home.

I had depleted quite a bit of my funds by now, yet my will to continue drinking had not at all depreciated. I called for another taxi in an effort to find a store that sale liquor this hour of the night. This time, my driver wasn't so friendly and neither were the residents surrounding the store he dropped me off by. Though I thought I was being on high alert, they managed to loot $50 from my back pocket and steal my cell phone. Pissed off as I was, even that wasn't enough to keep me from going forward as planned. Just when it seemed illogical that things could get any worse, I eventually drank until I blacked out and was left clueless to where I was. When I came to, I thought I was back in the hotel room. To my dismay, I managed to

Several drinks later the frustrations that had been coursing throughout my veins had ceased and were replaced with a sense of tranquility. The dispute between Audrina and me had been forcefully driven to the back of my conscience mind. I could vaguely hear the low hums from the granite countertop, but I was trying with every ounce of strength to remove the agitation from my ears. Audrina was fuming at the ears; she was in no mood to talk kindly to or about me at this point. I had never fully grasped her concept or hatred towards my drinking; I just knew she incandescently angered by it. Any chance she got the chance she would ramble with no end about the ‘negative repercussions’ that I would have to face. She would always go on about how my addiction had no benefactors for my body or my mind. She would always have this small crease that

At September 14th me and my car plummet to the ocean while i’m there justing waking up from a nap i took while driving scared and confused alcoholic on his way to his death. But before we talk about how if I escaped that situation let’s go back a few hours before all this happened. So there i was at a local party celebrating with me and my designated driver. I was drinking and dancing with some other funny people. I don’t like to admit it but i’m an alcoholic who obviously is addicted to alcohol but at this point i feel like i’ve drank every beer there is to man.

“Please tell me you’re not talking about the alcoholic,” Rowan made an exaggerated expression of disgust. “That poor man had more issue than strange forms of male pattern baldness.” She waded to a shallower part of the river and followed after them, dragging one of the baskets after her. There was a smaller rock near the one they settled on and she perched herself on it, continuing her scrubbing. "It's started to become his go-to course of action when he's upset with me. You know he started that up again,right? Apparently he's found another one.“ She purposefully bypassed her other comments. It was too early for that type of conversation. With a sigh she gave Bessie an apologetic glance. “I think it has something to do with that client that

Before we got in the line we had these people buy us alcohol but we are running low and sobering up and it's only about five at this point and the show didn't start for another six hours. We ask a couple of people to buy us alcohol but it wasn't the right moment. We ask this boy who looked well under our age to buy us alcohol. Just by his appearance, his skinny, long torso and long legs and neon green shirt make him look like a highschooler. “But, he has the bright orange wristband that says 21” I say. Wendy goes over to asks him and he says yes and she gives him the money. After a couple of minutes Wendy and I start watching and noticing they were talking. “It looks like they are just going to take the money and run.” “They aren't even getting in the line to buy the beer.”

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.

Keeping her head covered, Louise whined, “Oh, Mike, I have a big problem and don t know what to do.” Wanting to tell him about hitting the dog, but she was afraid of what he would say.