Personal Narrative: My Childhood Experience With Rad

Soon after moving to the storage unit, my doctor diagnosed me with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). I felt intense anxiety and panic attacks because of the political persecution, financial status, bullying, and struggle with my sexual orientation. Throughout this ordeal, I denied my identity as a lesbian and hid it from my mother to not place more burdens on her during our transition to the U.S. I resorted to my Catholic faith to overcome my adversities, while suicidal thoughts plagued me. Eventually, my mother sold her business for less than the appraised value in September 2010. After relocating to a small apartment in 2011, our obstacles reduced. Nevertheless, I received devastating news of a friend’s assassination in Venezuela on

Day four of clinicals was really long. The first patient was scheduled from 8 until 1, he was getting fitted for 4 crowns and an implant crown. When the patient came in he had a horrible odor and looked like he hasn’t taken care of himself in months. I seated him down and the dental assistant just glanced at his teeth and looked at me strangely and whispered come here and look. I look in this old man’s mouth and saw nothing but a brown layer of plaque and calculus build up and it disgusted me. How could someone not take care of their selves? Anyways, we ended up sending him to the hygienist's room next to us and they cleaned his teeth extra good. He came back into the room and Dr. Williams came in and quickly did a check up on his teeth and

To feel closer to him, his family and friends started to gather together to do activities he enjoyed. As part of this I got to experience many things I would likely have never done before, such as going 'mudding'. Which, from what I gathered, is basically running through the mud in various types of vehicles pretending you are in the car chase of a movie. I was also convinced to fire a shotgun for the first time. I cannot help but feel if he were there he would have been slightly disappointed I was not knocked over from the kick, as that would have been his type of

I was diagnosed with Autism when I was 2 years old and it has affected my entire life more than anything else I have experienced. It has impacted the way I socialize and communicate with people, the way I think and understand the world,and it also affected my speech and development when I was younger. Autism also affects the way other people see me and I’m often misunderstood. I don’t remember everything about my life at that time, but I do know that I struggled a lot to get to where I am today. I’m also aware that it will impact my future and force me to work harder than my peers. Even though I have Autism, I will always know that it doesn’t define who I am and that I will improve no matter what.

Cancer has played a huge role in my life recently. It started when dad was diagnosed with prostate cancer when I was a junior in high school. He tried to remain strong and act like he wasn’t scared, but you could tell he was terrified and depressed. On a few occasions I went with him to his radiation treatments and I was immediately impressed with the radiation therapists. They were always smiling, and trying to make the worst time of some people’s life better. When my dad talks about his cancer experience he always talks about how much of a positive impact his radiation therapist had.

I am very interested in working for COMPANY during the winter work term, and have attached my resume and application for the position BLANK within DEPARTMENT.

I'm four year veteran of the severer. I have no strikes or brokc a sever rule . I won't to help the sever, by helping blufor to ruleve some of the schres. I whont to eperints more with the sever and blufor. I feel like there need to be more trainers cuz when they ferst join the blufor nat gars is the ferst thing they are in and that's a lot pepul. I jest whud like to help not only me but other pepul so that they also have the best eperinys on the sever . When i git the positon i'm a very good and fer pepuls person and ruspectfull .

I am Ripply, the people call me a goat, but they are wrong. I am a dog, I am for sure a dog. I am the third biggest animal here and the two horses are the biggest, Sweetness and Lexi. I was just starting to miss Daisy's bark and was a little sad that day. I was laying on my ramp, the ramp is like my only safe haven. And the man's big machine pulled up after two whole days away. The machine smelt funky so I got off of my ramp and followed the machine. The man's son hopped out first and said “Scoot back Ripply!” so I moved away from the door. The man was leaning into the back of the seat and started talking. His door flew open and a huge animal tried jumping out, I ba’ad and took off towards my ramp. The other dogs were surrounding the new animal blocking my view to see was it was, the people led the animal into the house and I didn’t hear anything about it until next morning.

The person who was the most influential being in my life has been Sgt. Yost. He let me know he cared, he made me understand my sense of worth as a student, and showed me what i was capable of academically. To provide someone with the same experience i received in education would be an everlasting experience. The opportunity to give back to my community, alongside my credentials in leadership based programs influence me to ignite an evergreen passion in the hearts of those in my community

The sharp scratch of pencil lead sprinting across thick layers of paper, rapid rustles of flipping pages, and the neurotic tapping of pens on hard wooden desk surfaces are sounds that I grew very accustomed to during my junior year of high school. I was taking a class called Clinical Rotations, which allowed me to rotate through different units at two major San Antonio hospitals. Being constantly surrounded by illness, chaos, and frigid sterility wore heavily on my angst-ridden, seventeen year old self. But despite the stressful surroundings and slightly depressing aura, it was during these rotations that I met someone who truly changed my life.

“Hey, J! You did some good passes at practice today. If you do that in the game, they’ll call you the next Lonzo,” my coach yelled

Salt water droplets tickling my cheeks as they make their way down to my empty heart. I always knew something was off about me, but I didn’t know exactly what it was. That is until fourth grade when I found out that I had been diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, ADHD for short. At first I didn’t want to accept that I had something wrong with me, even though it’s always been there. I would read a short passage fluently, but as soon as one of my teachers asked me what I just read, I totally forgot. You hear people being diagnosed with ADHD every year, and you may not think that it's a big deal, but when a disorder like this affects the way you learn and comprehend things, it turns into one.

My long list of achievements have only been efforts to prove to myself that I'm not a wimp. My moments of greatest shame have been when I've been overpowered by others or my own neediness. Or when I've let my someone down. Little things would happen that would leave this "professionally respected, well educated" woman collapsed sobbing, shaking, and cowering in a corner. I would emerge disoriented, emotionally spent, confused about the intensity of my feelings and really, really ashamed. Why does this happen? I've had plenty of therapy. Maybe I flunked therapy. I always felt like such a fraud because people would comment on my strength. Was I really, deep down, crazy? I now know that I was having flashbacks, from PTSD. I now recognize them and that does help. I understand what happens and that provides some logic to the experience, and that makes me feel less crazy. It does not, however, make the flashbacks feel less random. I have chronic PTSD, which means it's not going away. I'll get better at learning to manage it and live with it. But my mind can be yanked back to that hellhole at any moment. That fear is a part of my days, my nights, myself.

Simultaneously, I never had the chance to learn the sole fluent language my father knew, Bengali, and for this reason, as a child, I never had that “intimate conversation” with my father. I too mentioned only “small, obvious things” and “tried to make our conversation seem like more than an interview”, but because there was really nothing else to talk about with my father, I wasn’t able to develop a bond or that father-daughter connection with him that families normally have. As school took up most of my time, my father and I never really had the time to have a heart to heart conversation to catch up on what’s been going on with each other’s lives. Fortunately, my story is not as melancholic as Rodriguez’s because my father put an effort into getting used to the ways and culture of America where he tried to keep at least some form of relationship with me. Even though we speak in our own language (he speaking in Bengali and I in English) when communicating with each other, my father found a way not to alienate himself from his children. As for Rodriguez, it’s quite a depressing story, where he had that passionate relationship with his mother once in the past which was eventually overshadowed by “silence”.

Included herein is what you could loosely call a summation of the consequences I’d experience if my entreaty is rejected. This may also provide clarification for the events in 1971; as well as some filler, explaining just how I got here at this point in my life.