Personal Narrative: My Personal Experiences

Put the gun down! Put the gun down! Pow Pow Pow. The gun shots cracked into the air as loud as thunder. One after another. We live day by day not knowing our end. In the blink of an eye our lives can be changed forever. Its life, yet even in knowing this we never expect tragedy to find us. We never expect it to affect our lives and the people we know and love. I’m going to share with you the day tragedy found my life.

Finally, given some of my personal experiences, in addition to a failed marriage, divorce, victim and survivor of domestic violence, completing twenty years of military service, experiencing the impact of terrorists attacks in New York 9/11; on can hypothesize some people who share experience both personal and professional, can experience exposure to stressors. Next, I would like to mention that during military service, I was not exposed to support services and resources. Additionally, I felt ashamed about my situation, therefore I kept the abuse secret and away from family members. I also did everything in my power to keep my experience with domestic violence a secret from the military, because I was afraid of impact on my military career,

It was the “Summer of 2015” , actually the last day of summer for the Milton community and I was not excited, and when I say not excited I mean not excited. Mostly because It was my first year of sixth grade, I just wish I could go back to recess and getting snack time and all of that. Even though I don’t want to go I have my friends Vicky, Alexandra , Andrew and CJ to help me get through these years of middle school. Oh did I forget to introduce myself , I’m John Collins an average sixth grader just going to try to get through middle school. The next day was the first day of school and I was as nervous as ever but I got to see my friends so in the end it worked out. “Hey what’s up bro?” CJ said. “Hey how have you been?” I said to CJ with a worried but also happy face. “Good, how about you?” said CJ with an excited face. “I guess i’m ok i’m just worried I won’t make it through sixth grade!” I said. “ Me, Vicky, Andrew and Alexandra are here for you don’t you worry one bit!” CJ said with a smile. “Thanks I really appreciate it” I smiled back at him! We walked into school with everyone rushing to get to their first class, people were staring at me as I walked to my class but I didn’t care because I knew I didn’t do anything wrong so I kept on walking, but literally everyone was staring at me and of course Cj was on his phone. The first day was just a normal first day for everybody, I guess it was a normal day for me ,except for everyone staring at me for no reason but I didn’t care. At the end of the day I saw Vicky, Andrew and Alexandra walking home together but I didn’t want to bother so I walked alone, I saw no sight of Cj probably because he ditched classes to go home again like last year in fifth grade. I got home and went on my computer on to instagram

Do you ever miss the sense of unfamiliarity a space used to hold for you? Perhaps attempted to remember the feeling you had the very first time you walked through the place you now confidently call home? I crave the rush of exploring somewhere foreign to me, and chase the excitement of strange settings tirelessly. While walking towards the famous Sweet Auburn Market with my classmates, my mind was already racing. I couldn’t help but wonder how differently each one of us would experience and view the space. We all carry lenses through which we view the world with styles original to us. Amazingly we all come from an extremely diverse range of cultures, backgrounds, and personal experiences that would shape the connections we would soon make.

My biggest enemy was myself, I was stopping myself from doing the one dream I’ve had my entire life. Maybe because I was scared, scared of being judged by those around me or maybe it was that I was scared of failure. “It is not failure itself that holds you back; it is the fear of failure that paralyzes you.” - Brian Tracy. Somehow I realized that if I wanted my dream to come true, I couldn’t keep waiting for me to be “ready” and that if I kept waiting to be ready I’d be waiting my whole life. So I took charge and I posted my first youtube video.

In the spring of 2017, my family had traveled to snow-capped peaks of Colorado. This trip was an annual ski trip that we had been looking forward to for the past few months. I was at the beginning of the trail with my snowboard and have been focusing on my technique. In a split second, I was tumbling down the trail, dislocating and breaking my elbow in the process.

We were in Laredo, having just finished our first day at a Habitat for Humanity work site. The

Anger. I was only eleven, but the sight of my one year old sister filled me with rage. Everyone had remarked on the successful prognosis ahead of her second surgery within a year. “It is going to be better”, “the previous surgeon was incompetent” and “this new doctor is an expert”. These were the words thrown around the house prior to the surgery. They were all wrong. My sister had been born with a cleft palate, and after a few months, was scheduled for surgery. The first surgery was a disaster; the surgeon made several mistakes, and compounded the original issue. In the months that followed, I watched my family break apart, and come back together as we raised money for a second surgery. Alas, the second surgery was only slightly more successful than the first. Faced with depleted financial resources, we knew that was it, and she would have to live with misshapen lips, an uneven nose, and a scar. The exhaustion of this whirlwind experience was soon followed by a deep-seated mistrust, and hatred for medical professionals. I could not understand how such callousness was possible and I wondered why doctors were held in high esteem. Every day, I cared for my sister, and every day, this rage consumed me.

When I was younger and hanging out with my friends, I now realize that we didn’t have the best experiences. I feel as if I was always the one to get hurt out of the family although I have never broken any bones. I’ve done some crazy things and stupid stuff, but I’ve learned from it and gotten better about knowing what to do and how not to hurt myself. Overall for being fifteen, I have been through a lot of “injuries.”

My family and I just arrived at Dunroamin Park in Caledonia, Minnesota. We attend our annual family reunion campout here every year. My siblings and I went straight to the pool after we finished setting up the camper. I was playing in the pool with a bunch of my cousins and having a good time when my older brother tapped me on the shoulder.

My life has never been this way before. Having dreams you wished will never come true. Having thoughts that can't escape your head. Having friends who tell you that’s it's meant to be. Was it meant to be?

When I was in the 8th grade an interesting event happened to me that changed me. One day I was outside for lunch in the middle of May. Me and some unnamed friends would always take like three or four apples outside everyday. We would eat them most of the time then we would throw them. Sometimes at people and at targets. Yes, we were very immature. My school had a shed outside to store track equipment. There was a couple kids standing there so I threw an apple at the shed and it hit above their heads and splattered on one of them.

Time slowed down and gravity lifted as my car drifted over the thin black sheet of glass. My car didn't stop until it connected with the telephone pole next to the road. The impact threw me into the air bag and broke all of my windows. I must have been in a lot of pain because the next thing I remember was waking up in the hospital the next morning, with my right arm and left leg in a cast and a nurse standing over me. She told me that they were unable to find any identification on me so they couldn't call anyone to let them know about the accident. That made sense considering I accidently left my wallet at work, which I was driving home on a back road from when I hit the pole. She brought me a computer and let me borrow her phone to contact those that I needed to.

It was hot summer day in Banso, Cameroon, kids were running around, parents were washing clothes and cooking as the wind blew the dust into our eyes but we loved it and didn't care. I was playing and my mom came to up to me in the backyard and said, “you are going” and I instantly knew what she was talking about;

Surely in life, you have experienced rejection. Suddenly substituting a significant lost before allowing ourselves mend from that hurtful reality. Maybe pursued counseling for a failing marriage yet the ending results were divorcing. Perhaps trying to overcome the pain of betrayal by a friend or family member. Is it possible had an interview didn't meet the qualifications for the job and feel like a failure?