Personal Narrative-Paranoia

To you, I am just another story to tell. My phone is on, but I haven’t received a text in weeks. You remind me of that every day. You laugh at me, call me a whore, tell me I am crazy. To you, I am just another girl for you to destroy. Depression, you make me physically ill. You make me thoughtless. I can’t concentrate on conversations or school anymore. I am just so exhausted. I look forward to the moment I can crawl into bed and sleep my life away. You made my life not worth living. Anxiety, you lowered my self-esteem. I can’t even wear my hair up in ponytails because you told me my forehead was too big. You told me that everyone was watching me walk down the hallway, judging my plain outfits. You pulled me into extreme isolation. When you

The "it came as a revelation to me" befuddles me, and perhaps on the grounds that I have never encountered this, so I'm speculating this fair appears unexpectedly and blast, the data just flies in your mind. That is my wild figure. How might you depict enlighten individuals regarding this data given? On the off chance that a disclosure came to somebody in this advanced age, they would conceivably be called insane, however then you need to ponder, would they say they are insane or would they say they are being honest? I've met what's coming to me of insane and a portion of the stuff they say may sound insane, yet it truly makes them

In a restroom, in a church or anywhere else in the world you will judge a person by their appearance whether it be negative or positive, you cannot help it, it just happens whether you like it or not. For an example, when you are walking down the street and you see someone wearing ripped up clothes and bad hygiene then you automatically assume negative things such as beggar, homeless or even possibly a drug abuser. Being judged can go a different way also, you can think of someone as a rich, snobby individual because they are wearing very nice clothes and act a certain way but in all actuality, they could be a wonderful person. A more serious case of people judging other people that I have noticed is that most people

Since I was young and started to plan out events I have always been worried about how they would turn out. I always fretted about whether this or that would turn out correctly. I firmly believe in Murphy’s law, whatever can go wrong, will go wrong. In my experiences I have always planned every detail I can so that all of my ducks are in a row. However, there have been instances where my planning was not sufficient and integral parts to the event had failed.

I was twelve when my sister went “mad”. The hidden family suspicions confirmed as I sat watching her write across her bedroom walls in colored sharpies. She would ramble one thing or another, as if to explain the meaning of each equation or symbol. She was a mathematician, and a brilliant one at that. Her autistic tendencies rubbed off on me growing up and together we studied the people around us in bewilderment. More socially apt as I was, I became the psychologist, she the mathematician. Together we dreamed of all the great things we would do.

Growing up as one of the outcast or black sheep amongst my classmates, it was very difficult. In a small town where most kids are so sheltered from other cultures and trends I was not widely expected for my choices most of the time. Whether it was my fashion, taste in music, or even just my different thought process, it got me some backlash from the other kids for a while.

The first thing to know about me is that I am a shy person until I feel comfortable. I like to have good relationships with my teachers because it takes away any uneasiness. It is important to me to be in a comfortable environment because of my anxiety. I have always been an anxious kid, but it became more serious from seventh grade and on. I regularly get panic attacks that happen whenever and wherever, but more likely if I don’t feel safe. If I start to panic during class, it’s best for me to have someone I trust close by. Lucky for me, a couple of my friends will be attending your class with me.

Irrational fear was a prevalent aspect of my childhood. On its mission to scare me to death, the heaviest of the weapons that life had in its arsenal was the annual cabin canoe trip over 10 years at my summer camp in Ontario, Canada. Starting when I was 7 years old, for six days and five nights every summer, we covered as much ground as a marathon and carry our weight in food and packs across kilometers of hilly terrain and desolate lakes and rivers. Eating dinners on the lake and sleeping under towering pine trees is some people’s idea of relaxing, but for me it was a living hell. Every night I stayed awake shaking in my sleeping bag and getting worked up over every loon call or crack of a branch. But what really kept me up was the fear

That was last night. Currently, I sit alone at lunch. Liz and Julia are across the cafeteria, laughing with-I suppose-their new friends. Well, at least their first day of highschool is going good. I feel as if everybody is staring at me. Today, I woke up late, and had no time.

The plane began to shudder, “turbulence” I thought to myself, but the shuddering was followed by the wail of warning bells. I dashed to the front, desperate to see what was going on. Swirling grey storm clouds waited whilst jagged lines of bright light flashed metres in front of the plane

I shrieked with excitement, grasping onto my laptop to make sure my eyes weren’t deceiving me. Was I going absolutely insane? Did I really see that four-digit number? At seventeen I couldn’t really say that anything about me was interesting. Everyone around me was swallowed into the high school norm. They would be joining clubs and/or sports. While I on the other hand, didn’t have any uniqueness to show. It wasn’t until I began writing on my own blog website.

Playing on the playground as a child, I always caught myself deep in thought with a strong desire for what others had and for what I lacked. Watching the girls run by with their new light up shoes, seeing the boys chase the popular girls around, and peeking at the test across the table in envy of the higher grade. As I pondered the differences that I shared with others, I began to realize I was causing unnecessary jealousy and sadness. As the years progressed, I came to the realization that there would always be a more pleasing hue of green on the other side.

The Bunker was not really a bunker. It was a majestic beautiful building, nothing could destroy it. It was made from the best and strongest of materials. The inside of the building was as majestic as the outside made from the finest leather 's, the finest metals, the finest food, all the finest materials in the world. The Place was not our 's though, there were door 's, more door 's than you can ever imagine. People, a small group of people from all the continent 's and area 's that had survived. The people were confused, "where do we go?" People asked. A stage appeared out of the wall, people were afraid. We all start to panic, people running around running into each other, some knocking others out, some just passing out. I stood there

I woke up expecting to find the smell of cakey pancakes, maple syrup, and crispy greasy pepper seasoned bacon. But instead, I awoke to my girlfriend Jade tugging on my arm telling me “Get up get up, we're gonna die if you don't!” The Nukes dropped in California first, and then Boston leaving the rest of America in fear and wanting to evacuate as soon as they could. Jade and I ran for our lives to our neighbor's house where they had a bunker that they said they'd let us use in case of an emergency. They were in the Bahamas on their honeymoon, but luckily they were nice people.

As I took a step back I felt the ground rumble.I went outside to check.There was a bunch of birds flying away from the water.Mice and other mammals running uphill.Roxy started barking and scratching the front door.It looked like a bunch of zoo animals escaping the zoo.My parents came running downstairs.Mom carried Joe holding him tight. I asked what was happening.As I turned around a humongous wave came upon us.