The Story Of My Life

“We tried. But she seems to know an awful lot about you. Says her name it Tabitha Couture.”

I rake my hands over the white sheets as I flatten out the wrinkles of my childhood bed. The faded red comforter is still placed neatly at the end of the bed and the numerous pillows continue to be clean and fluffed. As it stands in my memory, almost everything in this room is exactly the same as how I had left it. My dresser still stands in the corner and the knob my brother and his friends had taken a baseball bat to is still missing. Even now, my late night coffee stains cling to the white rug and The Story of Ferdinand rest on its designated area of my nightstand. The only things missing are her paintings. They had all been taken down and sold for any amount that could make off of them. Now bare walls glare back at me. Of course this decision was made while I was away at college. My Uncle, Samuel, had decided that Mom’s prized possessions were worth more in paper than on canvas.

My life would change forever today. I would have a baby sister, and I did not know then

Almost everyone has a unique or interesting experience in their lifetime. But I would say mine tops the list. Here’s my story. When I was in my Freshman year in High School, it was quickly approaching Christmas break, and I was feeling excited to be out of school after the difficult semester I had been through. Every year my family and I would travel somewhere for Christmas break. We’d usually go skiing in Red River, New Mexico or would go visit some family members in Chicago. This year we decided to go somewhere different. After we had spent time debating where to go, my mom suggested that we go to Alaska. We all agreed and planned the trip.

The sun shone high, a little too high. Walking down the path of the Washington Monument in, quite obviously, Washington D.C., the Lincoln memorial looked bigger of an obstacle than my friends and I had thought it'd be. I made a grand mistake of wearing a heavy shirt; sweat was dripping in torrents down my neck. Elli and Kennedie, my greatest friends who always remained faithful, were walking somewhat a few paces in front of me. The heat was very unbearable, but Elli's mom, who lagged behind me more than 10 feet, had seemed to of taken the brunt of the heat.

Hi Kim, I just wanted to tell you a little bit about my story. I got sucked in when I was 21. At the time I was already having a crisis of faith. On top of that I became incredibly disillusioned with college. I was in the wrong major but at the time it just felt like my life was going nowhere. I prayed to God whom I didn 't even know if I believed in, and the rest is history. They were the first people to come along and I was so weak at the time I could be swayed whatever way the wind blew. I had an incredibly pushy bible teacher that basically tried to befriend me then would threaten to quit studying the Bible with me if I wasn 't making progress. And guess who defined what progress meant. It wasn 't coming to know who God is and coming to love him and his son. It was doing the assigned watchtower tasks. So I did them and was just kind of drug along for the ride. Eventually I was baptized, pioneering and going along with the flow. I had my doubts I can 't remember a time when I didn 't at least have slight doubts. But at the time I was doing what they said, partaking fully in there brainwashing program.

A dimly-burning fire illuminated the shadows that had begun to slide behind the furniture, its last few divergent, dying embers perfectly mimicking the colors so dutifully draped around the room, reflecting off the red-and-gold trinkets trimming the tops of the shelves and tapestries trailing down the walls. Whatever little warmth it offered only paled in comparison to that which was radiating from right beside me.

Maria slid her dress over her head, and wiggled as she pulled it down and straightened it.

The Story of My Life is an account of the early years of a woman who overcame incredible problems to become an accomplished, literate adult. The book does not give a complete account of the author’s life, as it was written when she was still a college student. It is, however, a unique account of one young woman’s passage from almost total despair to success in a world mostly populated by hearing and seeing people. This book is relatively short, but the modern editions also include letters written by and to Helen Keller and an analysis of her education from a later standpoint.

I allow him to lead me into the room. Two lit floor lamps, similar to the ones in the foyer, reside in the back corners of the room. Two sofas, made from dark wood and dressed in fine cream fabric, lay cornered to one and other. One between the two cream shaded lamps, the other, opposite the fireplace. A low, dark wood bookcase sits under the window with more photo frames along its top. Books line each of the shelves. Angelo doesn’t seem the type to read books, but I can tell from the spines that each book has spent quality time with someone. The warm glow of the fireplace draws my attention, inviting me to sit beside it. The cream, marble mantelpiece has grey lines winding through it like lines on a road map. A large, golden framed

I caught a whiff of cinnamon and vanilla as I stepped into the guest bedroom and dropped Caleb's bag on the bed.  Terracotta walls, Italian tile floor, and blue curtains.

"Mom, Leya's gonna be over any second to pick me up for school. I figured I'd go ahead and tell you bye since you don't look like you're coming down anytime soon." I plucked a sloppy kiss on her cheek as she gave me an awkward half-hug while shuffling through some more papers on her desk in a nonplussed manner.

The lunchroom was crowded when I arrived. It was hard to find anyone in the crowd, but I managed to spot Sara. She was standing on her tiptoes, waving at me. I waved back before making my way to the back of the cafeteria. They’d reserved a seat for me using a water bottle. I’m always the last one to lunch, so this happens every day. I murmur “Thanks,” handing Laney the water bottle. She barely notices me and continues talking. Glancing to my left, Emily and Aidan whisper about their weekend plans. On my right, Bella and Grace ramble on about the upcoming test in Mrs. Jenkins’s class.

“ You are currently in a very healthy weight for your age and body structure,” explained the doctor. Oh never mind then.

People don’t realize the sad truth that I’ve been holding on for and secretly suffering with most of my life. People seem to see me as a girl that is naturally bubbly, happy, and outgoing. This was a way for me to hide my real emotions in the time when my depression and anxiety were major factors impacting my self-esteem, just a couple of years ago. So, yes, I admit it -- I was a victim of depression and anxiety. My anxiety has been occurring ever since I was a toddler. My usual anxious behavior would be when I would easily get nervous, wouldn’t talk that well in order to be understood, would go through emotional meltdowns at times, and so forth. My depression however, seem to connect a lot with my anxiety because of my meltdowns and it would easily bring my self-esteem down. One interesting fact about my depression is that it got extreme when I was in middle school. Many events in that time of my life made me feel absolutely worthless inside.