Traumas-Personal Narrative

A time I had to overcome adversity in my life was when I became injured during the middle of cheer tryouts. At the time I was very passionate about competitive cheer, and my goal was to make the junior five team. When I got to tryouts everyone was tumbling, stunting and doing the dance routine. My adrenaline was pumping as I went to warm up my tumbling and throw a roundoff, back handspring, layout. I was determined to accomplish this for tryouts and impress my coach, but I was still very nervous. As I was running into the roundoff back handspring, I knew something was bound to go wrong. The next thing I knew I was in the middle of the air and suddenly landed on my knees, with my ankle twisted under me. My face got bright

I gave a small glare to the man standing in the corner of the room he just looks at me like I killed his pet goldfish. I still didn't understand what was going on. The two men look at each other and then they just leave the room, but inside that room, i could hear the men yelling at each other. Then it goes dead silent. The first man walks in “Come with me now!” He says,I stand up and follow him out of the room. When we get out I see the other man lying on the floor weak and lifeless. They put me in the room right in front of the man and made me watch every time he was hit when he tried to get up. I felt so bad for this guy, all he did was try to help someone that does not sound that bad. Does it? After 3-4 hours of this torture for this good man they finally stop, 4-5 gards pick him up and throw him in my room. Then the guard that was beating him walks up and says,”If you like them so much them you can be one of them.”. Then night fell i slept in the back he was still lying helpless on the floor. I wake up to the sound of the door slamming again. I jump up the guard is not there any more i was so scared about what happened to

I covered my mouth to keep it shut and not say anything. He was wearing black boots and black pants. I could see him running towards the open window in a hurry. Maybe he thought i jumped out or something. He began to run towards the stairs. “He’s leaving” i whispered… But there was no answer, I realized that the call was cut. The man was stepping down the stairs… when all of a sudden there was a loud ringtone coming from my hand. There was then a panic in my heart. The man rushed back into my room and entered, There was a moment of silence when all i could see was the man’s black boots staring straight at my eyes. When suddenly there was a powerful pull dragging me out of the bed. Closing my eyes all i could feel is was extrucenary pain all over my body, every second. I reached out for anything near by so I could at least fight. I felt something from the tip of my fingers. I got a grip of something and swung as hard as I could, I hit him hard. The man fell back. I opened my eyes and there he was, Lying on the ground. Weak and hurt i got up and slowly started walking out of my room and down the stairs. My whole body hurt it was hard to move. I heard the man start to get up, I was terrified. I decided to walk to the basement door to try and hide. I remembered the small door that was in the basement. And went gently to open the door. Weak and in pain I was able to get down the old sketchy stairs and move some boxes to open the door. I opened the door. On the other side was a little room. It was dark and had a little bit of light coming from the outside. Maybe the moon light from the outside. I sat on the small corner of the room.I wrapped my arms around my body to try and stay warm. It was quiet for a second. Until I heard the basement door slam open. The man's foot steps were loud and you could tell he wasn't very happy. I could easily read exactly where he was. He was looking for me,

I feel a sense of calmness wash over me. My thoughts are peaceful and positive. I am confident and capable. I sleep a deep, healing sleep. I wake in the morning refreshed and renewed.

There are many things I wouldn’t put past my estranged mother: she’s trolled me in the comment section of my online articles, publicly disowned me and my sister on Facebook more than once, and put me in very serious legal trouble. But I never thought I would see her openly defending a man who bragged about “grabbing pussy”, nor did I think I’d see her outright mock victims of alleged sexual assault, especially because she is a survivor of sexual abuse and assault.

On September 2nd 2016 my best friend, Ashley Minor, who is a single mom of two, was working her twelve house shift at the hospital. At the end of her shift her life stopped for a short time when she received a phone call that her 8 year old son Teagan, was hit by a car, and had multiple injuries.

Focus! The burden of destructive emotions constantly tarnishes my brain. It is essential that I isolate myself from the pessimistic chain of thoughts. I need to distort myself from the daily trauma and everlasting misery that I encounter. The turmoil has left me forever fatigued and has numbed my mind. My heart is grazed and broken with regret, my soul is haunted by fear and guilt along with my body diseased and rotten. The experience has been morbid and excruciating, I can’t tolerate this anymore.

Throughout our lives, every person encounters hardships that put a strain on other aspects of our lives. The biggest hardship that I have faced was taking care of my wife after she suffered a severe head injury while at work. The injury was the result of a salad fridge door falling and striking the back of her head, causing her to receive a severe concussion that lead to post-concussion syndrome. As a result, she became completely dependent on me. Some of the major hardships that we faced during these times are finances, helping her cope with her injury while she recovered, and maintaining my 4.0 GPA.

Trauma occurs when a child has experienced an event that threatens or causes harm to her emotional and physical well-being. Events can include war, terrorism, natural disasters, but the most common and harmful to a child’s psychosocial well-being are those such as domestic violence, neglect, physical and sexual abuse, maltreatment, and witnessing a traumatic event. While some children may experience a traumatic event and go on to develop normally, many children have long lasting implications into adulthood.

The rising sun was orient in the blue sky. Dewdrops sparkle in the morning sun. Someone patted me on the back. The man whipped out a knife. He was a fat clumsy and dirty looking man. His hair had been badly cut and the ends were uneven. The sight made me stop dead in my tracks. Fear stole into my heart. He cowed me with his threats. The smell of smoke clung to his clothes.On the one hand, he had pressed and held both my hands. On the other hand, he continually stroked my body. He just bear down on me with all his strength so I was unable to repel and move. The rough cloth pricked my skin.Then I just lost it and started screaming. "Stop it !" I bellowed at him. My word made no impression on him. No one was on the scene at the time. Why he did it? What was his intention in doing that? How could this happen to me? Why should it be me? After that, every step I took sent the pain shooting up my thighs. I could not breathe. As I straightened up, the ache in my back grew worse. I bore the pain without a word of complaint. I thought it would

We also got a brother along with a mother and father. He was born with alcohol syndrome because his mother drank when she was pregnant with him. We all had our own bag of problems. I was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) for everything that happened to me. When I was a year old, one of my foster families didn't strap me into my car seat, and they got into a wreck. The car accident started my PTSD, but after that, everything bad that happened made my PTSD worse. My sister had mental health issues, to the point where the doctors said her mindset would remain at 15 until she's 35.

A couple of years ago, one night, I was about to propose to my girlfriend before an nfl game tbh, when my roommate Joseph barged into the room out of nowhere, tripped and fell over, breaking a glass table with his face. Totally ruined the mood. Now, I didn't know Joseph THAT well, don't even remember where he was from, but let' just say I put my plans on hold to help him through his injuries.Joseph had gotten a big glass shard in his eye, making him completely blind in that eye. He was walking around with one of those cotton pads on his eye for a couple of months. Then suddenly, he disappeared, along with my girlfriend .Apparently they'd bonded during the time after his injuries, and eloped together , left me behind without as much as a note.

“Chantelle! Come over and see this,” my mom whispered as she glided past me towards her client’s chair. I unfolded my nine-year-old self from under the empty hair dryer and gingerly walked over. While peering skeptically at the child’s scalp before me, I began to note tiny bugs crawling by the roots and my eyes followed my mother’s comb tip as she pointed out several nits. This was definitely one of the worst cases of lice she had shown me, and I had seen quite a few by then! As the daughter of a hairstylist, my exposure to skin and hair started at an early age. Growing up in a salon allowed me to observe first hand how significant an impact looking healthy on the outside had on a client’s everyday confidence and self-esteem; a lesson that was later reinforced during my acne ridden teenage years at an all-girls high school. At the salon, I always enjoyed being called over by the estheticians and hairdressers to view interesting cases that ranged from alopecia and cystic acne, to severe foot fungus and poliosis. Since my mother and her employees always recommended physician follow-ups when they spotted something suspicious, I was always left wondering what happened on the medical end of the spectrum. In high school and college, I began to fulfill this curiosity by reading about the science behind skin, hair and nail disorders.

My first encounter with a patient has been rather difficult: it was my mother. When our family used to live in the Philippines, there was an armed robbery in our house. While the intruders left our family alive, their damage was felt. My mother began suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). Seeing her suffer pained me. Despite my numerous attempts to calm her, however, she remained distressed. If I had ever understood helplessness, it was problem then. It was the pain of the inability to help someone you love.

Well, I would have to say you’re doing good job of hiding it because I don’t think anyone else knows besides me, and you have my word I won’t tell anyone. Can I ask you about it or is that a no zone? How are you feeling tonight? The reason why I told you about me is because that was the first time in a long time that I had a full-blown PTSD problem come up and I felt I needed to explain myself because I directed my anger out on you and I don’t want you think, I am someone who I am not. That day I hit a low point that came with consequences, but I believe I brushed myself off and moved past it for now.