Personal Narrative: Suffering In Isolation

The transition from eighth grade to ninth grade is one of the most difficult but unforgettable things a student must do in his adolescence. For me, it was filled with new opportunities of taking Ap classes and joining clubs. One of these cubs was Youth and Government (Y&G). For as long as I can remember my brother, Riad, has boasted about how amazing Y&G is and how it has changed his life. My brother is three years older then me, so as a freshman he was a senior in Y&G.

Many people everyday write down their feelings to deal with depression. One character who embodies this is Holden Caulfield from the novel, Catcher in the Rye, written by J.D. Salinger. Salinger journals Holden’s life after experiencing the loss of his brother, Allie. This coping mechanism of writing down one’s feelings in order to deal with loss mirrors that of the artist Iyaz. After losing his lover, he wrote a song, titled “Solo”, which helps him to express his emotions and longing toward her.

Routine A disturbance in a Tuesday morning routine was a change of a lifetime: my brief car-ride nap was interrupted by a crash, then, the jarring of the ambulance. It was an unexpected awakening. Sixth grade social studies and spelling tests had to be put aside, as the rest of my day would be filled with the beeps of machines and chatter of scrub-clad trauma nurses. Suddenly, my mind was back in my body - and my first conscious words were my complaints of the uncomfortable neck brace, followed by my request to remove it.

They told me grief is the price you pay for love, and here I am now dealing with her death. I guess everybody has passed though this phase sometime during their life but why me? Myrtle cheated on me, she took it too far. Though I kind of doubted it, I felt like she was not the Myrtle I first met. I remember when I met her for the first time, she was kind and adoring.

Life was so much better in the States where I’d have all my friends around. (Looking at photos of friends) Now that I’m in a different country, I’ve lost contact with all my friends. My parents said we were going to have a better life here in Canada because my dad found a better job and found a nice house and I was looking forward to living here. But things aren’t going so well.

she said. Under the honey-coloured light you saw tears cocoon her eyelashes, mascara in long moults from tear duct to chin. And over the rocks, over the water, over time and heartache--yours, hers--you glimpsed insights more fleeting than the wing of a moth. For that instant, on that cliff jump on that evening in July, you knew the answers to the questions she'd ask. But you knew, too, in a moment, you'd lose that insight and return to the clichés passed to you that would be passed on by her.

Let it etch forever in your memory as I speak the only words that will ever come to matter in my existence. I love you" She said with such sincerity it seemed it seemed to shatter all else. Nothing those voices had done or had of him could withstand that. There was nothing that they could take of him now. He was free and it was as thought time began once again.

The novel Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck, represents many things but the sacrifices the characters make are some of the most important things that happen in this novel. When people make sacrifice of things in their lives they begin to sometimes feel loneliness and/or regret for their actions or decisions. Also because they are lonely their actions become different from that of other people who don’t have large amounts of loneliness and/or regret in their lives because we must sacrifice some things in life. To begin with, when we sacrifice things in our lives, it creates the potential for loneliness. For instance when the men in the bunkhouse pressure Candy into getting rid of his dog when he finally says “”Awright-take ‘im.”

Overcoming “The” Struggle I don’t recall having a hard time learning how to read. It was one of those things that just came easily to me for some reason. For the most part I enjoyed reading as well. The only time I didn’t enjoy reading was when I didn’t understand a certain word or a certain phrase.

It was as if she said it to warn others of the words that I was going to be hearing, warn others of the hurt I was going to be feeling and of the challenge my life would become. She took me outside and put her hands on my shoulders as if she was going to be the one that needed the help to stand up. I looked at her and watched as her tongue said his name. I fell to the ground my knees buckled and my heart sank deeper than it ever had. Almost as if the hurt before this was only digging a hole to the endless tunnel of pain and regret and sadness i would fall into tonight.

I am driven. It wasn’t always that way. The passions I developed inside as a result of my experiences became too powerful to restrain. When I began to speak again, I understood the value of words and the power they held. I began to perceive words as a tool; a powerful, meaningful weapon against the adversity I have witnessed in this world and the changes I needed to see in it.

I was born on August 16, 1996. My mother has always told me that she knew I would be an impatient person: not only did I come a week early, there were only three hours between her water breaking and hearing my first cries. I was born into a somewhat poor family, but we always had enough to scrape by. A lot of people look back on their childhoods fondly, but I’m afraid I can’t say the same.

An outsider: a person who does not belong. I stepped onto the chilly, uninviting plane with a sparkle of hope and adventure in my eyes. I was flying in an enormous plane to go on a gruesome eighteen hour flight. At first sight, every single person shot at us, not because we were flying a plane. But, because we were eight American-

In my brief life, I have overcome a lot of adversity. My mom fled Mexico with her three young children to escape domestic violence. When we came to this country we had only a few personal belongings and the promise of a better future. We came to this country and lived in a small trailer with no toilet other than a bucket, and no shower except for the one that was lent to us from the kindness of a stranger, our new neighbor. As a single parent, my mother had to work day and night to support us.

I didn’t think she would leave us so soon, but you know what they say life doesn’t always go as planned. I never got the chance to say goodbye, or tell her I loved her very much and that I was grateful for all that she had done for me, I never got to tell her what a inspiration she was to me, and I never got to hug one last time. It wasn’t far, I hated that I wasn’t there for her and I couldn’t do anything about it. I guess when people say that life isn’t far, they really mean