|By Frizzbug (Frizzbug) on Tuesday, September 09, 2003 - 08:02 am: Edit|
I wrote an essay about an event in my life that changed who I am. I, however, do not know if it appropriate and secondly if the essay even makes sense. Please look it over and let the criticism overflow.
“Lauren, do you disagree?” I am lost within my mind; my head is shaking vehemently, my heart pounds, my stomach sinks. I am within the single most embarrassing moment in my life and no one knows. I answer passively with a lump in my throat, “no ma’am”. I had done it again, disappeared into my inner world. I was trying to get rid of that single reoccurring thought, “There is no God, there is no God, there is no God…”. Every time it occurred it had to go and often I ended up fighting it to a point that it shown, to my disgrace, on the outside.
The experience was a climax to a change of perception of my world, my personality, my family and my faith. Often one reaches a point where they can get no further unless that are completely knocked down and rebuilt. I had reached a point in my life that I thought I was who I was—a quiet, passive, and rather closed-minded individual. In the summer before my sophomore year I would be imploded.
It was a wonderful beautiful day near the end of May when your mind is set on nothing but the summer ahead. My dad called a family meeting. This was nothing atypical of my family; it probably meant that there would be a change in the allowance policy, possibly a raise. No such bliss followed however. My parents announced that my mom was planning on moving out to go live with her family in Houston. It did not register in my mind but suddenly my face was wet and my chin was shivering. “It’s nothing permanent, we just can’t agree on things right now.” Now my feet were taking me to my room.
Having grown up in the environment that I had, my mind could not understand what had occurred. My family was incredibly structured. My parents were devoutly Christian. My dad was even involved with ministry on and off. The word divorce was a dirty word in my house; it was something that only happened to people in the secular world; it happened to people that were dirty and undeserving. My foundation, my family structure and faith, were ripped from underneath me. The absolutely impossible had occurred. In the months after my mom announced she was leaving she moved in and out several times. I could not bare the constant uncertainty and the dirtiness I felt for being a part of such an event and soon became ill. I didn’t eat for an entire month and was tormented daily as I tried to hold onto my faith while everything that I was seeing was telling me that there was no use for it. When school started I was forced to drop down to lower level classes as I struggled to pay attention to what was occurring in class.
Further into that fall I decided that I would no longer let my circumstances control me and that instead I would control them. Instead of being passive I pushed every last button to be admitted back into the honors classes that I had desired to take. A week after one teacher laughed at me for trying to get into her class I was in it. I suppressed my obsessive thoughts that had so distracted me and drove away any ounce of depression. When my mom left permanently in January it did not budge me in the slightest way because I had matured to a point that I had become used to hardship and refused to be bothered by it. Soon after my mother left I found myself as part of a new family. My dad had remarried and I was no joined by two new siblings.
I no longer felt that I was not worthy to be associated with. I understood life from a different perspective. My religion was gone and what I have now is true faith. I learned that children are taught many social stigmatisms and are unaware of it that. That people in blended families, those struggling with mental problems, people who take part in the occasional wrongdoing are not to be looked upon as sinners and shunned but rather are just like the typical person who accidentally ran into a problem and need instead to be supported.
“Ah goo, ah goo” I tickle my smiling baby sister whom I love very much just thinking that if my life hadn’t changed I would have never had her. I would have never been able to grasp onto life as I grew older and instead would have remained closed-minded. As I reflect I realize that change is positive. I realize that at the ripe age of 17 there is a lot more change to come and I am ready for it.
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