ME: Hello! Hi! What's up? So, for the purposes of this week's blog, I'm going to ask you to jump into the Way Back machine--and review the old concept of the Hero's Journey! Good times, amirite?
Y'all: (group chat text) and then,
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ME: ....
Y'all:
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This is how it goes in my head, lololol. So, anyway...
The Hero's Journey is ubiquitous (look it up)--I don't know why we stop teaching it in 9th grade. Everything is a journey story, tbh. But more importantly, all LIFE is, in some way, our own private hero's tale.
Many of you already know the circular concept of the hero's journey, or maybe you have no idea, but here is a quick refresher either way:
There is "the call," which is, ostensibly, the beginning of the journey, this is what starts you on your path in the first place;
there is the "threshold"--literally, crossing over from the known into the unknown, maybe it's moving into a new house, or going from high school to college;
the "challenges or trials," a.k.a. life's little but yet HUGE problems, or dragons to be slain, if life were a book
"the abyss"--when you think the whole world is against you and nothing will ever be right again.
Once you get past all of that you move on to "the transformation," or in other words, the "What have you learned, Dorothy?" moment--that moment you realize what you learned has changed you in some really significant way,
"the atonement"--how have you made peace with what you've learned or become or how have you accepted your new identity,
and finally, "the return" (with a gift), where you come back to the only place you've ever known a changed person with a host of knowledge/skills or wealth to aid in all future endeavors.
Think of any movie or song or book you LOVE--and when you really analyze it, you start to see that all of literature revolves around some schematic of this journey, and if you think about it, all of your lives do too. Especially at this stage of your high school careers.
Some of you have lived lives and seen things you never should have, never wanted to or never thought you would, for better or worse. All of you have been through problems and overcome obstacles and persevered.
My question this week is--how?
How did you do it?
What type of mental, spiritual, physical, or intestinal fortitude (look it up) did you need to have in order to emerge victorious from your journey?
What was the journey?
Did you embark upon it willingly or were you pushed?
What did you learn?
Did it change you? For the better? Or worse?
Did you have help, or "guardians" as they say in Journey jargon?
Tell me about it.
(400-450 words MINIMUM--this is for those of you that seem to have paragraphia anorexia--which is, btw, not a real thing)
My journey has been very crazy and hard. Most of my life, I’ve had it pretty easy. Both of my parents are married, I live in a nice house, I have a nice family, and I am pretty well taken care of. My family was picture perfect. Of course we had our little arguments, but we always got past them and managed to grow from them. Of course, the transition from middle school to high school was a little rough, but being in the same school as my brother brought us closer together. Before going to the same school, we were at each other’s throats constantly, just like any other stereotypical brother-sister relationship. We were all happy and we were all there for each other. Every once and awhile, I would have a fight with a friend, but I tried my hardest to avoid drama or anything of that sort. I was living a normal life. I managed to get a dog sitting job for a lady in my neighborhood, which I love so much(The dog is an 11 year old pit bull. She is the sweetest thing ever!). Along with that, I made cupcakes for one of my mom’s coworkers for her various family parties. It was nice to make money here and there. It also made me feel more grown up because I was earning money of my own. The last time I made cupcakes for this lady was actually the weekend when my life changed forever. Everything seemed normal. My parents and I dropped off the cupcakes and went back home. My family and I watched a TV show together in the family room, just like we did every other night for as long as I can remember. We were all enjoying our time together. The next day, we went to the beach. The weather was perfect, the water was warm, and it wasn’t too sunny. We had a great time, but only if it stayed that way. Later in the day, my parents and I had a birthday party to go to, so we went back home to get ready. I didn’t want to go to the party, but my mom said that I should go since it was a close family friend. My brother decided to stay home since he didn’t really know the people at the party. My other brother went to his girlfriends house. Anyway, we went to the party, and just like I expected, I was bored out of my mind and I could not wait to head home. After what felt like forever, my parents and I headed home. I noticed that when we walked in the door, the dogs seemed really excited, but it didn’t alarm me. I decided to go upstairs to shower, but before I went in the bathroom, I noticed my brothers door was closed and his light was off.
ReplyDeleteHe wasn’t anywhere else in the house, so he had to be in there. For some reason, I thought that he may have went to be early, but he never did that. After my mom ran upstairs, she opened his door. My heart dropped when I saw a shotgun on the ground and my brother lying on the bed. Before I could see what he did to himself, my mom rushed me away. I couldn’t stop shaking. I couldn’t comprehend what I just saw. Did my brother really do that? What was he thinking? I’ll never be able to talk to him again? So many questions were running through my head. That was the worst night of my life, and I don’t think anything could be worse than that. That week, my family and I had to do so much, decide how we wanted him buried, pick a resting spot, plan the funeral, say goodbye to him for the last time, among so many other things. I still remember the feeling of his cold fingers on my hands the last time I was able to see him before he was sent off to be cremated. All I could do was tell myself that I shouldn’t have gone to that party. If I was still home, then maybe he would still be alive. I was also confused because he seemed so happy that day at the beach. What went wrong? Was he depressed? I will never know. All I could do was learn to accept the pain I have to live with. Of course it is hard sometimes, especially when I see things that remind me of him, but I also have to remember all of the good times we had together. This has taught me that I need to check in on my family and friends often, but also that it is important to speak out if something is bothering me. I have to be thankful for the time I had with my brother and realize that he didn’t do this to hurt my family and I. It’s just hard to deal with it when it was so unexpected. He was probably the funniest person I have ever known, as well as the best sense of style for a guy. My family is here for me, and I am here for them. We are helping each other heal and grow from this situation. I’m still healing, and I still will be many years from now. This is all still so recent, but after we heal more, we want to help others who are dealing with thoughts of suicide. No family should ever have to go through this, and suicide is never the answer. Someone is out there to help you, even if you do not believe that. Life is too valuable and short. No matter what happens, always speak out, don’t keep it in.
DeleteMy life has been a very interesting roller coaster. Sure, I have had my ups in life, like getting leads in the play, always having loving and compassionate friends, having the HOTTEST date at homecoming, always having a positive and joking attitude (most of the time) but as you all know, what goes up, must also come down. Now, the downs I have endured in my life are nowhere near what some of you have had to endure, but I have had my fair share. So, the burning question on everyone's mind, what type of hardships have this little Italian kid endured in his life? Well there are a bunch. Some, you guys may never know about, but im certain at least one of you in this room knows what im talking about so shhhhh. The biggest, and lengthiest obstacle I have endured was being bullied. And I dont mean, name-calling, picking on, teasing, I mean being BULLIED. Before being bullied, I was always a beaming light of positivity. In my family I was notorious for my overbearingly nice nature. Always giving hugs and kisses to all of my family. After all the years of name-calling, rock-throwing, head-smashing, belittling, etc, etc... I still remained positive and hopeful. I saw this as a lesson and wanted to be the opposite of those who belittled me. During the time of torment, home life wasn't going too hot either. All in all, the only way i saw for coping with all of this was by binging videogames. I mean, BINGING. I would eat sleep and breath videogames. With that, came unheatlhy foods that would accompany me on my nightly ventures in the world of xbox. This all seemed like a healthy coping mechanism at the time, but this just added more fuel to the fire.The bigger I got, the more I got made fun of, the more i hid in my world of games. it was a vicious cycle. At the beginning of seventh grade, I was in my peak of this cycle. Then the drama director said something that would, in turn, change my life forever. She suggested me to join drama. I can still remember, back to sixth grade. on the morning announcements, they would always announce drama auditions and ask "do you like to sing? act? dance?" And I used to think and go "no, no, and NO." So the idea of joining drama seemed irrational, but eventually, i figured to give it a try. And with the beginning of my theatrical career came the end of that vicious cycle. And yeah, I still have some scars remaining from the years of torment, but all in all, i stayed positive through it all. This taught me to be nice to others, always put their interest before you, so til this day, i try to always put others before myself. And thats the story. So happy this one wasn't deleted, like last week #ScrewBlogger. Well thats all for this week blog, enjoy the 5 day weekend.
ReplyDeleteThroughout my life, I have faced many challenges, as we all have. From moving houses, to losing friends, and the occasional boy drama. But there is one challenge I will continue to face for the rest of my life. April 24th, 2019. It was a normal day, our first day back from spring break. I went about my day as normal, but something seemed off. Things were weird between me and my on-again off-again boyfriend, Bailey. Usually, I wouldn’t stress about it because I knew he would end up facetiming me later that night, or texting me at the end of the school day. But, something in my gut that day told me I needed to talk to him. I went home, and my four-month old puppy, Colby, had a vet appointment to get some vaccines. I went to the vet, came home, did some chores, homework, ate dinner… you get the point. I didn’t have a free moment until about 8:45pm. I facetimed him, and got no answer. I texted him, and it didn’t deliver. I checked his location on Find My Friends, and his location wasn’t available. I figured his phone was just dead, or he was asleep. Anything but what had actually happened. Then, at 9:55pm, I received an email from Ms. Torres. Last year, I was very close with Ms. Torres, and since she had Bailey and I as students, she constantly heard about our issues from both of us. She emailed me with the subject, “Thinking of you…” and I was immediately confused. The email read, “Hey Amaziah...I am in disbelief over what happened to Bailey. I thought of you immediately. Just know that I am here for you if you want to talk. I am so sorry” I was so confused. Me constantly being the mom friend I am assumed he had gotten suspended or in serious trouble for something. So, I went in my room and became a detective. I searched his name, I looked for every recent police report, and then I looked at the nixle reports for our township. The most recent report, from Mizpah, titled “Fatal Crash”. I read through the article and immediately assumed it was wrong. Then, my house phone rang. My mom picked up and looked at me with disbelief in her eyes. I knew immediately. My heart sank and every memory flooded my mind. I didn’t sleep, I didn’t eat for days. I was never home, because it made me so upset, constantly thinking of the times he walked through my house with that big goofy smile. I spent majority of my days with friends. That weekend, I went to the site, where his closest friends hung out sharing memories. I listened for 45 minutes as they shared memories of Bailey being Bailey. One stood out to me and still does to this day. His friend, Billy, said “I just wanted to cry over him last night, and I couldn’t. He stopped it. He doesn’t want to see us like this.” And from that day on, I have tried to carry on his goofiness, his big smile, and his constant selflessness to others. He never failed to make me feel like I was the only girl in the world, and he always put a smile on my face. Now, this challenge was far from wanted. Never would I wish this pain on everyone. Grief is the hardest emotion, because it comes in waves and you never know when it will hit you. Some days I’m okay, others I just want to curl up in a ball and wish his name would somehow pop up on my phone saying some goofy stuff. From this, I learned life is short. Tomorrow is not promised. I became more appreciative of my friends and family, and learned to never hold grudges because you never know what could happen. My dad was my biggest supporter, he lost his best friend in high school too. He knew my pain. Bailey’s passing changed me. For the better. I’ve made forever friends, I’ve become closer to people I never thought I’d be close with. Although I wish this wasn’t how things ended, I’m happy with the effect it’s had on me and my outlook on life.
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ReplyDeleteEver since I turned 11 years old, every day has been a punch in the face. Maybe I'm being dramatic, but honestly, my words aren't far off. My mom, when I was younger, was dating this guy I absolutely loathed. He hated me too, and two wrongs don’t make a right. He stuck around for a solid 5 years and my mom only kicked him to the curb after he started indulging in the vape business. Or maybe it was the fact that his 16 year old daughter got pregnant and he proceeded to try and move her into our house, but who knows. A little after that, in the August before my 7th grade year, my dad decided it would be a good idea to drop dead on me. It wasn’t exactly heartbreaking, during his life he was a pretty bad guy, but it completely changed the look I had on death. If it wasn’t for me, it could have been months until he’d been found. I was the reason my uncle went to his apartment that day, nobody else cared. One is completely powerless after death, it's up to the living to carry on your memory. Death for me now has no effect, your born to die, everything you do in between will one day be forgotten so is it worth the worry? The leash placed around my neck by society has only gotten shorter, tighter. Choking me out for being a woman in a mans world, damaged and broken, deemed weird by my peers because they can’t see nor comprehend what I can. It’s unfair, and it unsettles me to my core. It all raises the question, are my efforts futile? Have my life turmoil made me un-fixable?
DeleteI'd like to think the series of unfortunate events that is my life has forced me to become smarter, the better version of myself. It all left scars though, deep cuts like I was impaled by the iron maiden herself. Im seething with rage and im tearing up with sadness simultaneously, at any given moment I may explode. Im used for the things I have and the work ive done. I have clawed my way up from the literal pits of hell, ive held myself together against all odds, and I am still getting beat up by everyone ive ever met. My journey isn’t over, and it won’t be until ive reached my peace, until I have the freedom to separate myself from those who hurt me. And if that means I have to continue to claw my way up then so be it, ill do whatever it takes to get better.
This is a bit difficult for me to talk about. The journey in question was 5 year long family struggle between me, my Mom, Dad, and his wife. Before Dad got married to Ang everyone was mostly ok (My parents were still friends and they could talk to each other about me, my sister, and other problems. Ang was very controlling, but I dealt with it the best I could.), but after the marriage everything went downhill quickly. Ang pretty much ( along with Dad) cut ties with Mom due to Ang’s insecurity and dislike. Their relationship with my Sister (who was living at their house at the time), completely fell apart. They treated her as if she was my age and at the breaking point, they tried to make her sign a household living contract ( trust me it was restrictive and awful). She soon moved out and that left just me. Ang’s level of pestering, control, and constant displeasure towards me skyrocketed, which made it almost unbearable to live there. Ensue a long custody battle over parental disagreements between Mom and Dad over me, and after a few months the order was given. I was so greateful it was finally over. ( The verdict set the days I spent with Mom and the days I spent with Dad, and stripped Ang of her “parental” power over everything. It took a lot of forgiving, reflection, and patience for me, but I got through it all because of my friends and other family. Initially the experience change me for the worse as I was very depressed and had low self esteem, but overtime I had a bit of a personality change and I saw the sunrise thanks to talking to my Mom a lot. I learned many things from this experience ( forgive but never forget, I seen enough sh** to become hardened/ mentally tougher, and that life is the greatest thing to experience.) As of now, the relationship between me and Dad+Ang is okay. Ang doesn’t really bother me to much anymore and Dad is just kind of there. Maybe one when I’m much older, me and him can talk about everything over a drink.
ReplyDeleteHonestly I have had a good life. Until recently I have not lost anyone I was really close to and I haven’t had anything go really wrong in my family. I treasure that with all of my heart however my world right now is falling apart so I would like to say that I am currently on my hero’s journey. Almost a year ago I started having panic attacks. I had four of them in the span of three months. Recently I have had two more. Somewhere along this timeline I had a concussion and when I went to get my head checked out they asked not only a lot of physical questions but emotional ones too. I HAD been feeling sad lately, I HAD been more emotional and more stressed which was something I had ever experienced. I was waking up in the middle of the night almost every half hour, constantly unable to sleep. I was recommended to a psychiatrist and I was diagnosed with anxiety. They sent my mom a couple of different therapists I could go to in order to continue dealing with this. Since mid-August, I have been going to therapy and I realized how, deep down, I had a lot of problems that needed to be dealt with. There is obviously a lot of mental fortitude that goes into this because it is all in my head. I am currently reworking the entire way that I think because apparently it’s “unhealthy” to think that perfection is expected and anything less isn’t worth my time. Who knew. It’s so hard because I have to think about what I’m thinking and make sure it isn’t causing any more stress than I already have. I think I was equally pushed and willingly walked towards this journey. If I didn’t have a concussion I don’t think I would have ever ended up with a therapist. At the same time I chose to go to therapy because I knew I couldn’t fix myself. I have learned a lot through this journey and not just about myself. I honestly have learned just as much about the people around me and what the world sees as mental health. A lot of people I trust have asked me multiple times if it really is anxiety and not just teenage stress. They have told me it can’t be anxiety because I get out of bed and continue to live a normal life. It’s like nobody trusts what I tell them. About myself, I have learned that I am more messed up than I thought. I tell people about the way I think and they are horrified. I never really processed the fact that not everyone in the world thinks in my terribly unhealthy way. This experience has definitely changed me for the better. If I did not go to therapy then I would probably not be able to function because like I said in the beginning, my world is falling apart right now. I am becoming a better person through this struggle and some small part of me is happy that I had to go through this.
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ReplyDeleteIn order to understand me, and my situation, you have to know some things about my mother. She did not have a good childhood growing up and I believe that it has reflected down on me. Growing up, her parents (my grandparents) were never together. Her mother lived in a town outside of Philadelphia while her father lived in the city. Her mother remarried and her father was in and out of her life. From stories that I have been told, even from her herself, my mother was a troubled child. She was constantly in trouble at school, always involved in fighting and teen drama. She didn’t have a good relationship with her mother and she fought with her, verbally and physically. She had a toxic and controlling stepfather who over disciplined her (which looking back now, I find it ironic because she put me through the same situation.) My mother also involved herself with the wrong group of kids and ended up getting in even more trouble. By the age of fourteen, she moved out of her mother’s house and into her father’s. Her father was way less strict with her which resulted in her getting pregnant at the age of fifteen, and giving birth to me at the age of sixteen.
ReplyDeleteAccording to her, my father was never around when I was a baby, he only was involved in my life once my mom decided to have another child when I was four. They had my brother and worked well together being parents. Like any normal couple they fought, but I don’t remember it being anything too bad, until one day they fought, my dad left, and never came back. I was eight then. My mother has always been the “go getter”, she worked incredibly hard to provide for my brother and I. Of course, being a single mother, she struggled at times but she always found a way to make sure we were okay. When she got pregnant as a teen, she was forced to drop out of school, but later she went back and received her diploma. I give her so much credit for raising us practically on her own.
Even though she was like a super mom, working two to three jobs at a time, she sometimes needed help. She would turn to her family and this always resulted in us having to move closer to or even in with them. When I say sometimes, it was more than just a few times, we constantly moved. During my childhood, I had been put into so many different school districts that by the time I hit 9th grade I had been to my 9th school, Oakcrest being my 10th. I don’t blame her for being unstable, but I do blame her for getting lazy.
Sometime after my dad left, she met a guy who she later married. After years of being single and struggling to provide for her children, she got tired of being the “go getter”. Once she met a man who was willing to take care of her and her kids, she stopped trying. Little did she know that it was all a trap. He convinced her to stop overworking herself and to let him take control and be the father figure. We moved back to Philly to live with him and become a “happy family.” In the beginning, everything was fine, until it wasn’t. This man who she let take control of all of our lives, ended up being toxic. He cheated, lied, abused alcohol and drugs, became abusive (physically and mentally), and honestly ripped my family apart. She tried to leave, so many times, but nothing ever “worked”. We would leave and stay with family but then he would just follow, cause trouble at their home, which “forced” my mom to cave in and go back.
DeleteAfter so much disturbance, all my mother’s friends and family got tired of the situation (her “leaving” to just go right back) and cut ties with her, except for her oldest sister. Unknowingly, they made life worse for my brother and I, because we had nowhere to go, we had to stay with our mom and deal with her husband. (You may be thinking, what about the police? He was breaking the law, why didn’t he go to jail? He’s been to jail multiple times, but my mom was always there to pick him up when he got released. She always went back.)
My mom’s oldest sister was the only person who kept her door open for us. Every weekend, my mom would drop us off at my aunt’s so that we can “avoid the chaos” at home, only to have to go back Sunday night and deal with everything.Life at my aunt’s wasn’t perfect, but it was an escape from the toxic lifestyle I was forced to live in. Unfortunately, my aunt passed away in 2016. It tore my heart apart, she was literally the only one there for me. After that, things at home got worse, I now had no escape.
After being unstable all throughout my childhood, this toxic relationship made it worse.
I went to two different middle schools, and then went up to highschool. (In the city, it’s
much different than here. There wasn’t only a few high schools to choose from, there were
a bunch, so I didn’t go to high school with my friends from middle school.) I have always been advanced when it comes to school work (which in my mind makes no sense, since I never stayed in a stable school district). All of the chaos at home, was obviously distracting but I never let it affect my school work. I would put all my focus into school because I knew that was my “way out”. I would do good in school, get accepted to a decent college, get a good job, and be absolutely nothing like my mother. Everything was going as planned until I went to high school. As I have mentioned in a previous blog, I got accepted into a very high academic,college preparation school, so everyone who got accepted was extremely smart and was required to be a good student. Knowing this, I knew I needed to step my game up and continue to get good grades. I needed to, this school was my path to a good college, I couldn’t do bad, I couldn’t let myself lose this opportunity. However, things at home got worse, (you may think how could it possibly get any worse, trust me it did.) This time, going to a difficult school, all the chaos did affect my school work. I am not one to sit here and blame something else for my failure, I could’ve worked harder, I could’ve done better, but I completely lost myself.
I mentioned in last weeks blog that I have hit rock bottom, and this time period was when my life was falling apart, completely. I had no one to turn to (no friends and no family), my relationship with my mom was terrible (she continued to make horrible decisions that affected my brother and I), I had to take care of my brother because my mom was barely around, and on top of that I was failing school. Yes failing, the classmate (or student) that sits in the same AP class as you, was once a student who didn’t do any school work and failed tests. My GPA suffered greatly.
DeleteI could only take so much more of all this lifestyle, I gave up on myself and was beyond depressed. Then, I found a way out. My mom never had a healthy relationship with her mother, so therefore I wasn’t allowed to have a relationship with her. However, during a time where my mom’s husband wasn’t around (during a time where she “was done” with him), she allowed me to be in contact with my grandmother. It was Christmas time during freshman year. My mom knew Christmas that year was going to be bad so she thought that the least she could do is let my grandmother help. During this time, I was the only one talking to my grandmother, my mom didn’t want anything to do with her, however she made me lie to her. I wasn’t allowed to tell my grandma about the stuff that happened at home, I had to lie about school, I had to lie about my brother’s behavior. Until one day, Saturday afternoon, during a weekend my mom let me stay at my grandma's (here in Mays Landing), I broke down to my grandma and told her everything. Everything.
She obviously didn’t let me stay with my mom much longer, the only reason she allowed me to go back because she had to do everything legally through the court system. By the following Friday, I got a call from my grandmom and I walked out of school midday. We picked my brother up from his school, went and got an emergency custody order and left. I never went back. I left Philadelphia with the clothes on my back and the school bag I brought to school that Friday. I left everything.
My mom was obviously not too thrilled about her children moving out behind her back, but very easily she stopped trying. She didn’t even show up to court months later to fight for custody. She let us go and I let her go. Our relationship today is honestly non existing. Every now and then I’ll get a text from her, but I don’t count on her to be there for me.
I have learned so much from growing up with this lifestyle. This wasn’t just a year’s worth of pain for me, this was my life. I know that my past is apart of me but it does not dictate my future. It took me a lot of healing to be able to be where I am today, and I honestly don’t know how I am sitting here writing about everything I’ve been through right now. I know that I can never lose myself the way I did. I know how to be independent, I know not to depend on anyone, especially a man. I know to never give up, even though in a sense I did, but there was always a small part of me that knew my brother and I deserved more. I know how to be grateful for all the little things because there was a time where I had nothing. I know how much strength I have, I was constantly being knocked down over and over, but each and every time I stood back up. I know that I was put through all of that for a reason, because now I look at myself differently because now I know my worth, I know how I deserve to be treated.
My life was fairly easy growing up. I lived with my mom, brother, mom, and dad. Nothing really began happening until middle school. I had a friend pass away that was very close to me and it definitely hit me hard. Then, high school came along and I was fine with it. Freshman year wasn't hard, sophomore year wasn't very hard either, until the summer going into junior year. I learned a lot about my family that I would've never known. My parents kept secrets from me and my siblings for our whole lives. I've recently found out in May that I had another brother, half brother, I was very shocked and confused on why I was never informed on this. About two months after I found out, my sister moved on. Which really made me upset. It wasn't a "happy moving out". My parents don't really get along with her very well, and she thought she'd be better somewhere else. Heather really stood me down and made the house feel comfortable and like I could have somebody to to talk to at any time. Now, it's slightly harder to be around her because of all the drama. But, other than that, to myself, I wish I could think before speaking, and then everything will mostly be okay.
ReplyDeleteI do sometimes think my life could have gone better but that is the wrong attitude. Some people believe that my life is perfect or always happy at school and I even get that at work, literally, customers say " You are always happy, did you ever have a bad day?". The answer is yes I had my share of Trials and Tribulations and seasons of sadness. And I thank God for pulling me through.
ReplyDeleteI would say my journey started at age 9, May 15, 2011. It was Sunday afternoon, my grandparents were driving me. my mother and two sisters home from church; my dad was at work at the time. My grandpa was on the highway, the next thing I knew as I was laughing at a joke my sister made she crashed into me and everyone moving in a circular motion at a fast rate. When I opened my eyes my mom and my sisters were on top of me. My grandparents were upside down in and my grandmother was calling on JESUS name. I cried because of the weight of everyone on me and I couldn't move. I saw a black woman approach the car crying and gathering more people to help us. They got my sisters and me out of the car. My eldest sister Chadae cheek was very swollen like a huge lump on her face. My youngest sister Jasmine had a little scratch on her knee. And my back was covered with glass and my side was ripped the shreds gushing out blood (Eventually it healed and now its a forever mark). I don't remember the hospital beside Dad picking us up sobbing in tears. When my sisters and I got home my dad told my sisters and me four words you would never want to here come out your father's mouth." Your mother passes away". Words can't express the feelings I felt. My sisters started sobbing and all I could feel is numbness.
A couple of days later my sisters and I stayed at my uncle's house while they check up on my grandparents at the hospital. My sisters and I would constantly grieve and tell our happiest memories with our mother. 5 days later, my dad, aunt, and Uncle came home crying. My sisters and I rushed downstairs confused and my Dad said our grandfather just passed. I didn't know what to do anymore, at this point it felt like the weight of the world was on me. At one point I did feel God was not listening and forgot about us. later I will learn he never did.
Then dad talked to us because he knew we couldn't handle all the things that just happened. He explained in tears of joy it was NOTHING but God who saved my sisters and me from the accident. The police even said it was a miracle. The back seat my sisters and I were in was completely torn off and flattened. I was surprised and confused about how did we survive. I later learned God has big plans for me and that forever mark is God's reminder to keep sharing this testimony to other people. This testimony will forever change me and I pray it will change others
God has played a big factor in getting me through that trial. I know there are more trials yet to come and I know God created me to be a fighter. When I hear the voices of the enemy telling me I can't get through things I tell myself the Devil is a liar and I serve an almighty and powerful God.
I had a pretty normal life until this past year, where I had some pretty dramatic events happen in my life. Now my parents had split, and gotten a divorce when I was about 9 years old, and it was tough, my brother stopped talking to my mom, and as a 9 year old kid it was so weird not seeing my parents together. Neither of my parents financially could afford to live on their own, still supporting me and my brother. My Mom and I moved into my grandparents house, for 8 years until moving out this past summer. Every weekend I went over my Dad’s, now at this time he was still in our old house, and he eventually had to move out to my Aunt Sally’s house. My Dad lived in many different places before he finally found a place in EHT, that he could afford living with his lifelong best friend, my Uncle Joe. Fast Forward too 2019, and it’s my sophomore year of high school, and my life is going great. My grades are amazing, I started dating wonderful girlfriend, and I had just came off a great wrestling season. Now my Dad my whole life had always supported me no matter what sport’s I had played, now wrestling he really didn’t know anything about, so he couldn’t give me pointers or anything, but he came to all the matches he could, and supported me until I was out of that tournament. Now it’s late April and I’m in the middle of practice, and I ge a call from my mom, and during my water break and go over, and call her back, and she told me some god awful news, and that was my dad was at the hospital, and he was in the ICU. Now prior to all this, my dad had terrible back pain, got so bad, that he couldn't sleep 4 hours without getting up and walking for a little, or he couldn’t be on his feet to long. He was on some medicine that made him very drowsy, so for my safety if he was on it my mom wouldn’t let me drive with him, so I barely saw him, because of that and my very busy schedule. A few weeks go by, and he’s not getting better, not much is looking good. May 1, 2019 my father had passed away. This had been my first time ever experiencing the loss of a close loved one. That’s not the end though, two weeks later my grandmother had passed, and my grandfather a week later, three of some of the biggest people in my life gone in a matter of days. Now at this time I was just numb to the feeling, I didn’t know what to feel. Id say I'm pretty religious person, Im a Roman Catholic, and was freshly confirmed the year prior, but after all this loss I was questioning my faith. Why me? Why all of these important people in my life? And I even questioned if there really was a God. Through this journey, so many people had reached out to me, people I haven’t talked to in years sending their condolences. Sadly, it’s finally hit me months later their really gone, but it’s really changed me. I realized you're not here forever so do what you love, not the person to the left of you. More importantly though, spend time with the people you love, cause they won’t be here forever. If I could go back knowing what my life would be today, I would make sure to tell all three of them how much they meant to me, but also how much I loved them. Sadly, they weren’t the only people I lost, 2 uncles my Uncle Tim, and my Dad’s best friend Uncle Joe, but at least I know they’re together, that’s what matters to me.
ReplyDeleteWhen my brother announced he was going to be moving to Georgia at a family dinner, the whole room seemed to stop what they were doing. Everyone fell silent and quickly lifted their heads. I first looked at my dad who at this moment was showing no emotion to what my brother had just blurted out. I remember asking him if he was serious. Theres no way my best friend could be moving that far. I remember all the exact thoughts that ran through my mind. How will he come see me when I need him, how will I know if he is ok? My brother lived in the neighborhood next to mine, he was never too far. Even though my brother is 12 years older than me, I have always wanted to protect him and have always been super over protective. Analyzing every girlfriend he brought home (even though I was only 10 and ovbiosuly had no say. It was extremely hard for me when he eventually did move. I was in denial and thought for sure he was going to come back home in no time. I was self conflicted. I wanted him to absolutely hate it and move back home, but at the same time, I wanted him to love Georgia because I knew thats what he really wanted. It has been 2 years since he moved and I have learned to be ok with it. He comes home every year for my birthday because he says he doesn't want to miss it. He tries to make it up for the holidays. I have also had to come to terms with knowing that I won't hear from him as often as I used to. Is job has weird hours and he has a whole new life in Georgia. This situation didn't change me and I of course had my parents who were going through the same thing as me, their oldest just moved to Georgia. I'm now happy he made the decision he made because I see how much it has changed him.
ReplyDeleteThroughout my entire life, I have constantly suffered from anxiety, both social and generalized. Ever since I was around five-years-old, I found myself picking at the skin around my nails; I’ve never been able to stop. I just do it as a way of coping with my anxiety and stress. Whenever I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed (or a lot), I resort to fumbling around with my fingers until they bleed. I’ve tried to stop by wearing rubber bands around my wrists to snap if I caught myself doing it. Didn’t work. I’ve tried to use stress balls or other items to fidget with in times of need, but that didn’t work either; mainly because I don’t want other people thinking I’m weird for needing that sort of “life line.” See, that’s another problem that I have with myself; I fear judgement, and I never (ever) want to be the center of attention or the name behind someone’s muttering lips. Ironically, my anxiety causes me to endure more anxiety because I fear others judging me based on my anxiety. It’s just a never ending cycle. I feel that one of the reasons for my intense anxiety would be my father (God bless him) continuously going in and out of hospitals. In my younger years, however, I didn’t really know the severity of what was going on. All I really understood was that my sisters and I would be spending another week at grandma's. We didn’t know that our dad was ill and at risk of dying. When I was two years old, my father almost died because of ITP, a serious blood platelet disorder. He was quarantined in a hospital for about a month until it became under control with serious treatment, including having his spleen removed, in hopes for his blood platelet count to go up; which they did. When I was three years old, my dad was brought into the hospital for an infectious disease found in his legs, causing him to be not be able to walk. After that, he received IV treatments at least four different times in three years. When I was six years old, he went into the hospital for chest pain and stayed there for two weeks, learning that he had a heart condition and was put on blood thinning medication to lower his risk of a heart attack. When I was seven years old, he went into the hospital for not being able to breathe, with chest pain, and found out it was from a contusion from a serious car accident, years prior, when his chest hit the steering wheel. Three years later, when I was ten years old, my father went into the hospital for stomach pain and discovered his gallbladder had ruptured. Since his organs were hard as a rock, they couldn’t remove his gallbladder; which led him to needing to have a choly tube connected to his bile duct to safely bypass any infectious fluids inside of his body. My dad was released from the hospital on the night of the Derecho Storm, which caused more stress for everyone. He had that tube for the next eight weeks after and had to empty the bag connected throughout the day. When he went back to the hospital to get the tube and gallbladder removed, the surgery was unsuccessful. Doctors suspected cancer because his organs were still as hard as a rock. My father then went to a hospital in Philadelphia with a team of expert physicians in cardiology, oncology, hematology, and gastroenterology, along with a liver specialist, to safely remove his choly tube and gallbladder. After the surgery, the doctors told him that he was extremely lucky that they only had to remove a portion of his liver, along with his gallbladder and choly tube. My dad was also informed that he was clear of cancer. The doctors told him that he was one of the rare patients to actually survive it all.
ReplyDeleteRecently, when I was 14 years old, my dad went to the hospital with bad stomach pain and discovered that he had pancreatitis. He was in the hospital for a week with treatment. In the same year, my dad went to Urgent Care and was then transported to the hospital when he lost his track of breathing and had pressure in his chest. Once at the hospital, he was informed that he had congestive heart failure. The doctors had to remove fluid from around my dad’s heart and he was put on an oxygen machine, which he still has to use today. The doctors informed us that they were lucky to save his life in the condition that he was in, and with that, my family and I are extremely grateful. The most recent occurrence was back when I was 15, my dad had to start going through chemotherapy for acute kidney failure; this was basically caused by his compromised immune system from having his spleen removed. He wasn’t a candidate for dialysis or a transplant, so chemo was the most that doctors could do for him. To this day, my father is still going through chemotherapy, but he’s a fighter, that’s for sure. Throughout that whole experience, I continuously became more anxious and stressed, as I never knew what was going to happen to my father, whom I love(d) incredibly much. That all just made me, as a person, filled with unease and fear, which became predominant in my everyday habits. On top of my dad’s struggles, my grandma was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer back in August of 2018. I was devastated, as someone else, who I loved so so so so much had to go to the hospital and endure painful treatment. Unfortunately, my grandma only lived about two weeks after her diagnosis. Those two weeks were the worst weeks of my entire life. Everyday I was filled with dread and fear; fear of when she might decide to pass over into Heaven. My grandma was always there for me, and I honestly considered her to be my second mother. It hurt so profusely bad to visit her in the hospital and see what she was going through; she was like a whole other person. I cried everyday knowing that she suffered in silence FOR MONTHS before finally going to the hospital. I know that she did that because she didn’t want it to be real. I wish that it wasn’t real. Those two weeks, and everyday after her passing, my anxiety was at an all time high, and still is. I realized how bad it hurt to lose someone so close to me, and now I fear for when that’ll happen again. From this entire experience throughout my years on earth, I learned that you can’t take life for granted. I know that I wasn’t the person holding onto life in the hospital multiple times, but as of right now, I can say that I see life from a new perspective. I know that sometimes I think that I don’t want to live anymore, but looking back on what my father has been through, I realize how important it is to live life to the fullest. You only live once. Now I understand the true meaning of “yolo”; the saying that the cool kids of 2011 worshiped. You never know when your time will come, or someone you love’s time. I have finally approached the realization that I should spend time with my loved ones and focus on truly living.
DeleteI would say that I've lived a pretty normal life so far. There have been a few bumps in the road, but nothing compared to some of the heartbreaking stories I've already read from this blog post. I'm so thankful that I haven't had many huge struggles to deal with throughout my life, but I think the biggest struggle was my parent's divorce. When I was younger, my parent's love seemed so amazing to me. They used to do everything together and seemed inseparable. Like any married couple, they had little arguments but they always moved on and got over it. However, when I was in the fourth grade they had one huge fight that ended up ending it all. At the time, my little brother was a grade below me and my two older sisters were in high school, around 16 and 17 years old. My brother and I weren't at an age where we really knew what was happening, but my sisters definitely did. I remember my parent's screaming at each other in the kitchen as my one sister, Brittany, kept my brother and I in her bedroom and tried her best to distract us from all of the fighting. My oldest sister, Alexis, would try to calm them down and stop the fight, which was pretty impossible at that point. After what seemed liked hours of yelling and banging all over the house, I walked outside the room where my dad was no where to be found. My mom was a wreck and so were my sisters, my brother and I just completely confused. I expected my dad to come home later that night, but he didn't. It was a few days later that my mom finally explained to me that they were getting divorced. Then, I was still confused as to why it was all happening but as I got older I was able to piece it all together. It was really hard at first for my siblings and I to adjust to only seeing my dad every other weekend, but now it's pretty normal to me. Looking back on it now, I feel even worse for my mom, she was the one who had to make the biggest adjustment. My dad was the main source of income for us, my mom only bar-tended nights just for a little extra money. She had to completely restart and now was a single mother who had to provide for four kids. That's why my mom is the strongest person I know and my biggest role model. She did it all on her own. On the other hand, the divorce did cause my siblings and I to drift away from our dad a little bit. Throughout the years though, and especially recently, my dad and I have gotten closer than we've ever been. What I've learned from this journey is that whatever is meant to be, will be. However upsetting it may be sometimes, I guess my mom and dad weren't meant to be together forever. I'm still so thankful for all of the good memories I do have of when they were together though. I do think I changed for the better throughout this journey because I think it made me a lot stronger and more independent. My "guardians" in this journey were definitely my sisters. They are my absolute best friends and my biggest supporters. If I didn't have them when I was going through this rough time, I don't know what I would have done.
ReplyDeleteEvery ones journey is different from one another. It's what makes each of us distinct and unique. Each one of us has been down our own path of challenges, obstacles, and set backs. But the common theme is that we persevered and overcome the inevitable, and created the person who we are today. For myself I lived in a so called "normal life." That doesn't mean I didn't go through mistakes and regret. To me family is one of the highest priority. But parts of my family don't live close to me like other people have. Specifically my grandmother lived in a country is Asia called Vietnam. I have only seen her once in my life when I was 7. So years and years pass and time after time my grandmother would call asking when will we visit her again. And time after time I had the same answer "we will soon grandma. I am just busy here (America)," not knowing our time together was shortly ending. So finally in the summer of 2016 years of conquering school and activities my family and I have decided to invite my grandmother to America for her to experience the "American Dream." Finally I thought after 7 years not seeing her I can finally can catch up and show her a new land. But god or whatever supernatural being had different plans. That very night that she was suppose to board the plane, my family got a phone call from my aunt. Then uttered the words that my grandma was in the hospital. I was worried. My father pacing still on the phone. Five minutes pass and my aunt told my father that my grandma passed from heart failure. My dad burst into tears. My mother ran trying to comfort him, but I just fell to my knees into denial spiral. I thought there was no idea. That I was in some sick dream and if I opened my eyes it would be morning and I was in bed. But it was reality. I tried to convince myself that the doctors over there made a mistake and she was still alive. Imagine if that was true. Every single moment was in a blur I remember my mom packing our bags this time we were heading back for the wrong reason. Now in countries like Asia once a person is declared ceased the government wants the body buried the next morning, so we worried that we could even make the damn funeral. So that was stressful the idea of that okay I can't see her alive. Now your telling me I can't see her at all and have to result to looking in photo albums like if she was ancient historical figure. Luckily, however, we made it just in time. So funeral has passed and now 3 years later I don't live in denial, but in regret. I regret how I kept holding it off. Mistakenly thinking that we would have time and that there was still time let alone. Now I never take anything for granted especially time. I began to treasure time with other with my family. I never told anyone this story, so if you read these blogs know that your positivity and happiness not only towards me but to each other not only enlightened me during these still dark times. It also opened my eyes on that not only valuing time with family, but to also value the time I have with all you guys.
ReplyDeleteThroughout my life I have struggled with anxiety. My hero, the people who were there through it all, my parents/. My parents have been married for 18 years, they were high school sweethearts. My parents started dating their senior year and I hear once in a while how they met and fell in love. My dad worked at an auto body shop and my mom bought her car there one day. They started talking about her car and I guess just clicked. I have heard about some arguments and break ups which every relationship has, but my mom tells me all the time to marry a guy like my dad. My dad does a lot for my family. He is on call 24/7 for work, he makes us dinner when my mom is busy, takes us to practice when he has other work to do, house work, and more. Both of my parents grew up with out their dad's because they past. My grandmother married her husband while my mom was in 4th grade. My dad's mom got remarried a while after his dad passing. Both of my parents are my hero because they have gone through things no one should go through. Through everything though they always put my brother and I first and they do everything that they can for us. Anything that makes my brother and I happy, they will try their hardest to do.Both of my parents work 5 days a week, sometimes 6 if they are called in for overtime. My mom started her own business which is super hard and stressful but she managed to run it for almost 8 years. She now works with my dad. My dad has had the same job since I was born, but it isn't easy. He works for a union owned fire protection company. He works a lot of over time and has seen people close to death on the job. They do so much for my brother and support us through everything. I am forever thankful for them, even when we fight. I know they will always want the best for me.
ReplyDeleteI would definitely say that I am at the end of my hero’s journey, but let’s go back to the beginning. I started to fall in the middle of my freshman year, where I developed anxiety. I was pretty happy with my life and I didn’t want anything to ruin it. This caused me to question every single move I made, every step I took, and every word I said because I couldn’t risk messing anything up. And because of this, I began to be super awkward when in a crowd, and the last thing I wanted was to have any ounce of attention on me. This anxiety started to affect me in multiple ways, from anything as simple as overstressing about my tests, to serious matters like affecting my relationships. My mom, nor did I want to experience the side effects of the anti-anxiety medications, so she bought CBD gummies. I know there are a lot of debates about taking CBD, however it’s helped me so much. Over the summer of freshman year, I started going down the wrong path. Although I was really happy, there was still something that felt missing in my life. Volleyball season was great, drama season was absolutely amazing, and choir was awesome. But throughout all of those happy moments, I didn’t feel 100% happy. Through my whole sophomore, I was in a dark place. I was never happy with the way I looked, and I tried to be like everybody else (my Sharpie ass eyebrows were NOT AS CUTE AS I THOUGHT). In order to cover up the fact that I had anxiety, I started doing things that a lot of students were doing that I was too afraid to do. I started sneaking out, hanging out with a bunch of guys, and befriended people who were very toxic to me. I paid more attention to my social status and reputation that my grades started to drop. I got my phone taken away for this, and my mom found a lot more on my phone than just low grades… This caused me to take a look in the mirror and realize what I was doing. After this, I started to wear less makeup, I cut off all of the toxic people in my life, and I didn’t get involved with anymore drama. This summer also impacted me because of work. Working in Atlantic City isn’t exactly easy, and the people you deal with at night can be… well… strange. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen homeless people taking showers at the beach showers, drunk people falling all over the boardwalk, and how many people I’ve had to chase down the boardwalk because they stole something. Honestly, work taught me to not only be strong, but to also be thankful for everything I have. I began to love and accept myself for the way I am, and nobody could mold me into what they wanted anymore. I’ve began to cope with my anxiety more, and take out all of the things in my life that made it toxic.
ReplyDeleteWhen I was in eighth grade my brother moved out of the house for good. I heard the loud arguments at night , the police at the door from time to time, the banging of doors and throwing of objects, but I never thought he would leave me to be the only child left in the house. He was only 17, how cold he do it on his own? When he left I was 13, I felt really lonely and didn’t really know what to do. I dreaded holidays, my birthday, and other moments that were usually spent with him. He decided to leave a couple weeks before my birthday which didn't make things any easier. My family didn’t hear from him for more than a year he went complete mia, but he started texting me about seven months after he left. When i was younger I always thought I wanted to be an only child, you’d think it’s great, more presents at christmas right? No. I cried at the fact that I couldn't spend christmas with him. I cried on my birthday because I missed him. I cried the night before graduating 8th grade because I knew he wouldn’t be there. After a year our family finally came back together but we have never been the same and he still lives states away. That was one of the longest and hardest years of my life. I felt really alone, unwanted, annoying, and blamed it all on myself. I didn’t gain much help from anyone because i felt stupid to talk about it. Your siblings always move out and grow up, we all do, so I figured no one would understand. But the way he left and not knowing if he was okay made everything 10x harder, which i also figured no one would understand. I talked with my mom a lot but mostly to help her and how upset she was feeling, i never really thought about how it made me feel. I sat back hoping he was okay, hoping i’d see him again, hoping it wasn’t my fault, and in complete fear and guilt for months on end. After overcoming this time period and still sorting through it i’ve learned a lot. I have grown in ways that has made me appreciate those who are in my life. I’ve mostly learned that you can’t take anything for granted. I took for granted having an older sibling to look after me and always be there for me. He isn’t around to do those things for me anymore and I can only hope it all happened for a reason.
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