"It is hard to fail, but it's worse to never have tried to succeed."-Theodore Roosevelt
This sentence holds true to me because for many years I have feared failing college but I am here now getting over my fear.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Monday, June 21, 2010
My Personal Essay Rough Draft
Living with an alcoholic parent was very difficult as a child. I never felt loved or love from the man who was my father. There were many arguments in my home and we never knew when an argument would occur. Thoughts of suicide was on mind constantly as a teenager I just wanted to die and escape the hell I lived in. The teenage years seemed to be the worst that I can remember he was out to sabotage me and the person I was. Mental abuse was his form of torturing me and making me feel I was not worth anything more then a piece of trash.
Childhood memories are not very fond ones. The man I called Daddy was just a sperm donor who made me. He never once told me he loved me or gave me any affection. Love was never shown between my parents, their marriage was one without love therefore it projected on to their children. Their marriage was not meant to happen however my mother was forced to marry by her father. They both created children out of no love just purely sex. My heart tells my father never wanted children however they had two. I was the first born child and he has always hated me up until today.
Living with an alcoholic father was very unpredictable as a child and teenager. We never knew when he would walk in the door drunk,constantly in fear every night of what may happen. No matter what hour of the night, school night or not we would be awoken from a dead sleep with him screaming at our mother or her yelling for help in fear he may hit her. Hitting was not common from my father however it happened occasionally. He was mentally abusive towards our mother and would call her very nasty curse words he could think of. His curse words were a projection of who he was towards our mother. There were so many times we would have to jump out our window or drive all night and sleep in our mothers car to have peace and quiet and wait until he passed out from his drunken stupor. Our mother did her best to protect us by trying to keep us out of the house as much as possible.
Suicide ran through my thoughts often as a teenager. Death was my escape I thought at that time to escape the turmoil in my family. Though the thoughts of suicide ran through my mind I could really never go through with it because of my Catholic upbringing it was a sin to commit suicide therefore I would rot in the flames of hell. Often I would be dramatic and let my father think I swallowed a handful of pills to see if he really cared and stop me, he never did. The way I coped with with emotional pain was through mutilation, cutting myself. It was a shameful secret I never revealed to anyone until recently.
High school was very difficult he was out to make me out to be a bad unruly daughter. Many times the guidance counselor would call me into her office to tell me how my father would call to complain about me that I was a bad daughter, little do they know he was the bad alcoholic father, I never told out of shame. There where a few incidents that were mentally abusive, for instant making me throw out my favorite jeans at the dump, hiding all my clothes so I would not go to school and the one that bothered me the most was him making me believe he took my high school sweethearts football jersey, made me go crazy looking for it while he had it the whole time. Many more thing occurred however it would be too much to tell.
This experience was hard going through as a child, there are worse scenarios out there however this experience was painful for me and as effected me until this day. They say as the child of an alcoholic parent you either become an alcoholic yourself or you gravitate towards men like your father. Though I have not become an alcoholic I still meet men like my father as much as I hate him. I struggle with this till this day with men and am trying to overcome this traumatic experience in my life.
Childhood memories are not very fond ones. The man I called Daddy was just a sperm donor who made me. He never once told me he loved me or gave me any affection. Love was never shown between my parents, their marriage was one without love therefore it projected on to their children. Their marriage was not meant to happen however my mother was forced to marry by her father. They both created children out of no love just purely sex. My heart tells my father never wanted children however they had two. I was the first born child and he has always hated me up until today.
Living with an alcoholic father was very unpredictable as a child and teenager. We never knew when he would walk in the door drunk,constantly in fear every night of what may happen. No matter what hour of the night, school night or not we would be awoken from a dead sleep with him screaming at our mother or her yelling for help in fear he may hit her. Hitting was not common from my father however it happened occasionally. He was mentally abusive towards our mother and would call her very nasty curse words he could think of. His curse words were a projection of who he was towards our mother. There were so many times we would have to jump out our window or drive all night and sleep in our mothers car to have peace and quiet and wait until he passed out from his drunken stupor. Our mother did her best to protect us by trying to keep us out of the house as much as possible.
Suicide ran through my thoughts often as a teenager. Death was my escape I thought at that time to escape the turmoil in my family. Though the thoughts of suicide ran through my mind I could really never go through with it because of my Catholic upbringing it was a sin to commit suicide therefore I would rot in the flames of hell. Often I would be dramatic and let my father think I swallowed a handful of pills to see if he really cared and stop me, he never did. The way I coped with with emotional pain was through mutilation, cutting myself. It was a shameful secret I never revealed to anyone until recently.
High school was very difficult he was out to make me out to be a bad unruly daughter. Many times the guidance counselor would call me into her office to tell me how my father would call to complain about me that I was a bad daughter, little do they know he was the bad alcoholic father, I never told out of shame. There where a few incidents that were mentally abusive, for instant making me throw out my favorite jeans at the dump, hiding all my clothes so I would not go to school and the one that bothered me the most was him making me believe he took my high school sweethearts football jersey, made me go crazy looking for it while he had it the whole time. Many more thing occurred however it would be too much to tell.
This experience was hard going through as a child, there are worse scenarios out there however this experience was painful for me and as effected me until this day. They say as the child of an alcoholic parent you either become an alcoholic yourself or you gravitate towards men like your father. Though I have not become an alcoholic I still meet men like my father as much as I hate him. I struggle with this till this day with men and am trying to overcome this traumatic experience in my life.
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