Personal Narrative Free Essays

Luckily my parents answered and they told e that they were not going to be home until the next day because they had to go to the hospital I to see a friend in need. K no big deal so IM home alone for a night, I should be fine; I am smart t and I can take care of myself. So I went home and took out the trash because that was my I sat chore. We will write a custom essay sample on Personal Narrative or any similar topic only for you Order Now Then I went into my room, which was called the â€Å"cave† because once went in; never r came out except for to eat and use the restroom. A few hours passed and I was hungry, I figure d since it was 7:30 should go make me dinner. I walked out to the kitchen and passed by the baa k door, it was wide open. I could’ve swore I shut it but maybe not, so I closed it again and proceed deed to make my dinner (Mac n’ cheese). While was eating kept hearing some weird shuffling noises In my back door. It was dark so I automatically thought who would be outside in the dark. I perceived it to be an animal so ignored it and finished eating. When it was time to clean up my dish noticed that I had left the door unlocked. Walked over to the door to lock it, t hen I froze. I couldn’t believe what I just saw, it appeared to me that a huge figure jumped ever my wall into the desert. After taking a sec to get myself together immediately locked the door and shut the curtains. Thought was crazy, that I was just seeing things. L went back into m y â€Å"cave† and started watching TV to try and get my mind off of what had just taken place. W ell it worked for a little while, until started hearing what sort Of sounded like foot Steps on the c repeat. I then locked my door and shut off the TV with the lights and tired to go to sleep. Lulled the e covers over my head and slammed my eyes shut. That didn’t help, at that point I knew I was n t crazy. Did see a man hop my fence, because I am now hearing shelves and drawers open in the e kitchen. The man must of came back, but how did he get in. Then it hit me, didn’t remember to hide the back door key under the mat when I got home; it was left sitting on the bench. After that realization, a million thoughts were going through my head. What was going to do? How w as I going to do it? Then the question that worried me the most was an obvious one. Was I go Eng to be alright? Those questions kept recurring as well as many others at an immeasurable RA e until it became dead silent in the house. For a moment Thought that he left, but I couldn’t ha eve been more wrong. Got up to check, but then saw the man’s feet underneath my door, h e walked right past it. It happened again, I froze, except this time I didn’t have time to gather ms elf, because the stranger was trying to open my door. It was locked, so he was rigorously jerk Eng the door knob trying to get in. With tears running down my face like waterfalls, knew that I had to do something or was going to be subject to this man. So I quickly ran to my win owe, opened it and ran out. Luckily for me , only had one floor on my house so I was easily able t o sprint down the street to my friends house where I felt safe. His dad walked down to my house e because he was a police officer and checked out the situation. What he found was my uncle, my parents did not tell me that they were sending my uncle down to my house late at night with a eek y of his own to check and see if was doing K. Turns out that it was nothing and I over react De. But it did make for one heck of an experience, with a great story to tell. How to cite Personal Narrative, Essays Personal Narrative Free Essays I would like to tell you about one of the funniest moments in my life. I was around fourteen or fifteen at the time. I had a friend by the name of Antione who was my best friend. We will write a custom essay sample on Personal Narrative or any similar topic only for you Order Now We did everything together, from going to school dances to weekend parties at other friend houses. None of that compares to what my friend Antione did to me one cloudy morning. One Sunday morning, I received an invitation from a friend of mine, Antione. I had come back from Chicago to my home place, Canton, Ohio. He invited me to lunch. I got up early in the morning and started getting ready. My sister gave me a cup of tea early in the morning. Then, I took my bath and got ready. My sister then again asked me to take some snacks and tea, but I refused to take it as I was more interested in reaching my friend’s house. She insisted that I have a heavy breakfast, but I ignored her request. I went out of my house and stood at the bus stop. I boarded the bus. The conductor came to ask me to buy a ticket. I asked him to give me a ticket for Harmont Avenue. The conductor frowned at me saying, â€Å"It is going in the reverse direction, you get down at the next stop and catch another bus. I was baffled for some time. Then, I alighted from the bus and again waited for the bus going to Harmont Avenue. I got the bus and reached Harmont Avenue, but surprisingly, when I reached his house, I found the door locked. I was puzzled and wondered whether I had come to the right place or not. After some time, a neighbor of my friend came and asked me, â€Å"Why are you standing here? Do you want to meet someone? † I replied, â€Å"Yes, I want to see Antione, living in apartment number fifteen. † He immediately quibbled, â€Å"But he changed his house last Wednesday and has gone to the south-side. Frustrated, I came back to the bus stop. I was feeling hungry. After some time, it started drizzling. I was now in a fix as to what to do. My confusion was compounded by torrential rains! Plus, I had refused to take morning breakfast, in the hope that I would take it at my friend’s house. At this state, my anger was mounting! I was cursing myself as well as my fate. But I controlled my anger. I made my mind up to meet Antione. An idea hit my mind. I called the south-side apartments. The person on duty gave me Antione’s address. I made my journey to his apartment. I rang the door bell. Mane, a tiny tot (Antione’s youngest brother), came out and greeted me with a â€Å"Hello uncle! † The moment I entered the drawing room, I saw the parent’s of Antione sitting on the sofa. They offered me a seat, and I sat comfortably. As I was about to talk about the invitation extended to me from Antione, Crystal (Antione sister) came with tea. She was looking like a pretty and vivacious lady. (Let it be known that I used to love this girl from my high school days and had written many love letters to her, making a proposal for marriage). How to cite Personal Narrative, Essays Personal Narrative Free Essays My Personal Narrative By Amber Moran A Time of Regret In 2010, there were a total of 32,885 fatalities due to automobile accidents in the United States. 10,228 of those fatalities were alcohol related. That’s 31% of all traffic deaths in the United States in 2010. We will write a custom essay sample on Personal Narrative or any similar topic only for you Order Now In Iowa alone, there were a total of 90 alcohol impaired driving fatalities and 12 of those drivers were under 21. Also, 75% of all alcohol impaired driving fatalities, the drivers BAC (blood alcohol content) was . 15 or higher. The legal limit is . 08. Finally, the 2010 arrest record in Iowa for alcohol related crimes is astonishing! 52 people were arrested for DUI or OWI (Driving while intoxicated or operating while intoxicated) that were under 18 years old. Total arrests for DUI or OWI that year were 11,548. There were 11,549 people arrested for drunkenness or public intoxication, and 252 of those were also under 18. I have to say that I have definitely learned my lesson from drunk driving. I am just grateful (and lucky) that I didn’t hurt myself, or anyone else for that matter. It was a little after 2:00 a. m. on a crisp Sunday morning in July. For a moment I was not sure where I was. I had forgotten that I fell asleep in my Jeep, which was parked in a private parking lot on 4th street in Sioux City. I could hear music playing and that is what made me remember that I was in my car. Earlier in the night I had met friends at Mac Behrs for a few drinks. I had not eaten all day and then I had one too many cocktails, (actually a few too many) so I was too intoxicated to drive. I had gone to my car while I was calling for a ride home. I made arrangements for a friend to come and pick me up and while I was waiting I got into my vehicle and turned the radio on and plugged my phone into the car charger so it would not die. I heard the man’s voice again. â€Å"Hello, Miss? I need you to step out of your vehicle please. † I was still a little dazed from just waking up so I snapped back at the man. â€Å"For what?! † After I spoke, I realized that I was too hasty with my harsh response because it was a police officer that I was talking to in that tone. As my eyes began to focus I could see that he was losing patience very quickly as he continued to approach my driver’s side door. In order to correct the situation, I immediately began to try to explain myself to the officer. â€Å"Sir, I am sorry. I was waiting for my ride to get here to take me home and I must have fallen asleep. Is there a problem with my being here? † He told me that he had received a complaint from one of the residents of the apartment building that used the private parking lot that I was parked in. That was when I noticed there was something on the inside of my door, as well as on the bottom of my pants, and there was a rancid smell. Apparently I had vomited and at some point had not made it completely out the window. The officer made me step outside the car and he gave me a field sobriety test. Of course, I failed miserably. I was arrested for an OWI (operating while intoxicated) even though I was not driving the car. The keys were in the ignition which shows intent to operate the motor vehicle. I was ordered to get a drug and alcohol evaluation, as well as, being placed on probation for a year, and the maximum fine. This is when I entered outpatient treatment 4 days a week. When I started treatment, I felt as if I was there for no reason. I didn’t feel that I had a problem. I was able to drink with my friends and not do anything stupid. This really was not true at all. There were many times that I would drink and then wake up in the morning not remembering anything that happened the night before. In the beginning, I honestly thought that I was being drugged somehow because I could not remember even a little bit of my night after a certain point. After a while, I realized that I was not being drugged, I was just simply drinking in excess, along with not taking care of my basic health needs. I would not eat for days, and all I would do was drink. I finally realized that I had a problem with alcohol after being arrested 7 times in less than a year. At that time, I had also admitted to myself that I was addicted to prescription pain medication as well. Mind you, I had been in treatment for a few months before I finally came to the realization that I really did have a problem, and I needed help. Once I came to this realization on my own, I was much more accepting of the help that was being offered to me. The hardest part about the entire experience was detoxing. I never could have imagined how bad it actually was. I did not go to a facility to detox, I stayed at home and did it. I felt like I was the most irritable person alive! The headaches that I got were the most excruciating pain I had ever felt (or so it seemed at that time). It was not the alcohol that was making this difficult, it was the pain pills. I was told that going through detox from prescription pain medication is the same as going through detox for heroin. When I finished detoxing, I had to learn how to live life all over again, in a completely different way than I had before. Looking back, I am ashamed of many of the things that I did while I was using. I’m sure if I could remember all the times that I was drunk and blacked out, there would be many more things that I would be ashamed of. Just to give an example of things I used to do, my mother has had breast cancer three times, and every time she would have a surgery, I would steal her pain medication. The person I am today would never do that to anyone, let alone my mother. I sometimes wonder if my experience in treatment would have been successful had I had different counselors. I was assigned 2 main counselors, one for addictions counseling, and the other for life skills. My addictions counselor, Jen, was also a recovering addict/ alcoholic and her drug of choice was the same as mine, which made me feel like she genuinely understood what I was going through and I seemed to â€Å"just click† with her. My life skills counselor, Lori, was a woman who I had known for a large majority of my life. Lori is a recovering compulsive gambler. It was very easy for me to talk to her about the things that were going on in my life and to express the things that I felt I needed help with. In my opinion, the one life skill that was most important for me to learn was how to be a better mother. I knew deep down when I was using that I wasn’t raising my son the way that I should have been, but I didn’t want to admit that. I have learned many things about being a mother, and the majority of what I have learned has been through trial and error. There really is no handbook on parenting. I found that when I was sober, I had more patience with my son, and I do believe that is one of the biggest keys for me. My son is extremely sensitive, and when I lost patience, I would yell at him and hurt his feelings. Looking back I felt like such a terrible mother. Then I remember that everyone has hard times and goes through rough patches in life. I am just glad that I finally admitted to myself that I had a problem, and especially while my son was still young so I had time to correct my wrongs. The skills that I was taught in treatment have helped me get to where I am today. Who knows where I would be today if I was still using. I am so grateful for the help that I received while I was there. Treatment and the people who were there changed my life forever, and for the better. Jen and Lori are my inspiration and the main reason I am currently going to college, so I can become an addictions counselor. How to cite Personal Narrative, Essays