My own self-deception was far worse than being deceived by any other walking mortal. I forced myself not only to go against the grain but, in a way, relinquished my own moral standards. That shouldn't have been palatable in the first place, but when rage, terror, and depression overtook my mind, my thoughts and decisions were unclear to me. My plan for a resolution was more of a problem-builder than a solution. The car moved so fast the more it seemed like I was consciously burning the bridge to home. While worthlessness and despair lingered, I slowly awakened to a frightening image of death. What I had done to be there, the mistakes I had made, still not wanting to go back home, yet homesick. Both willingness and unwillingness prevailed. I …show more content…
My world feel apart my family turned there backs all the pain flooded my insides with my grades dropping and overwhelming thoughts I was absent from school for self my house burned down all in my mind the to familiar smell of smoke enhancing with every breath I became closer each second to a mental brake. Traveling out of the state was not the plan but yet I still ask my self what did I aspect guiltiness still lies
Psychology attempts to provide insight on our lack of self-belief; however, the studies are mostly to no prevail. Subjectively, I believe our subconscious represents a more complex function than what is often portrayed. After all, it acts as a defense mechanism that has been pre-built into our neural network. As such, the capabilities of such a feature are near endless, though difficult to comprehend. To better understand our subconscious, we often simplify it through symbols - most commonly, heaven and hell. Studied throughout the text, symbolism of such representation is easy to interpret as it is presented through distinct quotes from the primary speaker - such as: “I heard sounds from Heaven and I heard sounds from Hell.” Incidentally, the quote also marks a set crossroads on the protagonist's journey of choice as he chooses which side to listen too - guilty or innocent. As expected, his later continuation in the text to commit heinous acts such as assault and murder, solidify his standings with the rebellious side of his conscious - as well as supporting the continuation of heightening the challenge presented by lack of self-trust. In support of this, renowned academic leader Douglas Horton is quoted speaking: “Conscience is the window to our spirit, evil is the curtain”. However, in select cases, the
Often when a person suffers through a tragic loss of a loved one in his or her life they never fully recover to move on. Death is one of hardest experiences a person in life ever goes through. Only the strong minded people are the ones that are able to move on from it whereas the weak ones never recover from the loss of a loved one. In the novel The Sweet Hereafter by Russell Banks, character Billy Ansel – having lost his family serves as the best example of brokenness after experiencing death. Whether it is turning to substance abuse, using his memory to escape reality or using Risa Walker as a sexual escape, Billy Ansel never fully recovers from the death of his twins and his wife. This close analysis of Billy’s struggle with death becomes an important lesson for all readers. When dealing with tragedies humans believe they have the moral strength to handle them and move on by themselves but, what they do not realize is that they need someone by their side to help them overcome death. Using unhealthy coping mechanism only leads to life full of grief and depression.
From first day of life till last, whatever a person strife for is nothing, but the end of all findings be death, that is inevitable. “If according to Freud, the subject pursues its own death, or is steered towards it by a drive for inertia, why not say suicide or masochism lies at the heart of life?” (Smith 67) If one is bound to die, than death with bravery and courage is better than death at the hands of enemy, which may even include nature or fate. “In this state and when confronted with hardships that makes life seem intolerable, suicide becomes a possibility.” (Lester 17)
I closed my eyes in order, it seemed to me, to help push it out, and took pleasure in growing languid and letting myself go. It was an idea that was only floating on the surface of my soul, as delicate and feeble as all the rest, but in truth not only free from distress but mingled with that sweet feeling that people have who have let themselves slide into sleep. I believe that this is the same state in which people find themselves whom we see fainting in the agony of death, I find that there is nothing like coming close to it.” “If you know not how to die, never trouble yourself; Nature will in a moment fully and sufficiently instruct you; she will exactly do that business for you; take you no care for it.”
Death’s whisper traveled in my ear, wrapping around my mind, “I can take you away from this madness. Beyond this hell, that is life.” “Will it be more peaceful there?” I asked. “As serene as heaven above.” Possessive Depression responded. My heavy heart fluttered at the thought of serenity. No more painful days, or lonely, restless nights. No more of this living death. Anxiety murmured all my insecurities tempting me to make the decision, as every tick-tock from the clock he held, echoed in my brain, putting fear in me of things that will never happen. I thought about the invitation to eternal sleep, “I would finally be able to extract this smiling mask…” Thus, I decided to join the dance of death, done dealing with my dilemmas.
“You got him! Nice shot man! You did amazing on it,” my brother congratulated me.
A lesson that I learned for good. When I was five years old and the year it was 2005. Me and my mother were home like any other day. It was a Monday morning and everyone left the house except for me and my mother. The reason why we were the only ones left is, because my sister was at the age where she could go to school. As for my father well he’s the man of the house so he has to go to work.
Happiness is fake, like something forced upon me; something not real, fabricated and I don’t like it. I’m supposed to like it though. I’m supposed to like everything the government forces on me. I feel like I’m the only person who doesn’t feel content with my life, everyone else seems to be perfect while I’m falling apart at the seams.
Who I think I am? I’m not exactly sure who I think I am or how to describe who I think I am. I tend to act differently around certain people. Constantly changing to try to seek approval. Constantly in fear of accidentally doing something wrong; that I might say something wrong and all my friends will abandon me or leave me for someone better. I think this fear came from when my best friend was taken from me. I had known her since preschool, but she had met another girl and she stopped talking to me completely. I’m in constant fear that this will happen to me again, so I struggle to be accepted. I don’t want to be forgotten again.
There is no truth without fools” (Delillo 304). Real death remains in the real, while the simulation of death is the “uniform, white” noise that alienates us from it and creates “an eerie separation between your condition and yourself” (Delillo 189, 137). The simulacra hides the truth of death temporarily, but it ultimately makes things worse as people, such as Jack, are less than prepared to face the real death when it comes, which it will eventually. The modern death is in fact a waste product, a leftover from the simulation. The society hides the real death away just like trash, both of which Jack finds dreadful.
It had come to the attention of my family that I had some sort of psychological problem and something had to be done. I was always labeled as a shy and quiet kid, and like my family I had thought nothing more of my behavior. However, now it had become something more obvious. I had told my parents the kinds of problems I was having. Basically I didn't want to talk to anyone or to be anywhere near anyone I didn't know. I didn't really want to leave my house for any reason for fear that I might have to talk to someone. I was so critical and scrutinizing in relation to myself that I couldn't even enter into a conversation. Everyone seems to have a part of themselves that lends itself to thoughts of pessimism and failure, but mine was something that was in the forefront of my mind at all times. Something telling me that everything I did was a failure, and that anything I ever did would not succeed. Through discussion with my family it was decided that I should move out of my parents house to a place where I could find treatment and get a job. I was to reside with my sister Lisa, her partner Brynn, and their Saint Bernard in Greensboro.
Everything seems like it’s falling out of place, it’s going too fast, and my mind is out of control. I think these thoughts as I lay on my new bed, in my new room, in this new house, in this new city, wondering how I got to this place. “My life was fine,” I say to myself, “I didn’t want to go.” Thinking back I wonder how my father felt as he came home to the house in Stockton, knowing his wife and kids left to San Diego to live a new life. Every time that thought comes to my mind, it feels as if I’m carrying a ten ton boulder around my heart; weighing me down with guilt. The thought is blocked out as I close my eyes, picturing my old room; I see the light brown walls again and the vacation pictures of the Florida and camping trip stapled to them. I can see the photo of me on the ice rink with my friends and the desk that I built with my own hands. I see my bed; it still has my checkered blue and green blanket on it! Across from the room stands my bulky gray television with its back facing the black curtain covered closet. My emotions run deep, sadness rages through my body with a wave of regret. As I open my eyes I see this new place in San Diego, one large black covered bed and a small wooden nightstand that sits next to a similar closet like in my old room. When I was told we would be moving to San Diego, I was silenced from the decision.
I was very excited to make a new step in my life, college. I came with high hopes and aspirations. My hometown is not near Arizona, It is Lake Tahoe, Nevada, so going home for the weekend was simply out of the question. I had a great time for the first month, enjoying freedom. However, I was sitting in my room one night writing a paper with my roommate, and one of my friends from home called me. She said that one of our good friends from high school had just committed suicide earlier that day. I didn’t know how to react to this; I was scared, and confused. Why did he do it? Why didn’t anyone know that he was unhappy? Was he unhappy? I felt regret, thinking I should have been there for him. Once the crying commenced, my mother called me telling me that my last grandma had gone into the hospital. She had collapsed in her apartment and was rushed to the emergency center. I had no idea what to do. I felt like God was just condemning me and attacking me for some reason. I went into this deep depression and I didn’t want anyone to talk to me, if they did, I would simply start crying. I was alone, and no one knew who I was. I was too far away from home to go to my friend’s ceremony.
There is a point in everyone’s life when they step back and realize “I can’t do this anymore, it’s ruining my life”. Many of my friends have started smoking cigarettes while drinking at a very young age, and continue to use this drug currently and don’t realize the affect it has on their future. While I have been smart enough to avoid smoking, I haven’t been as wise at making decisions when it comes to drinking. The amount of partying I’ve done in college has taken over my life, and has had a huge impact on my grades. Changing my drinking habits and continuing to avoid cigarettes will enable me to be the best I can be for the rest of my college experience.
Throughout this journey of life many outside forces manipulate whom all of us become. Who created my personal connotation? Through every relative, friend, and composition it boils down to me. I have taken all these beliefs and crammed them into a 6 feet, 2 inch frame. The real journey lays ahead, the journey from young adulthood to old age. I only pray this journey includes many travels and few destinations.