Personal Narrative Essay: The Life Of A Childhood

1016 Words3 Pages
bulb-icon

Recommended: Effects of physical child abuse on a child's mental health

There once was a girl who lived a happy life until the age of thirteen. Everything changed that day because that 's when her mother started emotionally, mentally, and verbally abusing her. The girl wanted nothing more than to be loved by her mother but that was not the case. Her mother thought that she was nothing than a worthless piece of garbage on the street. Every day the girl 's mom had something negative to say to the girl whether it was that she was stupid, worthless, or even someone who nobody wanted around. Every day the girl wished to be accepted by her mother, but she knew deep down that would never happen. The girl battled anxiety and depression disorder caused by her mother 's years of torture and abusive ways. The girl was on …show more content…

My most vivid childhood memories were of my mother screaming at me, calling me names, and putting me down. Occasionally, she would spank me. When she did, she would be so angry that she would lose control. When she would get angry with me, she would yell and call me names, purposely being hurtful. My childhood is filled with many memories. As long as I can remember my mother has been angry or depressed. Her temper was frequent and frightening and then the next day, we just “moved on”. My mother has never ever apologized for any wrongdoing on her part, for as long as I can …show more content…

It 's ludicrously ironic now, but as child her logic made perfect sense, and I reasoned myself out of blaming her. She was right. I was wrong. She only mocked me subjected me to strange accusations and verbal cruelty, and we had always done something, anything wrong. After years of constant uncertainty, belittling, and the mounting awareness that my mother was losing her grip on ordinary behavior, I was beginning to realize that I had been afraid. Without a trusted adult telling me in a multitude of ways that everything I did was suspect and somehow bad, I regained a shred of emotional security. I fully realize how strange it is that it took me so long to realize this was a form of abuse, but anything can seem normal when you don 't know anything different. It 's now clear why I looked forward so passionately to overnight visits with friends, and why watching them interact with their mothers, easily, lovingly, and unafraid, made me feel so cold and so perplexing ly angry. I was jealous of any parent-child relationship that wasn 't rooted in fear and uncertainty. On my darker days, I still feel that twinge of envy. Today I speak to my mother only sometimes, and never in any great depth. There 's nothing below the surface that would be pleasant to

Show More
Related

  • Mean Mother with a Hurt Daughter

    2052 Words  | 5 Pages

    Donaldson, Susan James. “Freud Was Right: Mean Mothers Scar For Life, Some Children Mired the Past, but Others Learned to Move on and Forgive Abusive Moms”. Parental Alienation Canada. ABC News, 7 May 2010. Web. 10 June 2010.

    Read More

  • Maslow's Hierarchy Of Needs Case Study

    700 Words  | 2 Pages

    Most children have unpleasant parts of their childhood, and I am no different. My parents divorced when I was very young, but my mom was able to keep us. This only lasted for a period of four years, then I was taken from my mom and given to my dad. It did not take long for my situation with my father to turn into an abusive one. My father did not abuse me much, but he stood back as others were more than willing to fill in for him.

    Read More

  • Examples Of Power Distance Essay

    1682 Words  | 4 Pages

    My mother moved to Virginia and I struggled with true feelings of loneliness and despair after my parents separated. According to a 2010 family journal, "Of all familial relationships, the mother–daughter one is most likely to remain important for both parties, even when major life changes occur, such as the daughter’s marriage or mother’s illness." I lacked the guidance and support of that I needed from my mother after she moved away. My siblings and I spent time with my Mother once a week on Thursday evenings. She would often arrive late and carelessly, which I took very personally. I didn 't feel that my Mother possessed strong credibility and found it difficult to believe her. Therefore, I became hesitant in following my Mother 's advice or listening to her requests. My mother attempted to gain back power by using coercive power. If I failed accept her influence she threatened a punishment, but if I listened there was a reward. For example, if she felt I was being ungrateful she would threaten to send me back home to my Father. My mother 's use of coercive power fostered a lack of trust and created a substantial amount of tension between my mother and

    Read More

  • A Norm In Elie Wiesel's El Salvador

    1613 Words  | 4 Pages

    Since I did not know anyone else was my mother. According to my sister, we lived in our house alone, without any guardian guiding, or caring for my siblings and I. We ate our meals at my Aunt Gloria’s since we did not have any food at our own house. Moreover, It was a norm in El Salvador, the male to abuse their wives and children. Our cousins were our bullies; they saw their own mother abused by their alcoholic father. I asked my sister Yenis recently, “Why our cousins bullied us?” She said, “When you did not finish your meal, they would force you to finish your meal by smacking you.” When I was slightly older, I remembered I was standing on a ledge my grandfather build to prevent landslides. When I was standing on the ledge, I was thinking about how tall the ledge was, I looked to my right at my cousin when he pushed me, forcing me to fall down to the bottom of the ledge. I remember going in and out of consciousness. My grandfather picked me up from the ground and brought me inside my grandmother’s house. During the time, my grandmother clamored at my cousin, Yessica, to get warm water and rags. I remember feeling the warmth of the blood dripping down the back of my head. My grandparents did not take me to the hospital with the limitations they possessed. As a neglected parentless child I became withdrawn and

    Read More

  • My Life Research Paper

    688 Words  | 2 Pages

    Soon thereafter my parents split up and I could feel their discord; like vibrations of hate upon snapping wires. They seemed to become somehow physically incapable of co-habiting the same spaces. It was as if something physiological that was once inside them was taken from them. Stolen was that strange organ that makes people feel the sincere need to be near someone else. As I grew older I began to observe my mother and her bizarre behaviors. Her anxious isolations and her pill bottle like a Xanax Barbie stuck to her hand. She was always so far away from me. I would sit and wonder where she would go; off to some corner of her mind where up was down and all the wrong in life was right. She was safe behind a closed door; in silence and stillness. I was always alone; and always lonely, with my mother in the next room. She may as well have been a million miles away from me. The older I got the colder the hugs became; it was like she was tired of faking it.

    Read More

  • Personal Narrative: How Were People's Childhoods

    381 Words  | 1 Pages

    How were people’s childhoods a long time ago? They did not have much thats for sure, I interviewed my grandma and found out. Many of them lived through special events as a child even though they might remember that well or even haven’t known about it even then. What type of friends did she have from school and home? Lastly how did they entertain themselves, because not everyone had as much toys or games as we do now, and money was kinda tight.

    Read More

  • Argumentative Essay About Homelessness

    1552 Words  | 4 Pages

    When I was younger, living in the south side of Chicago my mom and dad looked after me, my sisters, and my brother. My dad would occasionally drink too much whenever he had money. Sometimes he would get violent reminiscing on his past or the current past-present. One day my mom packed some of our clothes in our book bags. Then she rushed us out into the night. We wondered the streets as children and eventually made our way in to a shelter. We stayed several days and nights. We would visit my mom’s side of the family from time to time just to catch our breaths. Later during our wondering, travels my mom bumps in to an old friend. She fills him in on our situation and he lets us stay with him for a while. The two of them become very acquainted with each other. There is a problem. The building that her friend lives in does not allow children, or so we were told. To make matters worse he sees me and my siblings as a hindrance. We leave the apartment to look for a new place to rest or heads but this time the friend comes along.

    Read More

  • Personal Narrative- Using Art to Escape Boredom

    1650 Words  | 4 Pages

    Compared to some of the horrible stories of child abuse I've heard, my childhood was a Walt Disney fairytale, but in my own eyes I was an unhappy kid. I was born in 1972, which is the Chinese Year of the Rat (the rat's Chinese characteristic is to scavenge for survival, which is also a part of my personality). From old pictures, my fragmented memories, and tales told by my grandma Mildred, I was close to my parents during my first six or seven years, especially my dad. My dad, Richard, was employed straight out of college as an Aerospace engineer with the Logicon Corporation (where he still works to day). He married my mom, Loretta, (who also became an Aerospace engineer for Logicon) seven years before I was born. My parents fought almost every night as far back as I can remember, and I can still recall covering my ears with a pillow to escape their bickering. I've always sort of believed that it was my mom's fault, possibly because her voice was always the loudest screech I could hear. I know the blame should rest equally between them, but my mother was always so demanding and emotional while my dad was a quiet man who was able to control his anger unless really pushed. I think she was used to a lot of emotions in her past and would intentionall...

    Read More

  • Personal Narrative

    684 Words  | 2 Pages

    As I reached the age of a pubescent teen, she refused to subject herself to my abiding desire that she be my mother. When she returned from her protracted escapades, she would sleep for hours and microwave Salisbury steak meals for dinner. She would lash out with sheer animosity and I often found myself lying on the ground beneath the weight of her ring-fingered hand. I was no longer one of her children. If she and my father quarreled, she would scurry off with my sisters to get ice cream, leaving my brother and I to sit in our own constitutional

    Read More

  • The Shawl Analysis

    782 Words  | 2 Pages

    We were bounced between foster homes, for years. She tried her hardest to provide for us. The life a young mother is always hard, but even worse when there are two lives depending on you to not screw up. As a young adult now I can realize the sacrifices she made in hopes of giving us a better life .The problem was she was still not able to provide for basic needs. When I turned three I was taken out of her care. I grew up resenting her, I thought that she didn’t care enough to try to keep me and my sister. I learned that she did try, but somethings peoples efforts just aren’t enough. She struggled with depression for years after losing custody of me and my

    Read More

  • Personal Narrative: The Story Of A Child

    585 Words  | 2 Pages

    I never realized until this year how influential my niece, Makenzie Curry, is in my life. We are complete opposites and I find it astounding how we are even related sometimes, but I wouldn’t change anything. She was born only 2 months and 7 days after me, so we are really close in age. She’s the kind of person who has always been there for me when I needed it and she wasn’t just family, she was also my best friend. She is encouraging, caring, and inspiring. She has definitely helped shape me into the person that I am today.

    Read More

  • Example Of Pnocchio

    1239 Words  | 3 Pages

    My father told me that my mother had a hard life and had to take care both of her sibling after her mother was incapable being she came through her own divorce. I also learn that my mother doesn’t really communicate with her siblings because they don 't get along over simple little things and these disagreement can last for a whole decade. Before I left her, I told her that if I had kids, I wouldn 't teach my kids the same way as you did to me. My life has transformed form to a better adult with a greater maturity of sensitive subjects, taking responsibility over issues, wanting stability in my daily life, enjoying a committed relationship, and a comforting home

    Read More

  • Childhood Memories: Mom, Dad, and the Gang-Bangers

    1500 Words  | 3 Pages

    My mother was always involved with the wrong crowd, including gang members, drug addicts, and alcoholics. Her boyfriends were either in prison or just released. It was common for me to notice a new bruise on my mother’s arm before I could even understand how she got it. The boyfriends she had hit her and grabbed whatever objects they could to either swing or throw at her. At times I tried to help her by biting, hitting, scratching them, but I was so small that I easily got thrown against a wall or tossed to the floor. Then all I could do was cry and run to the neighbors for help. Whether the boyfriends were arrested or not, my mother always seemed to take them back. She was the type who put her boyfriends before others.

    Read More

  • Autobiography Of Childhood Essay: The Life Of Babyhood

    1153 Words  | 3 Pages

    Babyhood is the time from when you are born till you 're 18 months old. Like everybody else, I don 't remember anything at all from this time. Whatever I do know is from my parents, siblings and other family members. My mother told me I wanted to appear into this world earlier than I should have. If not for the medications that let me arrive at the proper time, I may not have been here today writing this very sentence. I was born on 19th December, 1999 in Gujarat, India. My parents tell me I was a very quite baby and never troubled them much at all. I would never start crying in the middle of the night, arousing the entire neighborhood. My older brother would often look at me, and state how huge my eyes looked. As a baby, I was very fair, and often was referred to a white egg. Everyone loved to play and touch my cheeks when I was a baby.

    Read More

  • I Am Woman, I Am Strong

    840 Words  | 2 Pages

    At the age of 11, my parents decided to reunite, and this became my lifelong struggle with trust, mistrust and development of strength and courage to achieve my dreams and goals in life. My mother continued to work long, hard hours while my father golfed, gambled and drank, to what most people would consider “the extreme”. During my school years, I ran our household while my mom worked. I made sure the house was clean and dinner was always on the table for my father, which left no time for a social life. My dad was abusive towards my mom and I would feel helpless as I listened from my room to him physically and mentally abusing her. After many years of not having the courage to help her, I finally at the age of 16 gave her an ultimatum. Either she leaves the abusive relationship or I would leave, so I would not have to endear the pain of it any longer.

    Read More

More about Personal Narrative Essay: The Life Of A Childhood

Open Document