Personal Narrative-My Personal Journey

Superior Essays
My Personal Journey
"Listen to what I say, my companions, though you are suffering evils. All deaths are detestable for wretched mortals, but hunger is the sorriest way to die and encounter fate."(Odyssey book 3) Circe is referring to Skylla, a monster, in this quote. But, she makes a point. Pain is unavoidable. I had to find that out the hard way. A way I wouldn’t wish upon anyone. I soon got out of it. I screamed to the monsters in my head, "What did I do?" just like Odysseus did when he was in the big, vicious sea. Soon, both of us stood up, took our fears by the neck and returned home.
High school is tough, as we all know. People are maturing and changing in good and bad ways. On the outside, people would describe me as a normal teenage
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I walked into my room and shut my door. I took a seat at my vanity, where I do my hair and makeup in the morning. This was my usual routine. But tonight, it was different. I brought a pill bottle filled with painkillers. I looked at it like it was gold. This was my escape. I took a moment to silently cry, feeling all the tears running down my face. I took one last look around my bright pink room. I was going to miss these little things. Such as my bed, my clothes, all my pictures, and things around the room that were mine. I was a person who got attached to things very easily. So, I knew it was going to be difficult. But I knew it had to be …show more content…
He stood up, put his foot down, and used every will in his body to survive those high currents, nasty God’s, and rough waves. I was somewhat like Odysseus in that moment. I stood up and walked calmly to my father. He saw my face and asked what happened. I fell to my knees and sobbed out, "I did something bad". Next thing I know there were 3 police officers in my house and a paramedic walking me out. They carefully put me in the back of the ambulance and drove me to the hospital. There, they quickly rushed me to the ER and started hooking me up to machines and sticking different needles in my arms. "Am I going to die?" I asked one of my nurses. "Not on my watch" she said back to me. Those words reassured me that I was going to be okay.
Every hour, a nurse had to come in and take samples of my blood. They told me they were checking my blood levels to make sure the pills didn't fully take their course. My paracetamol levels jumped up and down every time they took samples. Every time my levels jumped, my heart dropped. I had made a mistake that I might not be able to take back. Luckily, my samples never got higher than they should have been, or I would have been rushed into surgery. I spent the night there and stayed the whole next day. I can happily say I made it out of there,

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