Personal Narrative Essay: Everything I Do Holds Me Captive?

1439 Words 6 Pages
Everything I do holds me captive; from how I treat people to how I am treated. How I was raise haunts me every day. Nothing is ever easy and only when you realize this will someone like me try to find a ‘happiness’. I found a category of ‘happiness’, and that is art. As a small child, maybe I was six or seven, I knew I was to take care of myself and try as hard as I could not to be dependent on my parents. My father was often tired but would take care of me as any parent would, buying food for the household and helping me get what I wanted or needed. My mother was more childish and I knew I had to become more mature, and so I did; I always did my best to stay calm in situations where most children would cry or whine, and because …show more content…
I also know that he wouldn’t ever joke about ‘our mom’ being dead. I did my best to comfort him. As we got everything ready for my mom, my father kept telling me, “You don’t get it yet,” “It hasn’t hit you yet,” “You don’t realize it yet,” all because I actually did and didn’t cry in front of him. I hate to make people worry, so crying while all of this was happening was absolutely not going to happen If I could help it. I think he just wanted to know that I even cared about her when he told me, “She’s dead, you won’t ever see her again.” At that time it hurt me so much, but I didn’t cry, I remained calm and told him that I …show more content…
Everyone was so sad, some talking about part of my mom that I had never known. As usual, I kept calm as best I could, shedding tears not only to relieve anyone’s fear of me not caring, but also to calm myself down, and to avoid doing anything I would regret.
I remember after everything was said and done, I was thrusted back into reality and I had a musical to perform: Les Mis. I remember that it was such a fun but troublesome experience, although I made new friends and got to express what I couldn’t before. I had reached a new feeling on stage where I could be myself within my character. I drew more than I had in such a long time, and I sang my heart out, for my mom.
I guess not everything has been a total bust for me, but it sure helps to know I have a few people I can turn to when I feel terrible and don’t know what to do, it doesn 't always help, but it’s something. I suppose that’s all I can hope for. Everything that holds me captive protects my future, and helps me understand my past. I know that I’m not perfect, and I know no one else is either. All that’s left to do is wait and work for what my life has in

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