All throughout my life, I’ve faced adversities. Even before I was born, my life was meant to be despondent. My mother, at the time 18, was pregnant for the first time and freshly graduated from high school. She didn’t attend college, but my mother hated school. She had a boyfriend at the time, with many to follow; my father, Scott. All I know about him is the name. He left my mother soon after she delivered the news of her pregnancy.
My mother has always been an argumentative and obstinate, but more than anything, she has always been angry. Her outrageous fits of temper are the most horrific experiences I’ve ever witnessed. Explosively, as if possessed by a demon, she would throw and break things, scream insanely, and sometimes cry, while ranting about whatever had set her off; most of the time I was the cause of her outbursts. As I’ve grown, I know now that it isn’t my fault, but when you’re six years old and your own mom is screaming at you that you can’t do anything right, it tends to feel like the world always blames you. Part of my mother’s problem was that she didn’t know how to independent – in fact, she still doesn’t. At the time of her worst fits, she was in an abusive relationship that she couldn’t get out of. But when she became pregnant for the second time, she couldn’t risk losing the baby; she began to take action against him. Though the details are disquieting, we had to live in a shelter for about a month, fleeing from him.
My most recent adversity, in addition to dealing with my mother, is the loss of my best friend’s mother; she was murdered by her husband, and I had a difficult time moving past such a tragedy.
To deal with these adversities, I’ve put most of my perseverance and concentration in my schoolwork and extra-curricular activities. Although I’m still coping with a lot of these problems, I feel stronger than ever because I’m that close to starting a new chapter of my life.
