¶ … Personal Autobiography
If you have any questions about this paper, please contact our customer service department at series of painful incidents moulded me into the person I am now. It has taken years to alter my psychological responses, to mature, and to appreciate the value of hardship. Each of my personal obstacles has ultimately transformed my character.
I have only vague memories of my childhood. The time I spent with my mother, father, and brother remained cloudy until only recently. I recall doing everything with my family as a young child: our time was divided between our home in Florida, a boat on the river, and our home located in Lake of the Ozarks. I had little interaction with other children other than in school, and I had no involvement in activities that would have fostered social and educational development. Sitting on my father's lap while he sipped martinis was a typical evening at home.
My yearning for friendships with other children and my brother's desire for greater independence were unfortunately usurped by my grandmother's moving in with my family. Following this transition, I became acutely aware of my need for friends. My parents maintained an active lifestyle, and became increasingly unavailable. This entailed little supervision for my brother and me. As a result, my brother began lying, stealing, and otherwise acting out. His behavior was out of control, and the only individual he feared happened to be our father. It was not clear to me why he was so afraid until I was old enough to realize that my father had been beating him for years. This uncomfortable awareness superseded any remaining desire for more parental attention; I realized that being overlooked was not entirely a bad thing. I henceforth remained fearful of my father until the day he left home.
For years I hoped for this release and relief. However, the circumstances under which he left complicated matters even more. I found out that this man was not actually my or my brother's biological father. For fourteen years, my parents had lied to me. It took the extraordinary action of my real father contacting me with the truth to find out what other people had known for years. However, my real father had no intention of pursuing a relationship with me; he only wanted to convey the truth.
My mother and father moved to our home in Lake of the Ozarks, three hours outside of St. Louis. I would only see my parents on the weekends. Despite to my family's inability to provide emotional support, they did try to make up for this lack with money. My brother still remained in constant trouble, but now that he had a constant stream of money he developed a drug problem. As his problems escalated, he ended up in a drug treatment center. My grandmother tried to assuage the resentment I had for my mother and father, but unfortunately it was too late. I began to suffer in school: I went above-average achievement to barely passing grades. I ate every meal in silence and although I had friends, I was embarrassed and unable to discuss what was happening in my life. However, in my senior year of high school I was asked to serve as a peer counselor. It was the first time I was introduced to a support group, and connecting with my peers proved crucial to my graduation from high school.
Shortly after my brother was released from rehabilitation, he began exhibiting odd behavior. It was as if he lost his mind: he talked to himself and obsessed about people being after him and poisoning his food. I was not truly scared until he began to accuse me of assisting in poisoning him. Not wanting to worry my mother, my grandmother kept silent. I, on the other hand, tried to get through to my mother, but my grandmother insisted that I was exaggerating. It was not until my brother began to threaten my life that my mom came home to intervene. Within days, he was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia and would remain in and out of hospitals for years to come. I was sixteen when my brother was...
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