|Type of paper:||Essay|
|Categories:||Reflection Personality Personal experience|
Reflection essay sample
I will tell you the tale of my childhood and my dad’s transformation into an alcoholic. I was born the fourth child in a family of seven siblings. Growing up in Davao, ours was a story of joy and abundance. We lived on the very confines of comfort enjoying playtime in the serene countryside.
One fateful night it all took a dip for the worst. My mother was in the kitchen making dinner while my father was assisting us with homework. All of a sudden, we heard loud explosions, and fell to the floor in panic. The gunfire from a rifle was so scary that we all thought we would meet our demise. My father instructed us to crawl to the secret passageway that opened into the tunnels. We spent the scary night inside the confines of a cold cave.
The next morning my dad went to see the house and the assess the damage on it. The bullets impact was huge especially on the second floor where the bedroom was. My mom and dad decided that we should permanently move to a safer place and leave everything behind. Leaving behind our precious home was a difficult decision for my parents. We moved to my mother’s clan, and that is the day my life changed tremendously.
Personal reflection essay sample
In own our household, we never ate corn grits and always enjoyed the delicious tastes of exotic foods such as rice. In stark contrast to this, in my great aunt and uncle’s house, the food was deplorable and utterly non-palatable. The meal comprised mainly of corn grits that felt as hard as sand paper and dried anchovies. I realized that the movement affected my family very severely. What was once a blissful united family, became distant and unbearable. My parents were always arguing and the fact that they spent less time with us made it even worse. I remember setting the table in a somber mood with tears flowing down my cheeks.
We had to start all over again with rebuilding our lives together. The critical problem, however, was that my mom’s family disapproved of my father and did not hide their dislike of him. From the onset of the marriage, they were against the young love. Following her heart’s desire, my mom ran away to be with my father. Her wealthy family resolved that they would not share any part of the fortune with her. I had too many burning questions that I never understood due to my tender age. Nevertheless, one thing was clear as day to me; my family would never be the same again.
Due to the resultant pressure and stress, my dad became an alcoholic and started smoking cigars. Whenever he spoke, he chuckled, had a hiccup and slurred in his speech. Most of the crystal-clear memories of my childhood were of my father yelling and mumbling while he was intoxicated. Even my mom developed my father’s drinking and smoking vice. In comparison, however, my dad was way too deep into drinking and smoking. I saw him act like an idiot on several occasions. Sometimes he mentioned some words that were utterly regrettable. Often, he invaded our personal space which made us so scared and afraid that he might hurt us. As a consequence of my dad’s habit of drinking and smoking, he equivocally stated that he did not care about us at all. It was no surprise when my elder sister and brother ran away from home. It is heartbreaking that I have never seen them since I was eight years old.
The sight of my father hammered, wasted, and plastered, turned me into a fierce critic of liquor. I questioned myself about the contents of alcohol, but the answer never presented itself to me. My biggest worry in life was that I would like drinking and turn into an alcoholic like my father. The thought of becoming an intoxicated drunkard mumbling stupid incoherent things made me shiver.
Once I was at a party, and all of my friends decided to drink and soon enough they were a little bit flamboyant. However, I desired to gain answers to a question I always asked myself. My friends pleaded with me to have a sip of liquor, and once I did, it tasted offensive, unpleasant and foul. Its description in my head was just despicable, it tasted like dry mustard and mushroom, almost earthy. Its effects on me were astonishing, most of the cares and inhibitions in my head immediately varnished. I don’t remember being more disgusted than I was at that particular time.
During my earlier days, my biggest fear was trying alcohol and ending up addicted to it. I was shocked at the resultant disappointment and failed expectations. I never liked it because of its pungent smell and the choking effect it had on me. The smell of it was like that of nail polish remover. It gave me absolutely no desire to drink or get anywhere close to getting drunk.
As my friends began to drink, I saw them act like idiots. They would giggle at things that were not funny, stumble around, and make fools of themselves. I did not need nor want the care-free feeling it offered. My life was complete as it was and there were no pleasant thrills or happy feelings that alcohol could arouse in me. If it was about friendship, I didn’t need alcohol to make friends. My life is very exciting yet I don’t take liquor. What could I possibly gain from alcohol?
I will never partake of alcohol or even use drugs. There is too much risk at stake, yet the benefits derived are not even commensurate. Worse still, it could damage my relationship with my family. I also have a deep conviction that I am one of the few who are strong enough to resist the temptations and allures of alcohol. Life is short and precious, so I know the direction to follow.
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