Four years ago, I lost my family. My mother left us for another man. In a separation, it is usually men who choose to leave. This was something different; a woman left her children. A child should not be abandoned under any circumstance. It was a difficult time for all of us, especially my father. I’ll admit, I despised her for her actions, but I couldn’t do anything about it.
It wasn’t until my sophomore year that I began to contact her again. I was lonely and wanted my mother. As much as my dad tried to understand, he couldn’t. Eventually, my sister and I moved in with our mom, her boyfriend, and our new brother. I wasn’t sad anymore. I felt whole once again. Although I lost my original family, another family, one with my mother and stepdad, came back to me in the end.
This new family took me by surprise because I never thought that I would get along with my mom in the same way. Now we are closer than ever. I am glad J.K. Rowling included this in this book because the theme of Harry Potter is love and friendship. I could not be more grateful for the relationship that I have with my mother, stepfather, and brother.
In J.K. Rowling’s fifth Harry Potter book, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, a new character is introduced. The tagline at the top of my blog “The things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, if not always in the way we expect” derives from this unique character that is named Luna Lovegood. But is this statement of loss a fact? I believe it is.
Luna Lovegood was described as a quirky girl. Despite her odd beliefs and qualities, the things she said were quite remarkable. She knew about certain things, a typical witch or wizard wouldn’t know. Her father raised her, since her mother died when she was nine. Her opinions stand out because she’s very honest. She has experienced so much in her life, but still manages to look beyond that. She sees the good in everything when it may not exist. In a way, she’s sort of like me.
I begin to rant about how the lies he tells and the broken promises hurt me. I began to get emotional as I wrote, “He said he’d always be there for me and my sisters.” My heart was pounding and I could feel my eyes begin to get watery. There was a lump in my throat. I wanted to breakdown.
I continued to write about how our father/daughter relationship went down the drain once his girlfriend turned into his wife. This hurt me even more because I don’t talk about this topic to anyone. I hoped no one in class would notice that my breathing became irregular or that I was crying.
Once time was called, I looked over what I wrote. I expressed most of my anger, frustration, and sadness all in a piece of parchment. It made me feel as if a weight was lifted off of my shoulders. I could breathe again. It helped me realize that I can do so much with a pen and paper. It helped me find my way back to what I love doing; writing. Not only do I appreciate this certain in-class write, I also appreciate being a part of this class.
As a freshman, I’m new to everything that has to do with college. So far, I’ve encountered being in a place I didn’t know, finding my way around campus, and many other things. For a while, I was afraid because I didn’t know what to expect. Thankfully, I know how to control my emotions very well, but at times I can’t hold it in. One particular incident brought out my hidden emotions.
It was November 8th and I was in Bill’s class. He said we were going to do an in-class write. I’m usually excited to write, but this time he told us to throw a fit about something. I went blank. I don’t express my feelings often, so I didn’t know what to do. I started off with a scribble then jotted down the words, “Throw a fit?” This question was followed by more scribbles. I tried thinking about something that made me upset. There it was, like a light at the end of the tunnel; my father made me upset.
Taking recognition of the other pages that are on this blog, there is more information available to my readers about the purpose of the blog and myself. These other pages such as “The Rhetoric of Blogging” support the question “what exactly is being lost and found?” This page details my purpose, my audience, and the types of responses I anticipate to receive.
As I began blogging, I started off with a serious approach that described some of the things in my past. Then in my recent post, “In the Heat of the Moment”, I spoke about a thrilling experience with my pals. This is to show my audience that there are no right or wrong answers. The only thing that matters is the way they choose to express themselves.
Although I have a few posts on my blog, they are only the beginning of what is to come. I hope that my future posts will allow a personal connection with my audience. More importantly, I hope that it will allow them to have a connection with themselves because that is what Lost and Found is about.
My blog, Lost and Found, is intended to engage scholars to talk about something they’ve either lost or found. The title may be very self-explanatory, but it’s a lot deeper than that. I want my audience to discover their weaknesses and strengths by sharing extraordinary memories that contribute to the individual they are today.
These memories may range from little such as losing your first tooth (if you can remember that far back into your life) to losing someone you were once close with. As the author and administrator of this blog, I am leaving the content of the comments unspecified. I believe that the material shared should not be judged.
Although there has not been an actual outbreak of a deadly virus that turns humans into flesh-eating corpses, I have learned some survival tactics through movies and video games. Movies such as Shaun of Dead, Zombieland, and AMC’s hit show The Walking Dead have taught me that you don’t need to own a fancy gun or ninja sword. The video games Left for Dead 2 also incorporates the use of “melee weapons” such as a nightstick, a cricket bat, and a guitar. These movies and games imply that all you need to know is how to fight off or permanently kill zombies.
After watching various movies and playing multiple videos games, I learned that you could use anything if a monster or robber decides to attack you. The main purpose of this information is to start finding things before zombies find you.
Will there ever be a zombie outbreak? Maybe, maybe not, but you should be prepared either way. The first of many rules is to find items that will help you survive. It is essential to survive a zombie apocalypse because there is a possibility that you may be the last human being.
First and foremost, you can use just about any object as a weapon. A fork, a frying pan, or even a book can be transformed into a deadly weapon for slaying the undead. Naturally, these items can be easily found in your own house. If you don’t have a house, I would suggest finding an ax or a crowbar in your neighbor’s shed.
My friends and I always do crazy stuff. It was summer and we wanted to go for a swim. Since we live in a small town with hardly anything, we make the best out of everything. Of course, we may be the only group who loves our little piece of heaven called Pinon, Arizona.
As I was saying, my friends and I wanted to go for a swim. Who wouldn’t want to during summer? So we decided to find a water tank. You know, the huge metal tanks next to windmills? This was the second time we’ve done this and I was pretty excited because the first time was so much fun. Well we found one off the main highway. As we parked as close as possible, my heart began to race. Would we get caught? What are people going to say if they see us? I didn’t give much thought to it because I knew that in the end everything would be worth the risk.
We managed to climb up with the help of Truck-asaurus Rex (my friend Cody’s lifted Dodge Ram 4×4). We swam in the smelly water for a while and I have to say that it was one of the best times I’ve had. Then we noticed that someone was watching us from a vehicle. Afraid this person was going to call the police, we decided to leave.
The water tanks here don’t have ladders that go all the way to the ground. Instead, they go about 1/4 of the way and from there it’s a long drop. It also has a metal ring around the base. So everyone went down and I was the only one at the top. I began to climb down the slippery ladder. As I partially dangled holding onto the last bar, my hand slipped and I greeted the hard ground with a bang.
Luckily, I landed in a pile of cow poop. Even though I was in so much pain, I didn’t want to cry. I laughed. My friends were staring at me in shock and finally caught on. After sitting there, I wondered if I broke anything. I couldn’t move my legs or my feet. I asked for my friend Leo to help me up. I still couldn’t tell if there was anything broken. Thankfully, I have the greatest friends in the world. They gave me their dry clothes to wear since mine smelled like a cow and dirty water.
Once we got back to Cody’s house, I showered. As I was drying off, I felt excruciating pain in my foot. I propped my foot on the tub and noticed that there was an ugly bruise that stretched from my inner arch to my outer arch. I realized that I must have hit the metal ring that surrounds the water tank.
Although losing my grip resulted in putting myself in danger, it was definitely one of the best times I’ve ever had.
During December of 2010, a drastic event occurred in my life. I thought that it would be a regular appointment, but I was wrong. The doctors started to ask me personal questions and I had to talk with a child psychologist through video communication. To make all of this worst, my grandmother Mary, was in the room with me. I had to admit to her and the doctors that I was physically hurting myself. The doctor recommended that I get help. We were dismissed so I could pack my things. My grandma drove me to the hospital in Chinle where I met my mother. She couldn’t believe it. I was flown out around twelve o’clock that night to the Behavioral Health Center in Flagstaff, Arizona. About two o’clock that morning, I was an admitted patient in that hospital. I cried the whole time because I felt like a failure and I didn’t know what was going to happen. I knew I had to be strong to get through it and that I needed to get help because my family cares about me.
After spending ten days in the hospital, I was released the afternoon of December 15th. The day before I was discharged, my sisters and I were given a proposition. We were told that we couldn’t live with my grandparents anymore and had to choose whether to live with my dad and his girlfriend in Flagstaff or with my mom and stepdad in Chinle. My sister Hailey and I chose my mom. My sister Corey chose my dad.
After this huge decision, my dad slowly began to drift away from us. He told us that he’d always be there whenever we needed anything. As Hailey and I began to build a strong relationship with our stepdad, my dad seemed jealous. Sometimes I can’t have a conversation with him without us arguing. Before, my dad and I were so close; now, the bond between us is gone.
Having to deal with depression, insomnia, and the fact that I lost my family has inspired me to become a better person. All the bad things that I may have done to myself and others are in my past. I used to ask myself, “Why me? Why did I deserve a life like this? What did I do wrong?” Not anymore. All I know is that I’m never going back to the person I used to be.