What Does My Father Mean To Me

Words: 644
Pages: 3

I was born in the Bronx in an impoverished neighborhood to Dominican parents. My father and my mother were separated and then divorced when I was about three years old. I am not aware of all the details because it is something that is not talked about in my family and something I dare not to ask about. Presently, my father does not support me in anyway and I do not know of his whereabouts. My mother is almost ethereal to me; she is the apotheosis of human excellence and merit. For fourteen years, she has single handedly supported me and made sure I was never without. She not only is caring for me, but my elder brother of twenty eight.

My brother dropped out May of his senior year and began to work. At the beginning of my eighth grade year,
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Due to this problem, my eighth grade year was an inferno. I was under constant anxiety. My brother would sell our belongings to pay off his drug debts, but they were not enough. People would knock on our door perpetually trying to get their money. I tried my hardest to hide my prized possessions, but they were almost all taken. I did not want my brother to be addicted to such a horrible vice and it tortured me. I wanted to somehow make him stop; express to him that this was hurting not just him, but me as well. On top of all this, I had deteriorated self image. I was awkward, short, overweight, and extremely shy. During this time, I even blamed myself for everything that happened and was happening at home. I thought of suicide continually. When I thought of the future, I portended no positive outcome for myself. I am not that disturbed, anguished, and pessimistic person anymore. I have metamorphosed so much throughout three short years. I gained self esteem, love for myself, perspective and realized nothing that was happening to me was my fault; I did not cause any of that to happen. I obtained wonderful friends and left