Drug Free Essay Winner!

My daughter won third place in a writing contest for Drug Free week at her school! So, after some request to read it, I decided to share it here on my blog. I am very proud of her accomplishment, as this is her story. And if her story helps just one other child, then it makes her experience an spoon that is just a little more coated in sugar.

My darling daughter, I am honored to be your mother! You bring me joy everyday, and I am truly proud of your accomplishments! I love you.

Mom

 

Topic: A Healthy Me Is Drug Free

Drugs have benefits, but they can also be a curse. They can be horrible little monsters that tear families apart. I speak from experience; since before I can remember I have been given psychiatric medication treatments had adverse affect. They made me extremely violent. I have caused more injuries than I’d like to admit. How about I start at the beginning? That’s always a good place to start.

          I was diagnosed when I was four or five years old. Ever since I had been diagnosed as ADD and Bipolar I was given tons of medication to try and help and ever since I started I can honestly say I have tried every medication out there from when I was diagnosed at the beginning to when we realized I wasn’t bipolar. When I was ten I was really violent, I would throw a major temper tantrum just over having to clean my room. I remember thrashing around screaming at the top of my lungs. I threw furniture, hit people, cursed, and more. These could go on anywhere from a hour to three hours. They only got worse as the dosages increased. Soon CPS (Child Protection Services) got called by my school and we were taken away from our parents. During the year I was in foster care I still had these temper tantrums. Each time I had a temper tantrum I was sent to a mental institution. This became a habit in my brain. Whenever I had a tantrum my brain automatically thought that I would be taken to a mental hospital. After a while I finally accepted in my brain that I was crazy, that my only family is at the mental hospital so whenever I felt lost or alone I would purposely act out just to feel loved and accepted. One time I got mad over something small. It turned into a huge fight where my foster mother was forced to restrain me because I was in danger of harming myself or someone else. While she was restraining me I was kicking and thrashing around trying to break free. That was my big mistake. Somehow I managed to bruise her liver. That was my last night at my first foster home. When I went to my second one, I still took my medication and everything but somehow I was better. I was the oldest child in the house and I felt that I had to take the responsibility. I have no idea why, my new foster mother was a great one. She took care of us. I didn’t throw temper tantrums like I did when I was in my first foster home. I just shouted and got into huge arguments which usually ended with me in my room calming down. One day while at a store, my foster sister, and I got into a big argument; I actually asked to be emitted into a mental hospital. They accepted my wish. My foster sister and I both got interrogated and only I was kept because I was having suicidal thoughts.  When I came home my temper tantrums worsened into the tantrums I had when I was in my first home. I injured my biological mother so many times in her attempt in restraining me and I always felt bad about it. A couple years out of CPS’s custody we ran out of my medication and couldn’t afford to get some more. We eventually forgot about it and I showed no sign of worsening or improvement in the next three to four months because of how long I had been on the medication. Finally after about five months of no medication I slowly began to stop having violent temper tantrums. Present day, I don’t have them anymore. I only have arguments. Sometimes they get out of hand with me storming out of the house to me getting violent but it has never been as bad as it was when I was on that medication. My entire family tells me how proud they are of me. My grandma tells me that almost every time I see her. Most of the time I don’t realize they mean my temper tantrums as I try to forget about it and make it seem as a terrifying nightmare rather than a part of my life.

          Drugs turned me into a stranger that even today I wouldn’t recognize as myself. They controlled about eight years of my life and those years I am never going to be able to get back. The person I was on that medication makes me terrified of any types of medication. Ibuprofen, Tylenol, Benadryl, and cold medicine are the only medicine I really take. I hate going to the doctor for the fear of me turning into the person I was again. This is my story and your own personal story is the hardest to tell. That’s why I absolutely hate drugs and I stay as far away as I can from them.

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