I Hate My Life-Personal Narrative

It has been a long and difficult journey writing this narrative, and I have discovered things about myself in this narrative I never knew before. My first paragraph was all a blur, I remember you told the class you could just write down all of your ideas and edit everything later, which I did. That night, I remember I became so into it, my creative juices were projecting onto the paper. Until, I hit a stump, and I could not write no more. I was at the beginning of the third page and I had to do three to four pages. Out of frustration I became angrier and angrier,repeatedly saying “I hate my life” and “sorry your eyes are probably damaged from reading my garbage rough draft.” The next day I dreaded the day someone was going to read my draft because I knew it was shit. I had a sigh of

I went to class the following Monday forgetting we had the appointments. I started on my draft, but I had not finished editing. I rushed to the writing and literature building asking many people to direct me to Professor Wilson. I went in all sorts of directions to finally find the office. I walked in the dark office building, peaking in the already opened door. She was still with the student ahead of me and I thought to myself thank god I am not late. I awaited patiently thinking my draft might be ok to show her. I went in confident coming out thinking holy shit, I have a shit ton of work to do. I was so worried and anxious thinking and planning at the same time, how to get a better grade. I do not get Cs, I haven't gotten one since middle school. Being told throughout your life your a good writer and being told now that your writing is a C was a big slap in the face. I went to the writing center to have two people help me edit and make my writing better. The tutor told me I was a great writer giving me the confidence boost I had originally. I was thinking maybe I do have some hope after inserting and editing, but nope I spoke too soon,