Personal Narrative: Sophomore Year Of High School

Sophomore year of high school was one of the hardest years of my life. I was at a new school in a new city and had a new family. My mom and I had moved in with her boyfriend because we were getting kicked out of our apartment and had nowhere else to turn. She did not have a job or any second chances. I was forced along a journey that I never could have expected. The next year was the worst of my life.
Depression and anxiety hit me like a truck. I had never felt so confused inside my own head before. I have had problems with anxiety and depression for awhile before, but this was a whole new world. My entire environment had changed, all new people, all new streets, and all new buildings. I felt lost in my life when I was supposed to be figuring out what I wanted to be. My childhood town was ripped from under my feet and there was nothing I could do.
It was not easy going from knowing every face around me to barely knowing the teachers.
I was feeling small and lost. School felt easy but unimportant to me. There was no desire to strive for success or even meet the minimum. Every day going by felt useless and drawn out. I could not wait to go home and be alone in my room. I felt more comfortable when I was alone, and the outside world could not touch me. At the same time, I was eating away at my insides trying to find an excuse to break: a way for me to snap so I could give up. One day, I finally found my excuse.
I was sick for a whole month. First pneumonia and then the flu. One thing after another and I thought the world hated me. I lost the drive to get out of bed, to eat, and to sleep. I stopped going to school and stopped wanting to live. I did not socialize with the few friends I had left. I could not find a reason to keep going. The longer I was out of school the more stress I could feel piling up on my back. I just wanted everything around me to disappear until one day I started
running.
When I started running I felt alive. I could feel the adrenaline rushing through my veins. The air filling my lungs I desperately needed. I found an outlet to push myself and feel something again. I found my reason to keep going and live life. I became alive again and I never wanted to feel that bad ever again. I would go on runs with my dog, or my mom. Explore my neighborhood that I had been trying to hide from the whole year. I started to see that there was more to life than the little house where i felt stuck. If I found one thing that got me to feel good inside maybe there is more. I found my spark to keep me moving and to keep my head up. I found my reason to keep on living.