Personal Statement free essay sample

John F. Kennedy pertinently remarked- â€Å"Too often we enjoy the comfort of opinion without the discomfort of thought. † I understand this statement as one that holds to be true, given the current scenario, the world over. As someone who gradually learnt to formulate her thoughts and render an opinion on subjects of growing concern, I drew inspiration to be well informed from the extensive role that the media had to play in bringing forth such concerns. Choosing Humanities as my stream in High School furtherbolstered my inclination towards the area. Subjects like Political Science, Psychology, Sociology and History have helped me comprehend situations in an all-encompassing manner and delve into research that helped me articulate my thoughts and enabled me to structurally analyze the same. My desire to study the role of media and communication stemmed from the various activities I engaged in while at school. Workshops on Self Emergence and Vocational Skills, attending seminars on self-development, regularly reading news items at the School Assembly, and actively participating in various quiz competitions intrigued me to a great extent. You, on your own have caused your own self desolation from this world. I always chose the laborious path; overcoming addiction, self harm, depression, and intense heartbreaks. I wrote my first poem on a sleepless night filled with regret and denial due to the bare fact I was diagnosed with depression. I’d write my art around those who had left scars on my heart, until my words got tired of being anagrams of their names. You made agony look so alluring. Maybe this is why I felt the need to want you. You became my drug. You were the beautiful passion within me. You reminded me of every beautiful love story I’ve come across- A love so deep and addicting that I had to drown myself in order to feel alive. I indeed needed to feel alive after the abandonment of my father and the substance abuse my mother fell into, with a never ending loop of denial. Every night I was afraid of coming home, my father would constantly leave bruises on my skin. I’d cry out loud pleading for forgiveness but it would never approach to save me. My mother was supposed to be my â€Å"hope† but she was too busy getting drunk on the idea of happiness. And suddenly my hope was gone in an instant just like my father. His existence just one day vanished away from our lives. Most people drink forget like my mother, and most run far away like my father. I’d fall into mindless teenage romances in order to forget the disastrous events going on at home. Many of these romances devoured my cold empty heart. Sometimes I wonder if my father ever feel some sort of remorse for the chaos that he has created. Has he created this chaos because I have failed to realize that not everyone who comes across my path will reek of good intentions? Maybe I’ll never know the incomprehensible reasons as to why you chose to do what you did Maybe time will lead me into a rigorous path that will reek of good intentions and happiness so I fall out of these bad habits Maybe I’ll realize that no one who crosses my path will cause as much destruction as I can on my own Writing saved me. Writing was made for me. I will push myself until the very point where I’m out of similes and metaphors to intertwine my art with. I believe in me! And, what I’m capable of pushing myself to do, because this is my challenge and it will continue to be my challenge. So I can say with confidence â€Å"Hey dad, I did it without you.†