Boundaries were changed when I was in the fifth grade. I didn't understand the changes or the purpose of the move. With these changes came a new classroom, new students and new teachers. For me I typically thrive on change I enjoy the drama of it. I thrive on the challenge of something new. But this change didn't sit so well with me. On every level I rebelled. I fought and struggled with students, teachers and administration. The end result was me a small scared child locked in a closet. The closet was small and there was faucet with a basin on the floor. I had never seen anything quite like it. Later I would learn it was where the janitors kept their supplies. The door suctioned behind me and the room went silent but for my screams. I kicked, I hit, I cried and screamed. I was so afraid and I could hear nothing. Exausted and tired I slid to the floor and wept. I wanted my mommy.
Sometime later the door was opened and I was told to clean out my desk. I wanted to take my homework home and they wouldn't let me. I didn't notice then but they only allowed me to take that which belonged to me. I was escorted to the front of the school and out the doors. There in the parking lot was my mother. I never returned to that school and not a person inquired as to my well being.
Several days later I entered a small, private Christian school. I know today that this move was a hardship on my mother but then I was angry that I had to endure more change. Upon entering the classroom I saw a teacher with long flowing hair and she seemed to glow. Instantly I felt serenity in her presence. The class welcomed me and I experienced acceptance for the first time that I could remember. No one knew my past or had a sense of the anger I held. They just loved me. I didn't know it then but I believe today it was God's Grace.
The next morning we all convened in what was the lunch area. There we sang songs and praised the Lord (had no concept of this kind of worship). There was prayer and shared love. It was neat. I enjoyed it and I began to believe what I heard. I began to pray without knowing that my prayers would answered. I was finally happy in the school setting. This was my higher power guiding me, carrying me. I know today that the thoughts that harbored prior to this experience were dark and miserable. I believe today I was a very dangerous human and someone probably myself would have gotten hurt had I stayed in the public school.
By 7th grade it was time for me to re-enter the mainstream school setting. I was excited to do this. I was ready. My behavior in school had calmed quite a bit. At the time I believed I was less angry because by now I was maintaining with a little weed. I believed marijuana was the answer to going back to the jr. high and being successful. So I went back. In the beginning I felt outcast but knew it would take sometime to "hook up" I threw myself into my studies and isolated with my pipe.
I didn't want to be a nerd so I began to reach out to those people who I thought were cool. I saw them out back smoking cigerettes and I knew them from around. I basically purchased these friends with free alcohol and weed when I had enough to share. I still continued to get good grades and I excelled in the system. I was a high honor student and part of the National Honor Society. As a result my mother looked past the other behavior. She didn't get on me for breaking curfew, she allowed us to drink while at my house. She didn't see the impending doom on the horizon. I spiraled into the world of weed. I got pretty lazy and preferred to lounge around.
In the 8th grade near Christmas time I met a woman and began to watch her children. This woman would become my new best friend. She needed someone to stay up at night with her children as their sleep schedules were all messed up. It ended up being a big party and I was paid in speed. At first it was beans. Little mini speeders but it quickly progressed to line here and there. I fell in love with this demon. I couldn't get enough. My grades began to slip and my attendance was poor. I was just 14.
HP intervened when my mother realized the change in my academics. She believed I was "working" too much and that I could no longer babysit on weekdays. This slowed my using but didn't even come close to stopping it. Isn't this how all addicts begin. Progressively. I was 14, still a scared child holding on to a pipe and a razor blade. In this place my thoughts began to darken. I wanted to escape so badly. In my mind to run was the only way to be free.
I began to feel hopeless and desperate. I was so alone. I couldn't get my hands on the speed if I couldn't babysit. I didn't know it then but I know now I was hooked. I cried and I slept and I cried some more. And then I remembered a song from that school I attended. I remembered the words and I sang and I cried. I got through that night and I began to pray. I asked for forgiveness for lying to my mother. I asked for strength to do good in school so I could babysit again. I asked God to get me out of this. These prayers were basically answered. My grades rebounded and my mother began to let me go again.
Isn't this the prayer of all addicts help me get back to my using. Help me out of this?
The summer before 9th grade. The party began. More will be revealed...
posted by freedom14 @ 1:15 PM
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