Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Losing Hope

*prepare's a long one*

I was one of those rare kids that loved school. Because of this, the highlight of my year was always the first day of school. When most of my friends were lamenting the end of their summer break, dreading the next semester, I was silently happy. I loved having to get school supplies, loading up my backpack for the first day. I loved the anticipation of getting my schedule. Of comparing it with my friends in the hallway to find out if we had any classes together. A lot of people look back at high school and wish they could erase that part of their life. I wish I was still back in high school. I knew who I was then. I was the A student. One of those few freshman who were in honor choir. The singer that could bounce between any male vocal part. I was the one in junior level classes my freshman year. The kid that got kicked out of typing class on the first day because I was “too fast.” The kid who didn’t groan when there was an essay assignment.

When I got out of sports the start of my freshman year I lost a good amount of my friends. Those friends who I had played football with since 5th grade. I was bitter at first, but then I found my equals. The smart kids who dressed weird. The ones who were smashing pumpkins on Halloween. The ones that only lived a few streets apart.

My goal was to get a girlfriend. I wanted girls to pay attention to me. Before I started high school I had been a jock, a prep, a kicker. When none of those worked I just started being me…and that didn’t work…but at least I was comfortable.

I had dreams of going to college, of starting my career in writing, getting married, having children. Then I moved, the middle of my junior year.

I changed.

My first few months in Georgia I slept on a couch because I didn’t have a bed. I woke up looking at my own breath because of how cold the basement was.

Going to high school here I changed again. I was still the A kid, but instead of hanging with people at lunch I would skip lunch and go to the library to write. I was the one who got to school early so I could work on the newspaper. I was the kid who sat in the back corner of the room and kept to myself. The one without friends. The one who lost himself in movies and books. The only time I ever skipped a class, I was technically going to another school to help with their newspaper. Even then I felt like a rebel. I quit choir. I quit riding the bus. I dressed even weirder. I made sure to somehow stand out…and blend in…at the same time.

By my senior year none of that changed. Only now when I thought about college I thought about moving away. Going to another state.

I still tried to find a girlfriend, but again they never seemed to pay attention to me. I can’t really blame them. I was the big, fat, shy, weird kid.

About halfway through my senior year I actually got a friend. He was one of the “outcasts” of the school. One of the ones that people tended to avoid in the hallway. As much as I try to look back on my life from that point on with fond memories…I don’t really have any.

I graduated with a 3.9 gpa and close to a 1200 on my SAT. I was accepted to UGA, Emory, Texas A&M, and Kennesaw State University. I was accepted to every school I applied to. I chose KSU. Mainly because it was close to home, my only friend…and I could afford it.

I changed.

With my new group of friends…guided by the friend from high school…I got into drugs. A shit ton of drugs. My entire life my grandparents had given me savings bonds for Christmas. I cashed those in to a tune of $8,000. I spent it all in three months.

Now I work a job where I’m lucky to break $12,000 a year.

I lost my virginity at 19 to a fucking whore. Not a literal whore mind you…I never paid her. However, if you had drugs, she was all yours. So much for love.

I failed every class…every class…my first three semesters of college. I never really bounced back from that. Then again, college wasn’t what I expected.

My dream of college was huge auditorium classrooms. Teachers who liked to be engaged with their students. I heard tales of advanced philosophy classes that met at a bar. Of parties like you wouldn’t believe. I thought I would find people…just…like…me. Instead I was greeted with classes that felt like high school. I went to one college party…that a friend took me to. I didn’t find this feeling of “free love” that I’d always expected. Movies ruined college for me. Life ruined college for me. People ruined college for me.

That kid that always loved going to school now hated it. The kid that never skipped was now skipping all the time. The kid that paid attention and always made the grade was now falling asleep in class and getting put on academic probation.

My last semester…what was even supposed to be my last semester…I tried to get that spark back. I was getting excited to go back. I’d been out for a year. I’d cleaned myself up. I was going to do this. It took two weeks before I started skipping again. Two weeks before I found myself falling asleep in class. Two weeks before I found myself wondering what bar I was going to go to when I got out of class. By now you should already know the outcome…I missed graduation by two classes.

I waited two years to try and petition to get back in. I wanted to give myself time to clear my head. I wanted to refocus. I didn’t get back in.

Now I’m lost.

All those dreams I had are gone. All those plans I made are shattered. I’ve thought about trying to get into another school…but I am so disillusioned…so…frustrated, with what college was, that I don’t know if it’s even worth it. What’s to say it won’t take two weeks again before I’m back to my old ways?

I’ll be 29 in three months. 29.

For the last, almost 9 years of my life, I’ve been a cook. What job can I get? What job am I qualified for? Am I destined to be in fucking manual labor the rest of my life? I’m 28 years old with no degree and no experience.

Every dream I now have involves money that I can never achieve or see.

I haven’t even been on a fucking vacation…by myself or with friends…in 4 years.

I have no drive. I have no motivation. I have no willpower. I’m a writer who can’t even fucking write. I don't even know what I want to do.

How does one accomplish regaining that? How can I get back to the person who wanted to make something of themselves? Everything just seems so out of reach…so far beyond my grasp. So…pointless.

It looks like the start of this year will be the same as last year. A 28 year old unemployed, living at home, piece of shit.

That great birthday trip to the Bahamas? Yeah. Doesn’t look like that’s going to happen. I never even got my passport. Even if I did, what money am I going to go with?

For the first time in my life…I’m actually in debt. Because of medical problems.

What is my future?

I’ve lost hope.

Monday, December 20, 2010

A Conversation With My Mother

A text conversation with my mom…

[this first part ended up on]

Mom: Give me the name of some of the good transformers.
Me: Optimus Prime, Bumblebee, Jazz…

Me: ?
Mom: Drunk lady at party wanted to know.
Me: Hahaha. Wow.
Mom: The drunk came over to your dad just before we left and rubbed up against him and said ‘Tought I’d come over here and see if you want to make me your bitch.’
Me: Sounds like my kind of lady.
Mom: I was sitting right next to him! He was shocked and not impressed.
Me: What did he say? What did you say?
Mom: He said I’m married, have been for 37 years. I’ve never cheated and don’t plan to start now. I said time to go home.
Me: Hahahaha. Oh man, I wish I had been there.
Mom: Apparently she asked if I’d want to swing. You would have rofl.