The Story of Me: Part 2

I have been struggling with whether or not I should put this out in the open for some time now.  What I am about to write is about me, only a different me.  One that is so far removed from myself today, something for which I am very grateful.  I always want to tell the truth on my blog.  I want to write and not hold back.  This blog is for me: to remind me of where I have come from, what I have gone through, and what I will experience until my time here on this earth is up.  I write about the funny stories of my past and present, but I also write about deeper, sometimes darker times in my life.  This story details the darkest.  Read Part 1 of the story here. 

And home we went.  It's crazy how big an impression that city made on me.  I would eventually go back there when I went to University.  It was my first choice school and it was a hard one to get into, but I did it.  My way.

I had procured a kitten while living in our little apartment on Park Street.  He came with me.  Sonic was his name.  I think it was good for me to have a little responsibility in my life.  I continued to do drugs for a while under my parents roof.  Believe me when I say that they had no clue.  When you do it as much as I did, for as long as I did, it becomes a normal part of your daily life.  They thought I was weird, sure, but never on any drugs.  At least, that's what I thought.

I was spending my days reading, sleeping, and laying up in my dark bedroom.  This went on for a few months before my parents told me that I either had to go back to school, or get a job.  I agreed that I would go back to school but only on one condition: I choose the type of school I attended.  No more regular classroom for me.  I hated it.  So we began doing research into alternative schools.  I went to an interview at one school, and the guy who ran it was an asshole.  I needed a nurturing soul not a drill seargant.  Not for me.  My mom set up a meeting at an alternative school named Genesis.  We were about to meet the two teachers that worked there when I got cold feet.  I told my mom I didn't think I could do it.  I couldn't go back.  Not after all that time.  I was scared.  She looked me straight in the eye, squared her shoulders and said, "That's fine. When we get home you can pack your clothes and leave".  I had never seen her so serious in my life.  It scared me even more.  She knew I didn't want to go back out there.  I was just a kid.  Later when I was in my 20s, my mom told me that was one of the hardest things she had to say to me at the time.  Because she knew she was taking a gamble.  She knew that it could go either way with me; that I would have taken her up on it and she would lose me again.  Possibly for good this time.  Her little girl.  Mom 1, Kato 0.

I attended Genesis for almost 2 years, until I was 17.  In that time I met a friend named M, who also attended the school.  M was my age and had a daughter who was a year old.  She had been living on the streets for a long time, heavy into drugs when she became pregnant.  She instantly moved back home to have the baby.  When I met her she was a beautiful young lady, with a secure head on her shoulders.  I knew I would learn a lot from her.  She was far away from that girl who slept on sidewalks, and I was amazed at her inner strength and what an absolute wonderful mother she was to her daughter.  I started spending a few days at a time at her house, as it was closer to the school then my parents house, which was an hour's drive away.  Eventually I 'lived' at her house from Monday to Friday, visiting my own family on weekends.  I lived that way on and off for a year or so.  It was cleansing.  It helped me to repair my relationship with my folks.  I stopped doing drugs.  I ripped the heavy blankets off of my bedroom window, and I let that sun shine in until I was blinded by it.  I wanted to start over.  Seeing the strength that M had, I knew I could do it too.  She helped me see that anyone can change, any way they want to. 

After two years at Genesis, I knew my time there was done.  I had grown enough to know that I could make it somewhere else.  Beside's, the school I went to was only supposed to be for a few months, a time for a person to get back on their feet and move on, and I had been there for 2 years!  I dropped out again and continued my studies from home, but it was a slow process.  I got a full time job as a nanny to three kids, which humbled me and made me grow up a little bit more.  I worked with that family for a little over a year when I decided, at 18-years-old, it was time to take another stab at high school.  'Normal' high school.  My worst nightmare.

End of part 2