Okay, one thing I want to make clear. Even though I wasn't a former drug using ex-gang member and I could have been much much worse I was still not a good kid as a teenager. I tell everyone that Christopher is a much better kid than I ever deserved. I think that my parents were so tired out from raising all of us that they forgot to give me the curse, "I hope you have a child just like you!" Brent's parents were rebels and so wouldn't have done it just to be different. So in the end we lucked out and got a really super kid.
The other stuff I was doing was pretty out in the open. I drank. A lot for a few years, not so much later when I realized I was drinking a lot and didn't like the fact that anything was in control of me. I smoked. Had my first cigarette when I was 12 and was a closet smoker for a few years before taking it out in the open. In fact more than a few people in school blamed me for their habit! And I cut class. Though that is an understatement and it would probably be more correct to say I occasionally went to class. I got a lot of blame for everyone else cutting class as well. In fact the year after graduation they changed the attendance policy to a mandatory amount of days in class or you wouldn't pass. I am not saying it's completely my fault, but I did have it down to an art.
And though no one ever saw me fight again after George (and the riot our sophomore year, but I don't really count that as we were all fighting) that is not to say that I didn't hit a few people now and then. Macho posturing for the most part. When you have the reputation of being the baddest thing on the block there are two responses from people; one people will leave you alone which is the one I wanted and two people will try to knock you down, which I wanted to prevent. So every once in awhile when someone would be feeling their oats I would get a little shove or a little push towards a fight. I had absolutely no problem putting on my scariest face and telling someone to bring it on. If you really are a fighter you can recognize if someone is bluffing or if they really do possess the potential for violence. I was nothing but potential for violence. Most people that are abused are. Even the ones that seem to choose the victim role for themselves from there on out have that spark of rage in them that might flare at any time. This was enough for most people to back down.
Teenagers also do stupid things like punch each other for fun. Trying to give a charley horse in the leg, or just testing out who was stronger. Boys especially will do this. Now as I mentioned I can take a punch. High pain tolerance and knowing that moving with the punch takes the brunt out of it is the secret. So I would do this with the boys when they were punching each other. All it takes is hitting a few boys hard enough to make them say ouch while you are standing there taking it and asking if they wanted to hit you for real the next time to cement a reputation.
When I say pretty much out in the open it's because I was still doing the different person for different areas thing I did when I was a little kid. My friends from youth group at church knew my sister had a drug history but didn't know about the abuse (no one did) and they didn't know all of the stuff I had made up at school. I also didn't smoke or drink in front of them. So in their eyes I was a pretty good kid. For my friends at school different groups got different pieces of me. A few friends got pretty close to the real me, some got nothing but front. So it would depend on who I was with on what they saw and I was constantly juggling and trying to make sure the different groups were kept separate. The only person who had a clue that I was doing all of this was my best friend from 6th through 11th grade. But her mother was a con-artist (took me a few years to figure that one out and it's a story for another set of blogs!) so I think that for her my multiple lives thing was pretty normal.
My parents had very few rules for me by this point. My oldest brother said I had different parents than he did and I would guess he was right. Especially since he said it when I was fixing myself a rum and coke to drink at 14 in front of my parents. The rules were as follows: Curfew of 10 on weekdays and Midnight on Weekends. Do not drink and drive and do not get into a car with someone who has been drinking. Do not come home so drunk we have to pour you into bed. If you are arrested know that we will not be bailing you out until the morning so make yourself comfortable until then. Church and youth group are mandatory and you will attend both. That was the gist of it. Not, don't drink, but don't drink and drive and don't get too drunk. The curfew was easy enough to work around, I would just spend the night at a friend's house if I wanted to stay out later. The rest wasn't an issue. I didn't like being out of control drunk so that rarely happened (sophomore year graduation, not Highland's but another school oh my...) But like I said before, my parents really felt I was pretty capable of taking care of myself and didn't worry about me much. And after what they went through with my sister I am sure I looked like I was.
And to a certain extent I really did do okay. I kept my grades in the okay range. I didn't do any drug stronger than alcohol and nicotine. I didn't have sex, much to the chagrin of the boys I dated. I didn't spend any time in detention. I didn't get in much trouble that came back on them. Not to say I didn't get into trouble. Attendance was an issue. For some reason I had talked my mom into calling me in most days for school. I was often late for my first period class and if she called me in then I could miss it without a problem. Of course that meant I could pick and choose my classes for the rest of the day as well. It was a good system for me and honestly it only seemed to bug two of my teachers the entire time I was in school.
My geometry teacher was one of them. I would show up on Monday to pick up the assignments for the week and then show up again on Friday to turn them in and take the test. And of course because I missed so many classes on Monday when I would first get there she would send me to the Principal's office to get a note saying I could get back in to class. So off to VP Gonzales I would go, he would tell me, young lady you really need to make more of an effort and I would swear that I would and back to class I would go. That was if he even saw me, half the time the admin would just hand me my note (already written and waiting) and back I would go. Finally my teacher had had enough and she called for a conference with my dad and me and the VP. After raging on for awhile my dad very calmly asked her what grade I was getting in the class. She got angry and started in again about how that was not the point at all! He asked her again and again until she finally had to admit I had an A. Then he told her, "Then the problem seems to be with your class and not my daughter" and that was that. That visit to the office is what leads me to believe I was at least a little responsible for the new attendance policy. Of course I was in trouble at home for skipping that much, but it didn't slow me down at all. In fact the next year as I was meeting someone for the first time he told me he already knew me and we had had a class together. He had sat behind me all year in geometry and I had no memory of him at all! And he was right pissed when he found out I got a better grade in the class then he did.
The funny thing is it's not like I was doing anything when I would skip. Most of the time I would go to Winchell's get a donut and coke and sit and smoke and read a book. I just hated sitting in class bored out of my mind. It seemed like such a waste of time. There were a few classes I never skipped. Western Civ with the Figges was a must. I couldn't skip that class and still pass. I didn't skip Chemistry when I took it, and I still only lasted a semester before crying uncle and dropping it! And I didn't skip my theater classes. So if it was a hard class or an interesting class I was there. Otherwise, tests and homework days and sometimes just because I had nothing better to do.
The first day of each semester I would SWEAR I was going to be better about going. And I would usually last about a week before skipping again. Except for my junior year. The first day of school was my 16th birthday. Which my parents completely forgot. So halfway through the day when Matt (who shared a birthday) said it didn't seem fair that we were in school on our birthday and suggested we take off, I completely agreed! And we went and had lunch and I think went to the mall. It ended up being a pretty good birthday after all. Even with no one at home remembering it!
So now you have a snapshot of my teenage life. I was one messed up cookie. Aside from the fighting reputation I was also the queen at cutting you down. Remember I had learned at the hands of a pro to not waste my time with random insults, I would pay attention to what was important to you and then slice you up with insults tailored specifically to your weak spots. I wasn't random in my attacks. I would single out the bullies that picked on those they thought wouldn't fight back, I would pick on people who seemed to have an over abundance of ego in relation to accomplishments. And then when I was drinking I would slice open who ever was standing closest to me when the drink that tipped me from loving everyone to hating the world happened. Mean drunk. But if you see someone reduce the big bad bully to tears enough times you start to understand that they are a bitch and not to be messed with. And that was just the way I wanted it.
Tomorrow we talk about how I figured out all of the broken pieces and put myself back together again with liberal application of sunshine and rainbows. Or duct tape. One of those... Still with me?
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