Chapter Nine: Intermission; or, The Calm Before the Storm

As of now my stories have all taken place in essentially the same time frame: elementary school up to the first few weeks of high school. From the start of high school until this past summer, nothing major happened with my mom. Yet, since this past summer, things have escalated worse than ever before. The following is my account of what happened between the two extremes.

At fourteen years old I was poised to take a swan dive into mediocrity. I didn't see any sort of notable future in front of me. I was untested, intimidated by the growing importance of each passing day. I could throw AP classes and commitment to the dogs for all I cared. I wanted to retain that buoyant and carefree spirit forever. The approaching concerns of maturity and college yielded to present idleness and leisure.

On the humorless side of things, my closest friends were experimenting with harder and harder drugs and I was rapidly falling into the gravitational fringes of their influence. Back then I was content with mild experimentation (at least by my standards) and my friends' behavior profoundly concerned me. These were people who I could identify with intellectually and emotionally, and here they were, with pills and powder, doing the kinds of things that could instantly shatter a child's naivete.

Imagine an alternate Andrew G: age 17, lazy and unmotivated, penniless and eager to attend the prestigious Devry University in the fall of '09. That would have been far out, man. And that's where I was headed. Most people don't realize how easy it is to throw everything away. But the fates had something else in store for me. By virtue of pure chance, my two closest friends were caught with an illegal substance just hours after I had been with them. When my mom learned about my freshly busted friends, she banned me from ever seeing them again. And so at one of the most critical points in my life, circumstance made my decision for me.

I joined the debate team and toned down the malice a bit. Getting away from some of the chaos allowed me to maintain a tenuous respect for my schooling. I was aware that I had no idea about the trouble I could have been getting in to, and mild boredom was a much more appealing prospect than addiction.

By the midpoint of my sophomore year I was taking my academic life pretty seriously. It was then that I became cognizant of the extent of my gifts. I actually wanted to challenge myself, to see how far I could push my potential. Further, I was in place to make consistent runs at the state championships for debate. I was even mustering up some self-confidence after a few failed attempts at kindling some puppy love.

By no means was I some momma's boy during this span. I got into mild trouble now and then, but my parents pride and faith in me were constant. I was a devious one. Practical jokes, drinking, general dickery. We all know boys will be boys.

Junior year was a blur of infatuation and hard work. Luckily, most of the school work came to me easily and freed me up to do other things. One lengthy relationship and a few bouts with depression later, I lusted to bask in best life had to offer. As a new bachelor, I didn't have to worry about pleasing anyone else but myself, and my actions reflected it.

The summer after junior I learned to let it all go. It didn't come all at once. Not even close. Every day became a struggle to find a clear meaning in life. It took some pain and self-respect, but I got there. My attachments to things that didn't matter, my crippling self-hatred, and my irrational social inhibitions crumbled before the emerging new me.

It was this past summer that I re-united with those friends whom I had been banned from those years ago. Our paths had split markedly over these three years. Still, the circle was complete. Believe it or not, despite high risk activities, these friends had averted total disaster. They helped me get in touch with myself. But this time around, I had enough self-control to avoid their 'alternative' lifestyles. I could pick and choose the best advice they had to offer while avoiding the pitfalls of shameless indulgence.

Under this reawakening, I was beating the drums that would soon awaken a sleeping giant. My attempts to celebrate my freedoms and humanity were on a collision course with those antiquated ideas my mom had of me. I was unknowingly playing with fire over a powder keg. As coincidence would have it, this perfect storm of polarized people culminated in what is now present life.