My Life

I was a twin as a baby. Well, when I was in my mother’s womb at least, my sister died about 3 months before I was a month prematurely born. So, I live life thinking that I was chosen to do something great because I was the one who lived. My motto is “don’t quit anything until you figure out the solution.

 So as a child I was that 4.0 kid that everyone loved up until third grade. During that year I had a 4.0, but my father passed away May 31, 2005. My parents were never married but they were close and not one day went by that I didn’t see my father. So he passing was like losing my best friend so it hit me pretty hard. With him passing away toward the end of the school year, I was still able to maintain my grades. Then, fourth grade came along; I received my first “C”. I was that kid that the administration loved. So I never had to make excuses because they made them for me, they would say “let’s cut him some slack his father just past.” That’s where they messed up, after that is when I got laxed and stopped trying to grind to get my grades; I wanted them handed to me.

School was going ok after fourth grade though I never get back to my 4.0 but I got somewhere around a 3.5. Around this time I started experiencing anger problems kicked in, I was ready to fight at all times. At some points what I thought was anger was anxiety. During these anxiety attacks I had suicidal thoughts. I would take knives from the kitchen, go to my room and draw blood from my arms and hands. I eventually stopped doing that. My mom thinking I grew out of it, never treated it, we left it alone but my anger was still out of control.

High school came along and I was the new student at a new school. I made friends quickly though. Ninth grade went pretty smooth. Tenth grade is where things became bad. In tenth grade my suicidal thoughts came back. Why they came back I’m not sure, I was getting told “No” a lot and me being a spoiled brat I took that kind of hard. After Thanksgiving break, my grandparents left to go back home to Georgia and I took that especially hard because they made me feel comfortable. After they left I guess I couldn’t take it anymore. A few “No”‘s later, I grabbed a knife, and a whole bottle of Ibuprofen, and did the unthinkable I ran to my room and then began to cut and swallow pill after pill counting, 1.2.3… I eventually got to 12 and eventually had to serve some time at a mental hospital. I vowed to never go there again.

I now live by one thing that my mom always told me, “Jason don’t be a statistic…You are a black child of a single mother with no father figure in your life, be successful and PROVE PEOPLE WRONG.” After I have messed up in all areas that I could possibly mess up in academically, socially and mentally, I have found the right past and if I haven’t learned anything from my experiences its, do not make the same bad decision twice.