Intervention: Anything But My Own Skin

Monday, November 22, 2010

Intervention Two Excerpt

Although my grades were shot, I thought for sure, I was going back to the school the next semester.  It was my first semester in college and I was almost expected to do bad.  Everybody does poorly their first semester.  Seventy percent of college freshman make a grade point average below a 3.0.  So maybe I was below a 1.0 but I would change.  The next semester was going to be completely different. 
Two days after the semester ended, my parents and I were sitting in the living room watching a Christmas special.  They had seen my grades, but a conversation about the semester never came up.  I figured we were on the same page, next semester would be different.  My Dad shut off the television, he looked over at me.  “Chad you’re not going back to school next semester.”
            “We gave you a chance and you blew it.”
My Mom’s eyes were filled with disappointment and anger.  She was quiet.  I was quiet, lost in Dad’s words.
I had to convince them they were wrong.  My emotions were boiling on the inside, but I knew to look calm on the outside.  I started with an even and convincing tone, “Guys, it was just a rough start, I’ll do better, I promise.  College is important to me.”
My Mom read straight through me, “I don’t think so Chad, you’re done, not with a failing GPA.  We can’t trust you.  Plain and simple”
“Guys, I’m serious, I’ll do better, I’ll go to meetings down there, I’ll do whatever it takes.  I need this.”
“Chad.”  My Dad’s tone was in manager mode.  “This isn’t a discussion, you’re moving home.”
The emotions were too strong.  I couldn’t hold my cool any longer.  I threw my head back and let out a few words of disbelief.  It was over.  Their expressions weren’t budging, their minds were set and I was back to living at home.
During the Thanksgiving break, I worked a seasonal position at a furniture store near my parent’s home.  Originally, I planned to work the Thanksgiving break and the Christmas break, hoping to make enough money to pay back my parent’s back, but now I was going to be working the entire next semester, living back under my parent’s rule.  It was depressing.
The night after my parents informed me I would be moving home, I drove back to school to collect my belongings.  When I moved in, it was a glorious day for both my parents and myself.  Now, I was by myself, collecting the pieces of my broken first semester of college.  I blew it, straight up, just like my Dad told me. 

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