Moving to Texas the summer I turned 12, well it was pretty rough. We went from living in a beautiful house in the mountains, into a run down farm house in Crowley. A nice school district, but with more of a stuck up environment. My dad received a job transfer only to be laid off almost immediately after moving. Life was difficult attending a school where students compared labels and lifestyles. Plus, I learned a few things about how bad the American education system is, when I was informed we were moving to Texas (1988), I cried because I thought we would have to sell our cars and ride with a horse and buggy. It doesn’t end there, my first week of school, when I would tell people I was from New Mexico, I was asked a half-dozen times, “So is this your first time in America?”.
Anyway, this school really released my inner demons, I tended to hate everyone. I mastered my skill of disrespecting adults, fellow students, anyone with authority. In fact, I cannot recall one teacher that I offered respect to, I had became a jerk. Fighting within the home became intense, finances were rock bottom, my brother, sister and I had went from a six bedroom home, into a two-bedroom, where we all three would share one room, one bathroom and two space heaters. I didn’t understand what humbling was, instead I saw anger in everyone who had more, I had a distaste for anyone who seemed to have it all. Church wasn’t any better, all of those kids came from homes who there parents had jobs, nicer homes and what seemed to me, better lives.
My anger increased toward my parents and all hell broke out between my siblings. I would happily walk out of church and roam around the neighborhood, mainly just to make my parents angry. As the year progressed so did my negative attitude, a depression began in me, it grew to the point to where my parents (with school recommendation) checked me into a mental hospital, where I would be diagnosed with Manic-Depression. I spent a few weeks there, my dad received a new job, we purchased a home in Burleson, the next town over and life carried on. In Burleson, I wasn’t so full of hate, instead I learned how to swallow my feelings, to start keeping things inside, because the outside world was undeserving of my feelings. The only thing I shared was my negative opinions and smart mouthed remarks to any authoritative figure. This attitude would remain with me before my next shift what I started high school, we will save that for another time.
The only thing that did keep me in focus on occasion was going to Church camp in the summers, I was always surrounded by youth who had shining attitudes, goals and hope. Church camps and seminars all seemed the same, no one judged you on your house, your clothes, your family situation, because in this setting you could hide it all. You could just feel like one of the happy kids for a week, and it might follow with me for a few weeks, then the anger would return, I’d swallow another bad day and move on through life, godless for the most part.