A Chapter From The Story Of Lucky

When I was about 15 years old my mother started dating an rarely employed alcoholic who was very influential over her decisions. Around this same time, my sister moved out to start college leaving me to defend for myself.

House rules changed at the drop of a dime mostly without my knowledge hence why I'd find a police officer waiting for me when I returned from school, confirmation class at church, or work. I'd get hauled in or ticketed for being late (as little as 5 minutes. Quote: "well when I said 9pm, I meant be home 15 minutes before 9 o'clock.") on my curfew or when she claimed she didn't know where I was....confirmation class was every Wednesday.

I would get sentenced to 90 days probation and 180 hours of community service time after time without the judge even looking at my record. (I only really deserved it the first time. I made a bad decision while hanging around the wrong crowd. But when my (ex) friends, whom to this day I have only spoken to one of them with in the last few years, got a strict grounding from their parents, I got 3 days in juvenile detention + probation.) I was accused by my mother of causing her TIA and some of my family didn't speak to me for quite some time. Nobody seemed to consider the fact that she was severely obese and financially supporting a lying drunk. And although I am sure being a single parent didn't help matters, I alone surely didn't cause enough stress in her life to cause a mini-stroke.

Then came the bus incident. It was shortly after my knee surgery and I missed the bus after school leaving me to walk about 3-4 miles on icy sidewalks on crutches. This was because when I called home I was told I must have missed the bus on purpose and I better make it home on time. The truth is it was my first day taking the city bus to school. I went to the stop where they dropped me off not realizing they return down the block on the opposite side of the street. I had no way of hobbling over in time when I recognized the bus number in the windshield. On that long walk home tears froze to my face in the winter temps. It was a turning point or sorts. From then on I started relying only on myself for survival.

The light at the end of the tunnel came nearly 2 and a half years later. After countless hours of cleaning up poop in city parks and weekly meetings with my probation officer I was assigned a social worker named Dione.

Dione did a home study and came to the conclusion that I was a normal teenager who somehow survived years of emotional (and sometimes physical) abuse. I had good (enough) grades, didn't do drugs, and any drama that came between my home life and me were caused by two people who seemed not want me around. Not only that, but she questioned why my mother wasn't held responsible for not attending her assigned parenting classes yet I completed every single minute of my sentences. She presented this to the judge but I got no apology, no "we made a mistake", but I also didn't get anymore "time" and looked forward to moving out on my own the day after I turned 18. Sure it was going to be tough. After all, I was still a senior in high school, but working nights at a steakhouse and cleaning homes while achieving my diploma was so worth it. I knew things in that household were not going to change and after I turned 18 any run-ins with the law would end up on my permanent record. Besides, I was told I'd have to pay rent for my room anyways since I was an "adult", so if I was going to pay rent it was going to be for my own place!

I don't know where Dione is now. She came to my college graduation and I think even my wedding if my memory serves me correctly, however, since then we have lost contact. I just hope she knows what she means to me and many other kids she helped in her career. As far as my mother, I had to take a step back to look at where she was coming from, what abuse she too survived as a child, and make the promise to myself the cycle stops here. In doing so, I chose to forgive her (and him) so I could move forward. This simply was a chapter of many chapters in my life story.