I am a high school student in Indio, CA. I have not always lived in California, and a matter of fact, I have only lived here for like 8 months. Before I lived here I lived in Wisconsin. Ya, I know. Culture shock at its best. It wasn't really a culture shock, though. I did live in Utah for like 2 years. So, I was kind of already used to everything that California had to give me. My home state is Wisconsin, I lived there for almost my whole life. I lived in the small town of Arcadia. It was one of those towns where everyone knows everybody somehow. I am pretty much OG where I lived. Haha, I said that when I moved back to Wisconsin, from my two year move in Utah. There were new kids in the class of 2012 of Arcadia High School and one of them came up to me and said, "So you are the new kid? Coleman right?" Because I am a little jokester, I replied, "Naw, I am not new I knew all these fools since kindergarten, I am OG." Had a little laugh.
So much has happened to me, for me to end up in this blasted desert here in Southern California. Well, my dad was an addict. He did everything. He was an awesome dad, but he had problems. He tried cleaning himself up millions of times. He did everything with me and my 4 brothers at the time. He pressured us to play baseball, played catch with us, made me join football, and loved me, my brothers, and my mom so much. The sad thing was his addictions made him clinically depressed. My mom kicked him out dozens of times, he always came back. We put him though Rehab at least 10 times. My mom always tried to hide his problem from us, so that we did not look at him differently. She tried so hard to keep my dad clean. Well, one day, I believe it was a Friday, my dad was going to Rehab, again. Before he left, he drove me to my friend's house, hugged me, then left. That was the last time I saw my dad alive.
Three month's of my dad being in Rehab, I was at home with one of my little brothers watching a movie, while my other little brothers were at my grandma's house. My mom was gone heading over to the Rehabilitation Center to check up on my dad. An hour after my mom left, my Uncle knocks on the door. He told me and my brother that he is going to take us to my grandma's house. I felt a bad vibe from the beginning we got into the car from the facial expressions on my aunt and uncle's faces. I didn't take to much to mind on it though. While we were driving in to parking area on top of the hill of my grand parent's house I saw people outside. Family members everywhere. I came out of the care and immediately, my brother runs up to me and yells, "Dad's gone!" I thought he was trying to be funny, due to how young he is and how active he was at the time. Then I saw my Grandma, she was by her flowerbed, sitting, with three family members comforting her. She was crying. My grandma took me and my brothers hand, clueless of what is going on, and told us, "Your father passed away, I am so sorry." Not knowing how to feel, I walk to the backdoor of the house and sat on the couch. I started to cry.
The funeral passed and depression started hitting my mom hard. My father killed himself, how can anyone not be depressed? A few months later my mom started getting a little better and signed up to a dating website. She told us that she was feeling lonely and that we need a father figure in our lives. I didn't care, because I knew my dad will always be with me forever. Don't take this the wrong way, my mom still loves my deceased dad to death, and we talk about him a lot, even today. Well, my mom found someone. The way they communicated was through email for a couple months. Then it lead to phone calls. They talked for hours. My mom said she loved his accent. He was from New Zealand. After a few months of flirting on the phone, he sent her a plane ticket to come to Utah to meet him. My mom left, and we were left at my grandma's house until she came back. My Grandma did not enjoy my mom going to Utah to see a guy, so "soon" after my dad's death.
When my mom came back from Utah, she told us that she was now married with him and that we are packing now. I was in total aw. I did not expect this. We packed our stuff and drove the three day trip to Utah. That is how I began to live in Utah. Was a cool place, too. Now, that was a culture shock when I started to go to school there. haha. We found a house there in Taylorsville. My mom did not like it there because it was too far from her mom's house. My mom wanted us to be close to family. My mom's side of the family is in Utah, and my dad's side is in Wisconsin. So, after living a year in T-ville, we moved to Provo. A church on every block. We moved somewhere five minutes away from my "other" grandma's house, not even five minutes away. Made many friends in Utah, and they are still friends with me today. Talk to them every other chance I get on Facebook.
I slacked it a lot in my first year of high school in Provo. I never went to any of my classes. I ditched and hanged out with my friend in Burger King getting free whoppers, or playing WoW with my other friend in a coffee place right by school. What the hell. I slacked it hardcore. My mom didn't even know I was ditching classes until I told her why my grades sucked.
Well, during the Summer of my 2nd year in Utah, my mom wanted to live in Wisconsin, again. Packed up, again, and headed out. Mom wanted me to call my stepdad, dad. It was really hard to do it. I even avoided him, so that I did not have to call him dad. But, I knew I was being selfish, hurting my mom's feelings and especially my stepdad's feelings. So, I chose to go on the moving truck with him as his companion on the passenger side. Two years and I didn't really get to him, but that cross-country ride made me get more used to him. I started calling him "dad". I still love my birth father and will always think about him, but my stepdad has really grew onto me the last three-four years.
Hard to believe how much friends change over two years. All my friends were druggies and I do not do drugs. The first day I was back in my hometown, I went to my best friend's house. His mom loves me and always calls me Simon, as does my friend, over a little inside joke a few years back. They thought I looked more like a Simon, than a Coleman. They called me that as a nickname ever since. Even my email has the simon reference in it. Well anyways, the first day I am back I go to my friend's place and we automatically go skate somewhere. I have been skating for almost 7 years now. He offered me drugs. I said, "naw." Then one day after many times of hanging with him, he offer's me a cigarette. Peer pressure got me, and I took it. I think i was hooked after that, my mom was a smoker. Never thought of taking her cigarettes until I came back to Wisconsin. I started stealing packs from her. She didn't notice because buys the cartridges that come with like 12 packs in them, and I always snagged one pack at a time. I was a pack-a-day smoker for a few months. I started buying packs with money that I got from an allowance. Then one day, I go to the back to have a smoke. Nobody goes to the back. My brother comes out of know where, sees me, then run's back into the house. My mom screamed at me, she started crying, I felt horrible. I quit. Cold turkey. Did not touch another cigarette.
My "dad" had to go to California to work. That is what he does almost all day. He sits at a computer, and just types and types and types and types. So, he goes to California. My mom starts feeling alone and depressed, again. The thing is my mom and stepdad fight a lot. Almost got divorced a couple times. So, my mom is fighting my dad about coming back. He says he has to be there. We move to California. Here I am now.
Over the years I have grown a habit of joining forums, playing WoW, skating even more hardcore.
That is me.
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