Expelled at 8 yrs old

I hold a few bragging rights in several topics one being getting expelled from school at the early age of 8 years old.  Now that I am older looking back I would have probably done the same thing that got me booted in the first place.  Let me try to explain what it was like for me at the age of 8 years old.  First of all I had seen my mother in jail on Mother’s Day for the first time, I had seen her arrested a couple of times already, she had just went on the run, skipped out on bail and her children.  She had signed temporary custody over to her parents our grandparents which after 4 years turned in to a permanent thing until we found out she was alive.  My grandmother was a mail carrier, sweet, quiet, hardworking, much stressed and very scared woman.  My grandfather was an angry abusive alcoholic along with very stricked, very lazy and very controlling.  Everyone kissed his ass for years due to fear, trying to keep the peace or to protect my brother, my grandmother and myself.  Everyone kissed his ass but me and let me tell ya I took beating after beating, ass whooping’s, cussing’s and abuse than you could imagine.  He tried for years to break me and I would not break no matter what come my way.  I fought him back as a little girl up against a full grown man full of more anger than one person should be able to possess.  Some of my grandfather’s favorite lines to my grandmother were “Their lying I did not do that”, “I have no idea what they are talking about”.  Some of my grandfather’s favorite lines to repeat to me “Crying only shows fear and weakness”, “If you get a spanking somewhere else you are getting another one when you get home”, “Your mother left you with me because she hates you” and  “Your mother is dead and never coming back”.  So at the age of 8 years old I was basically thrown into a constant battle that I could have seriously not walked away from one day.  My poor little brother took so much abuse that he by far did not deserve and myself did deserve some of it because I fought my grandfather like hell.  Back to the story at hand my grandparents paid for my brother and me to go to private school.  We had both been promoted a few grades already with my brother the picture perfect student and I well book smart but honoree as hell.  One day we were put on some reading machines with helped us to read faster which was followed by test on the current reading material to test our comprehension.  This was soon before I was tested for learning disabilities by my next school to find out I did indeed have Dyslexia but, the preacher’s wife who ran the school decided to grab my face and give me a speech.  She put her hand on both sides of my cheeks and squeezed so hard that her fingers were touching each other on the inside of my mouth.  Why you ask?  Because I was not paying attention as well as my brother, why wasn’t I more like my brother... etc etc etc…??  Truth was I could and can read a little over 1000 words per minute but I read them right to left instead of left to right and have the ability to understand it correctly.  She thought I was screwing off because my head was faced a different direction.  To make a long story shorter I punched her in the nose and caused it to bleed quite a bit just to get the boot that very day.  Which was followed with one hell of an ass whooping after I got home and I was enrolled into a new private school the next week.  My brother however remained in the first school with his goody goody self.

A little personal background intertwind with my work info...

Even the most of boring days in my life has been known to make a permanent imprint on me one way or another.  When I look back on my life I am absolutely stand amazed at what I have done and what I have made it through.  At 31 years of age I have survived being shot at for being white, being stabbed, numerous street fights, sleeping under bridges in a blizzard, playing outside through 3 hurricanes, a Bi-Polar mother, losing my inheritance to keep my mother out of jail, being raped at ten years old, drug addictions, becoming a single mother at seventeen and that does not even begin to give you an idea of what my life was, is or will become.

On February 6^th 2012 I turned 31 years old.  I’m a full time college student holding a 3.5 GPA while majoring in AAS CIS Cisco CCNA College: Professional and Technical Major and Department: AAS CIS Cisco CCNA, Computer Information Systems and I am taking several electives in Criminal Justice.  I’m basically a single mother of three children a redheaded hormonal 13 year old daughter, a 6 year old Autistic son and a very outspoken 2 year old little girl as well.  Their father works out of state which he does to help support them all financially but, does not help out with watching them or anything else that involves them.  I have managed to quit drugs, smoking cigarettes and drinking years ago.  This is truly something considering I started smoking and partying at the age of 10 years old.  After paying a great deal of money out to get my grandparents out of bankruptcy which my mother through them in I own the house they built the year I was born in 1981.  I drive a decent ride; have managed to revamp my environment for myself and my children.  Is that much to be proud of?  Yes, to me it is… 

I cannot remember a time that I didn’t have to worry about something or a time that I had the luxury of being able to relax for a deserving amount of time.  To be honest if you got the chance to catch me relaxed at all in my earlier years I was high plain and simple.  I was high so much that most people didn’t know the difference from me being one way or the other.  I have busted my ass for many reasons throughout my life depending on what time period of why I did.  In my early years it was to have the peace of mind to wake up and have electricity and water.  It was to make sure my brother who was a year younger than me had everything he needed like clothes, shoes, school supplies and food.  At 9 & 10 years old I lived in a small town with a population of less than 6,000 people in PA.  Where I ran two paper routes, clean cages and tanks at a local pet store and cleaned up at a candy store for money.  Which I did for a while before I learned something about myself that I did not know was going to be a stepping stool in my way of life as I knew it.  Which was I had major game when it came to talking shit, manipulating, spitting game, hustling and being able to adapt for survival in any situation.  At 10 years old I was running side jobs here and there for people in their 20’s, 30’s, 40’s and I’m pretty sure the oldest person that I later supplied weed to was in his 60’s.  Crazy I know but, it’s the truth…  I have always had a gift when it comes to people which I’m not boasting about to say the least.  It’s much more of a curse than a gift.  Being able to work a person because you can think a little faster on your feet or being able to understand sequence of events. Not only that but I have a scary judge of character and people just open up to me for no reason really.  Within a few minutes of meeting a person I may already know half of their life story.  Although game had opened a new door for me at such an early age did not mean that I stopped working.  Not working was never the case for me and frankly I’m not sure if I would know what to do with myself if I wasn’t working in, on or around on something.  Even though I continued to hustle and work the streets for several years to come I still continued to hold other jobs as well.  This gave me new outlets for my side businesses.  I have worked in several gas stations as a cashier, floor clerk, cook and I had one assistant manager position one time.  I took care of my disabled aunt for 3 years and not just 3 years but every day but 3 days out of three years I provided her with home health care.  Before that I had landed a job as a grease monkey in which my boss made me work for 3 days without pay to prove myself.  2 years later I held the title mechanic and had not got fired unlike 11 men during my time working there.  A few years later I moved to FL in which I lived through 3 hurricanes named Katrina, Rita and Wilma in 2005.  At the time I worked as a hostess at a very high society restaurant and I worked as a stable hand at a highly respected horse stable.  In between all of these jobs I continued to run my side business being a connection in which in later years I had crazy connections where I could place my hands on almost anything you could imagine.  I also worked on broken electronics, did some roofing, cleaned houses, plumbing jobs and basically anything someone needed I would damn sure try to do it for the right price.  No matter what I had a kid or kids, my brother, my mother, my live in friends to take care of.  I forget sometimes that it’s ok to lean back when I sit down because I’m so use to working my ass off.  How’s that for a work history?  Now that I’m reading what I wrote above that’s just about a hot mess.  No matter what kind of work I was doing though I was always able to get the job done by hard honest work in turned left me with another connection for something I may be able to work to my advantage later.  I did decide to walk away from the life a few years ago with ties in tack.  People still owe me favors but, understand that I’ve walked away if for no other reason but for my children.  I left the life with a good standing relationship with everyone and due to me always being honest and trust worthy I had no problem getting out.  I did lose a few friends because I refused to enable their habits by hooking them up with my contacts.  But, if that’s the only reason they were around me in the first place means that they were not my friends any way.  I can remember a time where I carried around two cellphones one for business and one for people I truly loved and gave a shit about.  I still have both cellphones put up chargers included just encase I need to get a hold of someone for whatever reason.  It’s not because I want to hold on to a piece of my old ways but it’s because I may need something one day.