My Descent into Addiction pt.2

[The foundation for my addiction]

Pflugerville, TX. 2002. Park Crest middle school. Up until this God forsaken dreadful moment, I fantasized all my life about attending public school. Maybe it was the sheltered homeschooler in me, the figurative small town kid who ached for a taste of the "big city', that was painfully aware of the exciting foreign world surrounding him yet was stuck on the outside looking in. Maybe it was the dreamer inside me, endlessly romanticizing  anything other than the current status quo. Whatever it was, nothing could have prepared me for the utter Miley Cyrus style wrecking ball of a culture shock that was about to "go down" way harder than the catalina wine mixer ever dreamt of going. Up to this point in my short career of life, I knew a total of around 4 kids out of the entire junior high population, thanks to a few previous stints in little league soccer, albeit dominating stints if you ask me. Ah yes, I may have been a sheltered green homeschooler, but make no mistake about it, when I was on the field, class was in session, and everyone was getting schooled.

[Park Crest Middle School] where I attended 02-03.

So, imagine driving up to the drop off line for the first day of school, witnessing the ungodly cascading amount of my new peers, the likes of which resembled the damn Israelites fleeing ancient egypt(there were a lot), telling Mom goodbye, and simultaneously bittersweetly closing a chapter of my life amidst anxiously, pessimistically ushering in a big bright new one, venturing into the great unknown- all in the same moment. It was a overwhelming as hell, to say the least. Alas, I ventured into the parting red sea of my new destiny, swallowed by the increasingly growing number of students who all seemed to know each other, feeling forgotten, unseen, unnoticed, and insignificant. Little did I know, nothing could have been further from the truth.

The first week of public school was a blur. It was another traumatic experience in itself due to the fact that I had very little social skills, virtually zero friends going into it, and did I mention I had very little acquired social skills? Coming from a sheltered homeschool church setting into a radically different social culture as a 7th grader was quite overwhelming. Hell, being a 7th grader in general is quite overwhelming as it is. How do I fit in? What do I say to girls? How do I find my place in this chasm of social castes that I now call my peers? These questions bombarded my mind like a torrential downpour. Throw in the fact that I was also in full blown puberty, and voila, you potentially have the perfect storm for an epic pre-teen meltdown. Thankfully, I was a legit athlete. Now, we all know the people who claim they were "legit" athletes back in the day, their Mom's even echo this narrative at bake sales and church functions, but make no mistake about it, I was a gifted athlete from day 1. Basketball, soccer, track, football, ah yes, football. Here's the thing ya'll. In Texas, if you are a star football player, particularly a quarterback, at any level, you pretty much get a pass in life. Are you, in my case, an awkward homeschool kid who can barely form sentences without getting so anxious you feel like puking? Can he hum the rock like Marino on a sunday afternoon? Yes? In that case, it ain't heavy, he's cool in our book! Are you a completely obtuse intellectually challenged meathead who better make it to the NFL lest he has very few future prospects in life? Can he hit a 50 yard fade like Tom Brady on a tuesday? Yes? Welcome home son! Do you commit felonies on friday nights in the city limits of your University town, but always make bail three hours before the game on saturday? Can he run a 4.3 40 yd dash AND hum the tater like its going out of style? Yes!? No sweat, everyone's got a past these days, he's cool in our book! Point being folks, star athletes were and are celebrated, and I was no exception. After being named the starting QB for the 7th grade A team, the flood gates of my destiny opened wider than the gates of heaven. All my previous anxities, fears, setbacks, and insecurities vanished. People wanted to be my friend, girls liked me, teachers catered to me, and suddenly I ceased to be the socially akward "new" kid. I was now "the man", a title I would never lose as I progressed up the ranks into and throughout high school. What I thought was a blessing however, was actually a low key curse, a churning concoction of poison and false promise. What I didnt realize, because I was a child and had no way of knowing, is that I missed a crucial step in the natural progression of childhood development. Contrary to mine and popular belief, I hadn't discovered who I was. I hadn't developed a true identity. What I had discovered was a mask, a stage character, that allowed me to adapt to a situation that was completely foreign and overwhelming to me at that time. To the untrained eye, externally, things were great. I had tons of friends, unlimited prospects, and possessed everything a kid could want. Internally however, I was on shaky fragile ground, and the kinks in my stage character's armor were beginning to show...

Part 3 coming Friday 5/24!

[Spencer Brooks Otto]