Atonement?

Background Story

This ‘chapter’ is going to be based off of all the entries that I’ve written in the previous poetry book. If you read them all from Venture then there’s no need to read this one. It’ll basically restate everything you already know. This chapter is mainly for those who are interested in reading my entries and haven’t read the other poetry book.

I’ll start with saying that I tried to write this already but I hit something on accident and it refreshed the page without saving my progress so yea… Here’s my second try in doing this. I’m going through each entry one by one so that I don’t miss any detail.

As I read through my first entry I remember how I felt then. The feeling of weakness. It hurts to know that you’re weak whether you can do anything about it or not. On December 24, 2011 I found out that I was special ed. I had arrived back from the doctors and they said I had the ability to counted as special ed.

Here’s the little summary that I tell everyone. Up until I was five I had a tumor in my head. They removed it but from age six to nine I constantly went to the doctors to get my eyes checked. I have no memory of age ten. When I was eleven my aunt Aida died of Cancer. She was the woman that took care of me and she basically raised me and she was the one person who kept the family together. My life starts there. With that memory. My first true memory. The day my aunt died.

All my life up until that point I took the pleasure in knowing that I wasn’t special ed. I was told that I could have been and I was to be thankful. I was. That is—until my doctor told me that I was. It was a lot to take in. He talked to me as if I were stupid when we first met. I thought he was just being weird but once he said that I qualify for being special ed then I had to stop and almost asked him to repeat himself but he did it anyway in more of a softer tone. As if I was too stupid to understand so he would have to dumb down in words. It hit me hard. The right question for that moment was: You mean to tell me that my life is a lie? Up until this point…. I’m fifteen now and you’re saying that I’ve been lied to?! You what?! Why would you tell me this?! I was screaming in my head. I turned away and I hid the feelings. I boxed them up in such a way so that I could wait until I got home. Once I did I walked to my desk and began to type. I couldn’t take it anymore. The world was gone from existence as I wrote my feelings out. I was angry. One thing I can’t stand in knowing that I’m weak and yet there’s nothing that I can do about it. That’s why I do my best to be so positive. Because of times like these.

He told me that I need to tell all my teachers that I was special ed and that I need to be placed at a certain part of the room. I went to school after break and told one teacher. Justone. She told me that it’s best to do what I can with what I have and that if I needed to get moved for the better than I should. It was the only class I was placed in the correct spot. I didn’t dare to tell anyone else. Is it ironic that the class I was placed correctly In was my Advance Placement class? I had to drop it eventually but my teacher didn’t say anything after that. It was as if it didn’t make a difference and that made me happy.

I’m planning on telling my teachers after I have their class. I can’t stand walking up to someone and telling them that I’m special ed and then expect them to treat me as an equal. If someone were to walk up to me like that I’d accept them but that takes a lot of acceptance. I can stand by my word because I’ve done it many times.

Everything happens for a reason. It has been proven all my life. The reason why I write these entries and poems is so that I can learn about myself. What am I thinking when I’m upset? When I’mangry? How do I counteract this? That’s the reason. I love to learn and learning about myself is something that I also do. You’d think I’d know but I have gaps of memory in my mind and all I wanted to ever do is recover it. This resulted in just writing my thoughts out so I could find out myself. Basically, I’m writing my own history book. And no—it’s not altered by perspective. It’s just a huge autobiography.