Jennifer
Autobiographical Narrative Final Draft
Ms. Priester
English 10 Q1
7/16/10
My Biggest Decision
I was going to do it. I thought I knew what I was doing. I wanted to die and I was going to. I had it all planned out. The only thing I hadn’t planned on was someone saving me. My mom had always been abusive and it had gotten to the point where I could not take it anymore. I was afraid of my mom, I still am. But when it got to the point where I had to make a choice, I was more afraid than I had ever been.
I was walking to school, thinking, today was the day I was going to do it. I went through the school day in a daze, and come sixth period, I was eager for the end of the day; for my escape. When, towards the end of the period, I was pulled out of class, I was afraid. Had someone found me out? When I got to the office, there was a social worker waiting for me. Someone had told, just not about my suicide plans. They had told on my mom. Looking back now, I could have lied. I could have told the worker that everything was fine, go home, and carry out my plans. But that had not come to mind at the time. I just told the truth. I told them everything that had happened; the way I was treated, and, to tell the whole story, what I was going to do that day. When I told her that final detail, and showed her the notebook in which I had written the specifics, she believed my story. Both school and city police were brought in and I had to repeat my story. After an hour or two of questioning, I was taken to Palomar Hospital, and from there I was taken to Mesa Vista Hospital. I was only beginning to see the enormity of what I had just done.
My stay at Mesa Vista lasted a week. It was really weird for me being in a mental hospital. My friend had been there before, but I felt out of place. Everyday, my father and my grandmother came to visit me. That didn’t make me any more comfortable. Don’t get me wrong, I was glad to have them around, but I was not used to their presence. My mom had always kept me from them and I did not know them all too well. Still, it made me feel a little bit better about my current situation. They made me feel as if I was not completely alone. My roommates helped too. They were involved in completely different situations, but they were normal teenagers. People who had normal problems, just escalated. I saw a psychologist daily and the day before I left he told me that the next day, my mom would be taking me to YMCA Oz, a transitional group home that was meant to prepare teens leaving the hospital for returning to their homes. My stay at Oz was going to be two weeks long.
I was afraid that day. It was the first time I had seen my mom since I had left her house. My fears were useless. Through the entire drive from Kearny Mesa to Oceanside, my mom did not say a word to me. Through the interview process and moving my stuff into the house, she never even acknowledged my presence. I was grateful for that. Then she left, and I was alone again. I did not miss her when she left, it was just the sense of familiarity that I wanted. Even though I was not alone at Oz, I was isolated. No one wanted to be around me, and sadly enough, I was okay with that. I accepted it. I welcomed it. I had spent all of my life on my own so it was nothing new. I had therapy with my mom once a week and both sessions included my mom yelling, threatening to kill herself, then her walking out. When my two weeks were up, I knew I could not go back. Once I had told the social worker about my home life three weeks earlier, I knew I could not go back. At the end of my residence at Oz, when my mom came to pick me up, I refused to go with her.
When I refused to go home, I was taken to an assessment center where I spent an afternoon filling out surveys regarding my mental health and my past with my mother. At the end of the day, I was taken to Casa de Amparo, a group home in Oceanside at the Mission San Luis Rey. When I arrived at Casa, I had been out of the home for three weeks . At this point, I was used to being out of the house. It was good that I was getting adjusted because I knew that I would never be going back. By now, I was actually set on moving in with my dad in Kearny Mesa. During my stay at Casa, I was given the opportunity to tour San Pasqual Academy. Although I had not been able to form my own opinion of SPA, my roommate despised the place. Based on her idea of where my social worker was trying to get me to go, I started out with a biased outlook. When I took the tour, I viewed everything in a negative manner, only because my roommate gave me the idea that SPA would not be a place where I could be happy. After the tour, I was dead set against going there. A representative from V and Daughters, a group home in Mira Mesa, came to interview me and because I was so against going to SPA I decided to go to this new group home. I had spent only two months in the foster care system when I moved.
I spent only two weeks at V and Daughters. There were three other girls in my house and one of them did whatever she could to upset me. I was miserable there and it was not just my home life that was depressing me. School was much worse. I hated the school so much that I only attended one day, and by the end of that day, I was crying. I had never been the new kid in my life, and the first time that I was I could not handle it. I hadn’t ever felt so hopeless. Because I was so unhappy I decided I had to get out and I finally agreed to go to San Pasqual Academy.
Upon my arrival at SPA I was again afraid. This was my third placement since I had entered the system, but this time was different. Both of my prior residencies were small places with just a couple of kids. SPA is a large campus with over one hundred students, and I did not know anyone. It was Mira Mesa High all over again. Eventually, though, I made a couple of friends and began to feel comfortable here. I have therapy and three times I had conjoint sessions with my mom. Those were the worst hours I had experienced since leaving the home. In the last one, my mom told me that “she never wanted anything to do with me again” and that if I were to show up on her doorstep in twenty years to introduce her to her grandchildren she would tell me to “go the hell away.” Other than my mom’s increased hostility towards me, I’ve been relatively happy since I came to SPA.
My decision to leave my mom was the best thing that I have ever done for myself. This experience has changed my entire life. It may have taken away everything that was familiar to me, but it gave me a whole new way of living. It has also changed my outlook on everything. In the beginning, I had been afraid, afraid that I was making a mistake. Although I was afraid that I may have made a mistake, I was more afraid that I had made the right choice; afraid that for once I was in control of my own life.
