It was only after a severe crisis that I would find the key to my change, which is unfortunate in the one sense. While on the other, I got a kick-ass lesson you definitely WON’T find inside a conventional classroom. Or you could say I landed in a bigger class with different rules, which also meant that failing wasn’t an option.
Instead, there was only ever ONE WAY out of my delinquent school. Either I was to succeed and grow out of my bad ways, or say goodbye to any prospect of normality and get buried DEEP within a psych ward behind meds and botched-up paperwork. Otherwise, there was no in-between.
Though, I sometimes wish I could have learned my life lessons in everyday books, where one can theoretically measure human problems based on previously-felt sensations (in a limited or sheltered existence) and come to a reliable fix from the words of someone else’s experience. But this academic (yet somewhat anecdotal) approach was not the path for me. Instead, I got hands-on and dug into the dirt from day one as subjectivity was my only subject.
It was a little late. But “Better late than never”, as they say.