Chapter 3: Hear Me Out

I am an artist. I have known this the whole time. I knew this since kindergarten. I met a teacher and she did art. I started working in art a little bit more. And my mom used to go to school here to and she had the same art teacher. My mom dropped out of school, though. She was in 10^th grade. My mom got her G.E.D. at Life Skills. She was in her early twenties. I don’t remember it though. I was too little. My mom ended up going to college and she got her first accounting degree. She needed more education to actually do something with it, so it didn’t help her get a job. My mom is an artist. She liked to paint and draw too. She stopped doing this work, because my mom got into drugs and stuff and it all went downhill from there. My mom didn’t get the help she needed. She has been to 36 rehabs but hasn’t coined out once. My mom gets kicked out of those places. She never finishes. She would either find a way to get high, touch someone, not follow the rules or not do her treatment. I don’t live with my mom any more. I lived with her in the past and we would live together if she was with her boyfriends. Now, I live with my great grandmother. It’s my mom’s grandmother. She is not an artist though. She can’t even draw a stick figure.