I guess the first one didn't describe enough. The new parts are in BOLD.
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I have been drawing my whole life, quite literally. That would be the reason I did so poorly in school Half of the time. It doesn't excuse my lack of ambition, although it's still the truth. My life consisted of video games, drawing, music and friends. School had never been important to me while growing up. Not giving 100%, or rather, not even giving 25% of my true efforts towards school has been a haunting mistake that I regret more than I like to admit.
Most of my distractions stemmed out from my home life, but what didn't help much was that I had been a rebellious child from the very begining. I earned my poor grades, and at the time I didn't care. The end result of being confined to a room with nothing but a bed, a guitar, paper and pencils for months at a time had been a punishment I've earned. It isn't easy for me to explain the extreme level of discontent I had with my life. I never had a real father, so my mother was forced to worked all of the time. This would leave me to be alone half of the time growing up. I lied to my parents about school work, so it's not their fault. My mother did the absolute best she could. It's not her fault I failed.
I can't give you a reason why I failed in high school that wouldn't sound like an excuse. I've grown to learn that there are no excuses or reasons for failure if you do your best. The only 'reason' I failed is because I just did. I suffered from what they called an attention deficit disorder, along with a depressive disorder. Pill after pill, several psychologists and psychiatrists, and total isolation from the world around me allowed me to pushed myself into a whole where all I'd do was sketched or write music. I never spoke to my parents and some how lost most of my ability to be social.
My mother had no idea how to deal with me, so I was sent to live with my father around the time of my tenth grade year. This was a terrifying time in my life because I didn't know my father that well. His remedy to deal with my lack of attention in high school was to beat me just about every night that he'd come home from work. This only pushed me deeper into isolation. I don't blame my father though, like I said, I did this to myself and obviously that was the best he could do for me.
I was thrown out of my fathers house, literally, and sent back to live with my mother after a year and a half of what I've come to recognize as borderline hell. My mother had rented an apartment for me to live in while I attended Springfield High School since she lived in Struthers and my father wouldn't let me use his address. This was the best my Mom could do for me at the time, being that my mother and my step father were having marital issues so without anyone around to tell me what to do, I did what ever my 17 year old heart wanted, except home work and studying, while still attending school.
At the time, a girl I had fallen for seemed to have great significance over school, or anything at that. I was deeply concerned for her more so because she had repeated attempts of suicide for the couple years we were together, on top of drug and alcohol abuse causing this to be my biggest distraction yet. This, my senior year, would be my downward spiral into severe depression.
Out of high school, I played guitar in a band while working random jobs just for extra money while I lived with my mother. I started taking drugs, i suppose in an attempt to escape life's obligations. I hit rock bottom when I found out that I had got a girl pregnant. Although scared at the time, this event would be the one that saved me from a life of drugs and possibly suicide.
I saw and still see the light in my daughters eyes. This happening had gave me a reason to live and do well. I felt like I could start my life over by giving her a better one then I had given myself. I started working towards life long career goals by trying everything from HVAC, to production work in a potting factory, in and out of schools experimenting with new career choices only to realize that this is what I should have been doing this whole time. But high school wasn't all bad.
In the tenth grade, my art teacher entered a self portrait of mine, as well as 130 other drawings from other students into a local art contest at the Butler Art Museum in Youngstown Ohio. My portrait was the only one that was selected out of 130 people for enrollment into a regional competition. I won Springfield High School a blue ribbon for the first time ever for submitting a portrait I made during my Math, English, Science and elective classes over the course of a week. This would be the pattern of my high school career. I was very distracted by problems in my personal life while art had to of been the only outlet that kept me happy.
The bottom line is that I feel deeply and truly that I am qualified to attend the art school. I've been through a lot growing up but still, I'm not the child from high school that I used to be. I'm a grown man with priorities, a daughter whom which I'm prepared to give anything to make sure she receives the stable home life, and an adult with real life goals. My education is not just for me, it's for the for the both of us and this is what I'm good at.
Design has always and will remain to been my greatest strength, and I do have the talent and perseverance it takes to achieve my goals as an art student. I am completely aware of what I'm capable of and that would be in the general area of a 4.0. I've passed an IQ test in high school with an above average rating. I've matured since my years in high school and am prepared to do what ever it takes to succeed and I hope that you could understand that I am regretting everyday the mistakes I've maybe in school regarding future career decisions. I was born to be an artist.
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