I was a freshman at LW in 1990. Yes, I went to LW. Weird, I know. I grew up going to church and went to a
Christian grade school. I believed in
God and even had moments of ‘I dig God,’ but something struck me on a Tuesday
in November of that year.
I was pretty stoked (how’s that for a ‘90s terms!) about
high school because it was so different from grade school. Teachers weren't harping on you for every little
thing and there were so many new people!
In particular, I had made friends with a few upperclassmen and that was
a major thrill! I danced for the first
time at a dance (what a concept!), actually liked some of my classes, and best
of all, I started to go out on the weekend with friends.
It was about this time that I began being really conscious
of how I felt about myself and my life.
Maybe when I was younger I just didn’t think about it. But, now, with all this exciting stuff
happening I knew that I could feel good about myself when I had had a good
time. Going out with my upperclassmen
friends on the weekend was a huge part of whether I could feel good or
not.
It was pretty shaky ground to base my life upon,
however. Arguments with parents,
criticism, a boring weekend, getting dumped, all of these made me feel crummy
and depressed. Still, most of the time,
I was in good spirits. Then came a
fateful day.
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