My middle school years were awkward to say the least. I was now in a public school, away from my sheltered Catholic school and the friends I had known since 2nd grade. I wasn't very pretty in the eyes of the other children my age and I was constantly tired and would daydream during classes. My grades were average, I never excelled in math or science. I always enjoyed english and being able to write my feelings down since no one seemed to want to or care to listen to what I had to say. It was my outlet.
I had a few good girlfriends in 6th and 7th grade, never a boyfriend. I liked boys from afar. They didn't give me the time of day so I never bothered to talk to them. It wasn't until the end of 7th grade/begining of 8th grade that I actually befriended a boy in my grade, Sam. He was funny, sweet, cute and most of all, I thought he liked me too! We both shared the same love for Nirvana and Kurt Cobain (hey, it was 1994!). I don't think I voiced my feelings for him until 8th grade. We would talk on the phone at night and write "notes" back and forth during school hours. 8th grade came and went. I have to say it was my favorite year in middle schhol. Perhaps I was finally becoming more social and somewhat confident or it was because I was finally learning what my first feelings of love could be. I was shocked and upset to find out that my crush, Sam was not planning to go to our local high school but rather a high school in Milwaukee. Sam and I became quite close the summer before our freshman year of high school and he promised me that our relationship would not change. He truely was my first love. The summer ended and so did my first relationship. I was devestated. He told me he loved me and then he hurt me. The attention Sam gave me made up for the attention and love I always had longed from my father. I enrolled and became a freshman in high school in September of 1994, with a broken heart.
I was excited to go to high school finally and get away from all those kids in middle school that cause me so much embarressment and pain.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Ok, now I get it
This cycle would continue in the the early morning hours. The next day we all got up for work and school, Mom would try to act like the night before never happened. My Dad would still smell like booze as he kissed me head and told me to have a good day at school. "Yeah, ok" I would think to myself as I prepared myself for another day at school where I had to go pretend to be "Me".
Being myself did not come easy. I never liked school from kindergarden on. I was scared to leave my Mom alone during the day. I used to hide in the middle school where I would have to transfer busses to go to my kindergarden. The school knew me and knew my Dad so they would call him to come get me and take me to school. Some days I put up such a fit that my Mom would have to come and personally take me into my classroom. I almost had to repeat kindergarden due to my lack of social skills. Sure, I had some friends, but I never wanted to be the center of attention. I was afraid that somehow, someway the other kids would find out what my home life was like by just looking at me. I now believe that this is the begining of the anxiety and panic disorder that I still deal with today .
Summers were great since I got to stay up late during the week and play outside all day with my sister. We had some 4th of July parties gowing up and attending the parades in Germantown were always a tradition. My Mom would always be prepared though. My Dad and family friends of ours would start drinking beers early in the morning and continue throughout the day. It was fun for me at the time, we would play all day with the other kids whos parents would be at the bars. These people became my family. Late into the night the "switch" was always pretty much flipped and I found that when my Dad drank with others, he would try to start fights. Verbal as well as physical. There were many times where I would be in bed, but of course not sleeping and my sister and I would listen as my Dad threatned to kill some of those good friends of ours that we had so much fun with earlier in the day. Did I believe my father could be this cold hearted killer that he claimed to be? Yes and no. I believe he has killed before when he was in war, he would come right out and tell us all that. I do not think that he would have hurt anyone and gotten away with it? Right?. My Dad was a deer hunter and would have rifles, shotguns and knives in the house. None of them were ever locked up but I came to know where they were kept. There were some nights when he would be so blacked out drunk that he came home from the bar to get a gun or a knife and leave to "take care of some business". Those were some of the scariest nights of my life.
I was excited to move to my Grandparents house out in the country but like all kids, sad to leave the few friends I had grown close to throughout grade school. I was almost finished with the 5th grade when we made the move and I got to start middle school in Mequon. I had never been to public school, my grade school years were spent in a private Catholic school. I was scared to death of starting a new school. I was scared to make new friends, I was scared to have friends come over to my house. I didn't want everyone to know what kind of home life I had outside of school. I was always great at covering up the truth. I imagined what I wanted my family to be and sometimes I would actually talk myself into the fantasy I created. That's the story I would tell the kids at school. I didn't think of it as lying at the time, I thought it was a dream that would someday come true.
Being myself did not come easy. I never liked school from kindergarden on. I was scared to leave my Mom alone during the day. I used to hide in the middle school where I would have to transfer busses to go to my kindergarden. The school knew me and knew my Dad so they would call him to come get me and take me to school. Some days I put up such a fit that my Mom would have to come and personally take me into my classroom. I almost had to repeat kindergarden due to my lack of social skills. Sure, I had some friends, but I never wanted to be the center of attention. I was afraid that somehow, someway the other kids would find out what my home life was like by just looking at me. I now believe that this is the begining of the anxiety and panic disorder that I still deal with today .
Summers were great since I got to stay up late during the week and play outside all day with my sister. We had some 4th of July parties gowing up and attending the parades in Germantown were always a tradition. My Mom would always be prepared though. My Dad and family friends of ours would start drinking beers early in the morning and continue throughout the day. It was fun for me at the time, we would play all day with the other kids whos parents would be at the bars. These people became my family. Late into the night the "switch" was always pretty much flipped and I found that when my Dad drank with others, he would try to start fights. Verbal as well as physical. There were many times where I would be in bed, but of course not sleeping and my sister and I would listen as my Dad threatned to kill some of those good friends of ours that we had so much fun with earlier in the day. Did I believe my father could be this cold hearted killer that he claimed to be? Yes and no. I believe he has killed before when he was in war, he would come right out and tell us all that. I do not think that he would have hurt anyone and gotten away with it? Right?. My Dad was a deer hunter and would have rifles, shotguns and knives in the house. None of them were ever locked up but I came to know where they were kept. There were some nights when he would be so blacked out drunk that he came home from the bar to get a gun or a knife and leave to "take care of some business". Those were some of the scariest nights of my life.
I was excited to move to my Grandparents house out in the country but like all kids, sad to leave the few friends I had grown close to throughout grade school. I was almost finished with the 5th grade when we made the move and I got to start middle school in Mequon. I had never been to public school, my grade school years were spent in a private Catholic school. I was scared to death of starting a new school. I was scared to make new friends, I was scared to have friends come over to my house. I didn't want everyone to know what kind of home life I had outside of school. I was always great at covering up the truth. I imagined what I wanted my family to be and sometimes I would actually talk myself into the fantasy I created. That's the story I would tell the kids at school. I didn't think of it as lying at the time, I thought it was a dream that would someday come true.
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