After California came Bitburg, Germany. I don't recall much, but I do have some memories. I remember some of preschool and playing in the snow. I was a happy kid. Playing was my forte, especially in the sandbox. My sister was born a year after we moved to Germany, and a year after that my parents decided to tour Europe while they could. My memories are vague on the whole thing; I just wish I could go back and see Europe again so I can remember it. Next came Las Vegas, which was a short tour of duty, compared to Germany at least -- 2 years! Then we were back in Germany. This time we were stationed at Ramstein, and we lived in Volgelweh in Kaiserslautern. Moving, at this point, was becoming difficult. I always wanted to go back to where we lived last, but that just wasn't possible.
Kaiserslautern is where I met one of my best friends, Jennifer. We have been friends since we were 8 years old. We always had fun playing in the playground and in the woods in the back of housing. It was also fun when school went on a Volksmarch (10K or 6 mile walk). My favorite memory of that time was Girl Scouts. Not only did we get our dad's for one special night, the Father-Daughter Banquet, we also made an exciting trip. We took the train to Berlin, East Germany (remember, this was during the Cold War). That is a trip I will never forget. Leaving Germany was easy though, since all my friends I had made had left before me. Although I must admit, I didn't want to move to a new place yet again.
When we left Germany, that meant an end to active duty Air Force, and we basically settled down in St. Louis. Misery used to be my term for Missouri. I wasn't happy there. No one could understand this kid who moved there from Germany. They thought I must be a Nazi or something. That is what the kids said at least. Being shy at that point made things even more difficult, but then again, I wasn't happy at all when I got there, and things just went downhill. At 10 years old, I had my first depression. By the next year, I was seriously considering suicide. I was talking about it. Planning it. Something was seriously wrong, and my parents didn't know what to do. They just did not know how serious it was. By the time they had come to the decision to get me some help, when I was 13, I "snapped" out of my low. They figured it had just been a part of puberty. The depression had just vanished.
I liked high school when it first started. It was exciting and new. So many more people to meet and blend in with. I had also been playing the flute for three years and had joined the marching and concert bands. Taking marching competition trips was fun. I was on the JV Pom squad, and joining a lot of clubs. Nothing could be more exciting. My sophomore year I was a cheerleader. Something I loved, but I never made the squad after that, which disappointed me (I tried out all 4 years). However, my senior year, I was a drum major in the marching band.
As I have described there were some great moments, but overall I wouldn't go back to repeat one. It was too cliquish, and I really didn't have any close friends, although I had a lot of friends in number. To tell the truth, I had a lot of acquaintenances in number. No friends. No one to share my thoughts and feelings with. My Junior year yielded a fight with one of my closest friends that ended our friendship and ended up alienating some of our joint friends. By my Senior year I had my second severe episode with depression. I even held pills in my hand, ready to swallow each and every one of them, until I looked at myself in the mirror and told myself I would be leaving St. Charles, MO soon. I wouldn't have to see my "so-called" friends anymore if I didn't want. I had a future ahead of me that I was looking forward to. Right before my graduation day, I had one of my proudest moments. I earned the NHS Scholarship from my high school. That gave me quite a high. Not only would it help me pay for books at the University of Kansas, where I was headed in the fall, but it also made me feel that I earned some respect among my peers.
Confessions | My Early Years | College Years
