From 1992-1999 I could officially be classified as a "teenager". A necessary evil in every society I suppose. August 9Th, 1992, I turned 13. My grandfather bought me a giant rum cake. It was thoroughly enjoyed by everyone but me. (Not that I let him know that) I didn't know it at the time, but this birthday would be a sort ending to my childhood. The day of my party was the last day I would ever see my best childhood friend. She was a huge part of my life. Her parents had gotten a divorce a few months earlier and she'd moved to NC with her mom. She was back in NJ for a month that summer visiting her father. I still miss her, and wonder what her life is like now.
In September eighth grade began. I have never like school all that well, but this year was of particular inconvenience to me. (other girls where busy throwing themselves at boys, i was busy throwing myself into horses) I found my niche. I was good at it, and constantly getting better. Riding was what I was suppose to do, I was sure of it. I guess this is how other kids felt about baseball or basketball. By the end of October that year my horse had to be put to sleep. To say that I was upset, wouldn't come close to how I felt. But I had a teacher that helped me through it marvelously. In hind site, I wouldn't have gotten as good as i did if things had not happened in this way. This was the year I also had one of my first big crushes. The farm I rode at had a foreign exchange student from Spain. I know pretty cliche', but that's the truth. He was a good pal anyway, and definitely helped me hone my chauvinist pig radar.
So, school was definitely in the way of my career as an equestrian super star. (loll) I was in all the middle of the road level classes. Not stupid, not smart, average. Since my popularity climaxed in the first grade, school did nothing for me socially either. A few straggling friends from elementary school I passed the time with were my school day cohorts. I didn't have anytime for them after school, I was busy with my riding. Not that they were at all interested in hanging out anyway.
Something else I had no time for, the saxophone. I was in the band since 4Th grade. The teacher I got for this year of band, put any hopes of that continuing further, well to rest. The crazy woman wanted me to practice.
It should be noted, my father worked nights, i really could not practice at home. She didn't buy it, so after a few months of fighting with her i quit.
Good ridden!
I made some new friends through riding. I had never had the experience of people seeking me out as a friend. Apparently it happens sometimes when your good at something. Who'd have guessed? We had things in common, likes dislikes, and horses being the big thing of course. But there was something VERY different about them, money. There parents had it by the truck full.
They had new cars, computers, rooms in there houses that no one went into, they went on vacations!! It was truly surreal to witness this sort of lifestyle. I new there were people that lived in those giant houses, i just never thought they'd invite me inside. This sort of sums up the class differences. My mom was driving a 74' Dodge Dart Swinger, your feet got wet if it was raining or if you drove through a puddle. Everyone of the girls I was friends with got carted around in a shinny, new that year, luxury something. Some turned out to be real snobs, surprise surprise, but a few were awesome and we're still friendly today.
So basically, what I lacked in socialization during school hours, I made up for with these guys.
I finished middle school, and begrudgingly went to my eighth grade graduation. The day before which, I broke my toe (i.e. horse hoof), and my shoes wouldn't fit. I wore loafers that had a few holes to the ceremonies. My mother was mortified.
I had always been way down on the list of popularity in school. I got picked on a great deal. (looking like olive oil didn't really help either) But, before high school began in the fall of 1993, i figured somethings out: glasses are the enemy, its not bad to keep your mouth shut, and most importantly clothes. I was always a disaster with clothes. This is what I discovered, If I wore things no one had ever seen, and I would have never picked out for myself, I was cool. Lucky for me, there were plenty of size 2's that were ugly on sale racks all over. And I finally incorporated things I actually like into my wardrobe. So dressing "better" and not wearing glasses did a lot to reduce my stress during school.
I did pretty well in my classes, my teachers stopped calling me average. All my subjects accept math (my teacher was horrible), recommended me for honors classes for my sophomore year.
I had an art teacher that really made me think, and really improved my work in that area. Shoot, i even got good grades in P.E. All this positive school stuff and continued success with the horses, was mind blowing. Besides having horrible crush making me bonkers, Life could not have been better.
April 20something, 1994. I was getting ready for school. We lived in an old house, it had a tub, but no shower. So, i was in the bath tub when it happened. My first panic attack. They sound like BS until your standing naked in the bath tub screaming at the top of your lungs. Needless to say, I didn't make it to school that day. My mom had had problems with depression, suicide, drugs alcohol, etc., so she new she had better take me to the doctor. I honestly don't remember if it was that day or the next but i remember what i wore. I remember trying to pick out something that wouldn't make me look crazy. My mom had been locked up when i was a child, and becoming like her was one of my greatest fears, all be it unrealized until this point.
The doctor gave me some dopey med, told me to take 2 weeks off from school, and see him every 2 weeks. I had panic attack after panic attack. And when i tried to go back to school they got worse. Feeling as though you have no control over your body has got to be one of the worst feelings ever. I didn't go back to school that year. I had tutors, and we moved to another school district in the fall. Not because of my problems, it just happened to work out that way. I got quite a bit worse before i got better. I never did go back to HS. The new district tested me and said i was more then smart enough for the classes but didn't trust my emotional state provided me the ability to complete the work. So i had tutors for another year. another year of average work. work i had already done in 8Th and 9Th grade. it was more mind numbing then the medications they gave me.
The doctors figured out in early 1995 that i was bipolar. So the medicines changed, and I actually started getting better. I really thought I was going to have a regular junior and senior year of HS. In May, my life would change forever.
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