High School

Now we're going to take a walk down memory lane into those good ol' high school days.

In high school, I was basically a loser. I hung out with people who weren't popular, and although the popular people liked me and occasionally invited me places, I never accepted those invitations. I was pouring every ounce of myself into pleasing figures of authority as best as I could -- and also into pleasing the friends I had attached myself to. That's also why I never came out of the closet in high school.

I was into theater even then. (I've been acting since I was seven, so really no surprise there!) My bestie (at the time) Grace and I were both disappointed with the failing drama program that existed, so together we worked to fix it. We re-started the defunct drama club, and enticed teachers to help direct our shows. That first year we produced one show -- Inherit the Wind (in which I played a reporter and the "radio man"). With absolutely zero budget. And it was amazing! People loved it!
The next year, my junior year, our new director decided on two one act plays to produce and perform in one night. "Goldilocks on Trial" (in which I was Papa Bear) and "Cut". Again, they were done with zero budget and everyone loved them -- including our football-obsessed principal.

Junior year marked the beginning of possibly the most difficult two years of my life. During the run of our one acts, I had my very first flare up of Crohn's Disease -- a chronic illness that inflames the digestive system. (That's the simple explanation anyways.) For months, doctors were stumped about what was wrong with me. Eventually they came to a diagnosis. (April 1, actually, I thought they were kidding.) What followed was months of different medications, hospital visits, and tests.
Finally, senior year started and I thought all of that was behind me. I was given the lead role in the fall show, "Loving Lives" (which is hysterical, if you ever get the chance to see it, do!) For three and half months I memorized and rehearsed. Then two weeks before the show opened, I flared up again -- and this time worse than before. I was unable to perform at all and I was crippled with a pain that, as one of the nurses who helped me said, "made labor look like a walk in the park".
I was finally under control and released from the hospital days before final exams. I'd missed the auditions for all of theater schools I'd hoped to attend, so I was given no real choice but to go to a tiny little college in Amish country Pennsylvania. Worse, only three of my friends I'd worked so hard to keep happy for so much of high school had bothered to visit me in the hospital. I was more than a little devastated, I won't lie.

Exam week came and I returned to school only to discover that my supposed besties, the losers I'd been hanging out with since freshman year (minus Grace, who had long since detached from us) had decided to spread rumors that I wasn't actually sick, I was just playing hookie for an extended period of time. I still don't know why they thought that was a good idea, nor do I care. I quickly disassociated myself from them, with the only problem remaining being that I still had to sit with them at for dinner at Prom. (We managed to stay civil during the meal, and I haven't seen any of them since.)

Although the end was kind of depressing, high school was good in the long run. I learned that I have to make myself happy, I can't worry what my friends think about anything because how will you know if they're your true friends that way? You won't -- and that's never good. Since then, I've found the most fantastic people and surrounded myself with them.

Even Amish country turned out not to be so bad. Guess I can survive anywhere! :P

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