Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Second Year fears

This was supposed to go out around 4/20.

There was a very surreal feeling to returning to Purdue for my second year.  Those who have followed my blog the past several months, since I started telling my story, will know that I ended up attending three different high schools.  Going to Purdue as a Freshman, was my fourth new school in five years.

With my first high school, Mercy, I had hoped to have four good years with my friends before we moved on.  I got two.  My junior year, at the public school, I had the possibility of a second year there.  I wasn't sure whether I wanted that or not, but it was possible.



But then I found myself starting all over again at a new school for my senior year.  I didn't see much point in getting to know people that I would be saying goodbye to in 9 months.  One person pushed their way in and refused to let me check out.  A couple of others I remember, we'd talk at our lockers before the school day started.  That's about it.

So, returning to Purdue's campus for my second year... KNOWING the routines, knowing my way around campus, having friends that I already knew... it was nice, but unsettling.  I kept feeling like something, or someone, would come in and take it all away from me.  Hey, it happened the last time I fell in love with a school.  It happened the last time I felt at home.  What would prevent it now?

That may have been about the time that my father started talking about going back to school.  He got a M.S. in meteorology from St. Louis University while we were stationed at Scott AFB.  (Well, to be technical, he finished the classes while we were there, then did his project over the modem from Omaha.)  Apparently, Purdue had the only School of Meteorology in Indiana.

So, if my father's second career continued to not work out, he was talking about becoming a student on my campus.  I found that scary, even threatening.  I didn't want my parents involved or interfering with my friends, my life as a student.  And I didn't even think about what would happen if the whole family moved to the area, and my folks started asking me to babysit the almost-3 and almost-4-year olds.

I started (continued?) having nightmares, nightmares about being chased.