As the time frame of this story predates tfo by two years, we'll have to briefly revisit the events in question. I spent the majority of twelfth grade in a deep mental funk. I became even more withdrawn than normal; my weekend nights, when not slinging movies at Northport Video, were spent hunkered down in front of my computer. Much of that time was spent writing some depressing (and downright naive) stuff. Not even admission into the Ivy League - and more importantly, the college I wanted from the beginning - broke me out. I was happy for a week, maybe a week and a half, but then it was back to the old. It wasn't until the summer that my mental state finally began to rise, as I began to prepare for the next phase of my life in Ithaca.
I've known for many years that these events and feelings were nearly entirely of my own making, and not the fault of those around me. But only over the last couple of months has it come into clearer focus. As I've juxtaposed 1999 against 2009, it's become clear that the cause of my spiral was a total freakout at the prospect of everything in my life changing, and in a short period of time. I had no idea how to face that, and I ended up handling it by running from it. I look back on those days, I can't help but laugh at myself, as well as be thankful for the experience that followed - and yes, that includes all I've done in the Navy. And I'm also grateful for both going through senior year and the wisdom to have seen the cause - because that makes the easy task of weathering the coming transitions that much simpler.
("More Sunscreen" will be a recurring series here at twelve fluid ounces, consisting of recollections and reflections on high school, as we run up to the Northport High School Class of 1999's ten-year reunion on November 28 (location yet undetermined). The name is a combination of "More Cowbell" and "Wear Sunscreen.")