Naked as a JayBird #4

In 7th grade my family moved from our trailer (Lemmon Valley) into a home in Reno. We lived very close to Clayton Middle School off King’s Row. I continued with football, basketball, track, wrestling, and intramural sports. I stopped doing my homework and just wanted to play sports all the time. Shortly after moving into our new home, my dad told me, “You’re a skinny faggot.” This is the day that I decided that something was wrong with me being slender, so I started lifting weights in the garage. I was 12.

I made some “friends” from the different teams I was in, but my closest friends were the: New Wavers, Punks, and Goths. I had two aspects to my social life: jocks I spent a lot of time with practicing, and the friends outside of sports that I preferred to hang-out with. My group of friends liked art and music as a priority. We also had a knack for writing sad poems/songs and having pity parties.

Half-way through my 7th grade year, I got anti-social again. I didn’t want to be around people and always “felt” rejected. For the remainder of 7th and 8th grade, I excelled as a running back and a 100 yard sprinter. Kids gave me a lot of attention, so that got to my head again. I was good at running fast, but kind of resented it because the “relationships” were based on what I did (run fast), not who I was. Somehow, I managed to be the 7th and 8th grade class president.

In 9th grade, I was still heavy into sports and looked pretty much like the lead singer of A Flock of Seagulls. Rebellion was well-developed since 6th grade, and I was ready to fight the world. Being a jock was a negative thing for me, so I pretty much didn’t talk with teammates during practice even. My lower back was starting to hurt at this time when I played football. My freshman year of football was a season full of success/touchdowns for me. I was running 2-4 touchdowns a game for the McQueen Freshman team. Somehow, I managed to be the Freshman Class President.

From 7-9th grade, I secretly hated my life. I performed sports for my dad, my classmates, and for my wounded-soul for approval. The real me wanted to learn instruments, paint, write, and make poems. The real me got pushed away even more. I remember like it was yesterday how sad and lonely I felt—even with people around me at school or in sports—they weren’t my friends—I hated them. Lie: People ONLY hurt people—I vowed that I’d had enough of that and all people were enemies/adversaries.

10th grade began the painful/needed melt-down………