My Childhood and the First Time My Mental Illness Surfaced
I was a very compliant kid. One of my first memories of this is when I was in kindergarten. One morning before school, my mom put a glass mercury thermometer under my arm. She told me to not lift my arm. My mom got busy helping my sister, Ali, and forgot about the thermometer. A couple hours later, my teacher called my mom to ask why I was sent school with a glass thermometer under my arm.
I remember being a happy kid. I did my own hair every day before kindergarten---hair gel and spiked straight up---and being excited to go to school. We lived in a neighborhood filled with other families and there were plenty of kids for me to play with. I made friends with older kids and played back yard football. I remember all the kids in the neighborhood sledding on the neighbors hill in the winter and chasing lighting bugs in the summer.
I was born and raised in Lafayette, Indiana in 1984—so a millennial. I am the oldest child and have one sibling, my younger sister, Ali. My mom graduated from Purdue University and was a member of the varsity cheerleading team. My dad went to Vincennes University and received an associate’s degree and then started his career at the Tippecanoe County Sheriff’s Department.
Ali and I played together and got along well. My mom did everything with me and Ali. She loved being a mom so much and put in so much effort to raise and support me and Ali. I don’t remember my mom and dad arguing or yelling in front of me and Ali. My dad worked long hours but when my dad was not working he was very devoted to spending quality time with me and Ali. I missed him when he was away. I am sure I felt sad, but I never would have thought to tell my parents that I felt sad. I developed the habit at an early age to minimize any negative emotions and keep them below the surface.
When I was in fourth grade, my dad decided to run for sheriff. I remember my parents telling me this meant that whenever we are in public, people will know who we are and watch how we act. I think most kids would have let this go in one ear and out the other. I took it very seriously. I put pressure on myself and I guess some pressure was put on me to behave to help my parents look good. I loved my parents very much and I always wanted to make them proud of me.
The campaign brought along a lot of things that I did not like doing. I tagged along with my dad to fish fries, fundraisers, and other public events. I was painfully shy. It became common place to walk around with my dad and talk to people who I didn’t know but they knew me. I learned how to manage on the outside but it made me squeamish on the inside. Again I never thought to tell my parents how I was feeling.
My dad won the election. After my dad became sheriff, I was treated differently. All of the sudden, when we were in public it felt like everyone knew me. Kids at my school started calling me the Sheriff’s Son. When I turned on the TV my dad was now regularly on the news. I remember one news story that made quite an impact on me. A stolen pickup truck, loaded with explosive devices, was intentionally driven into the Tippecanoe County Courthouse. Luckily, the explosive devices failed to detonate and only smoke and water damage resulted. An attempted courthouse bombing sent shockwaves through our safe close-knit community. The law enforcement response was intense. The FBI and federal investigators from across the country quickly became involved and my dad was in the center of it all. Unfortunately, no arrest was ever made.
It was never talked about in our family but I always knew that when my dad left for work, especially when he got called out in the middle of the night, that he may not make it home. I think that is something on the minds of any child in a law enforcement family. When my dad came home from work, he did not talk about work, ever. I never talked to my parents or anyone about how that made me feel. It was just I was used to. I did not know anything different. Fortunately, my dad had an outstanding career in politics and is now retired and is healthy and enjoying being a grandfather to my two kids and Ali’s two kids.
Being the sheriff’s son was not all bad. I would get to do things like escort Dick Vitale, the ESPN commentator, in my dad’s police car, when ESPN came to broadcast Purdue basketball games. My sister and I got to ride in an old-fashioned police car during the local Christmas parade. From second grade on, I went to all of the Purdue games with my dad. We would first go to the visiting team’s hotel and lead the police escort to the stadium. Then I would go with my dad on the field and in the locker rooms before the game.
I was in fifth grade when I had my first girlfriend. I remember being at the house and the phone rang. My parents answered the phone and told me it was for me. I picked up the phone and my girlfriend was on the other line. I remember thinking, I did not realize having a girlfriend meant talking on the phone. How do I get myself out of this? I doubt that I had even told my parents that I had a girlfriend and was not looking forward to that conversation. Not surprisingly, that didn’t last long. She broke up with me for another boy a few weeks later. I was relieved.
I remember being happy and had several friends in sixth grade. I had always played baseball in the summer and played on the all-start teams. I also made friends from playing basketball. In seventh grade, I played football and basketball for the middle school team. In the spring, I joined the middle school golf team. I still wasn’t that interested in girls. I remember having one girlfriend in seventh grade but I broke up with her after a few weeks, right before the incentive class field trip to an amusement park because I didn’t want to be coupled up for that. As my peers began to experiment with alcohol and drugs, I started to isolate socially because of being the sheriff’s son. I decided to avoid any gatherings where alcohol or drugs may be involved.
One day my mom asked me if I liked any girls at school. Of course, I liked the prettiest girl in the school who was out of my league. I told my mom the name of the girl and she did not have the best reaction. She told me that she thought she was “hot-to-trot”. I didn’t know what that meant. I asked my mom and she said that means she wants to have sex. I was in sixth grade of course that was not true. It did make me feel more timid about girls. Maybe that is what my mom was going for.
I went with a group of friends to a haunted mansion. It was a group of girls and boys and was one of the first times I had done that. After the haunted mansion, we went to the house of the girl that I liked. I forgot to call my parents when I got to the girl’s house. My parents got really nervous because I had not called, so they called the girl’s parents. Instead of just letting me stay, since they knew where I was, they came and picked me up. I got reamed out by my mom at the girl’s house and everyone knew I had to leave because I was in trouble. I never went back to the girls house.
My first kiss was the summer before eighth grade. I was at Columbian Park with a group of friends outside the baseball stadium. We were there for the Colt World Series, which is baseball tournament. Somehow it was arranged between our friends that this girl and I were going to kiss. We met each other under a tree and we French kissed. She became my girlfriend. A couple weeks later I got to second base, while we were at her house watching tv with a group of her friends.
One day we had a half-day of school and I went with her to a boys house who I didn’t know and my parents did not know the boys parents. Usually, my parents only let me do something like that if they knew the parents. If they knew where I was going they would not have approved.
There was a group of boys and girls hanging out and the parents left us unsupervised. There were bunk beds and we were all laying together watching tv. I started making out with my girlfriend and then put my hand up her shirt like I had done before. Then I kept going. I took off her bra, put my head under the covers and sucked her tits. Talking to girls was not my strong suit but I like the physical part. When I left, I did not feel like I had done anything wrong.
What I didn’t realize was that we were the first or one of the first in our circle to do that. So, what we did became gossip. Especially since I was the sheriff’s son and had such a reputation as a rule follower. Kids started asking me about it at school. I hated it. I felt like everyone in school knew and everybody was talking about it. This is the first time I remember feeling shame. And it felt intense. I did not want to feel like that ever again. The experience made me shy away from girls and I crawled closer into my shell.
I did not have a girlfriend the first couple years of high school. I did go to a few dances but did not have much of a social life. I did go to a dance my junior year with a girl who I dated for a couple months. And that was it—-just one girlfriend in high school and no sex.
My mom did not work while I was in high school so she could spend more time us. She made us a hot breakfast every day before school. In the summer, she drove me across the state to play in junior golf tournaments. I did not have a job until after I graduated from high school.
I was obsessive about studying and my grades. I felt a lot of pressure to achieve but it was all internal pressure. I was a straight A student, but I didn’t score high on the SAT. My parents told me I could go to any college I wanted. I had my mind made up that I wanted to go out of state. I decided to apply to Duke, Emory, Vanderbilt, Wake Forest, and North Carolina. DePauw University and Wabash College were my in-state safety schools. Then one day in the fall of my senior year, everything changed.
I ran out of my neighborhood and turned right and ran on 9th Street until I got to 350 South. Then I turned right and ran on 350 South until I got to Poland Hill Road. I turned right on 300 South and ran back to 9th Street. I then turned left and ran on 9th Street to Armstrong Park. I then turned around and ran south on 9th Street. I passed the railroad tracks, crossed the intersection to the Other Pub Restaurant, and crossed Twychenham Boulevard.
The next thing I knew I was on the ground. I felt fatigued in a way I have never felt before. I wasn’t in any pain. I didn’t trip. I did not twist an ankle or injure myself in any way. I just collapsed. I was laying in the grass because I had zero energy. It was like I ran into an imaginer brick wall. I did not even have the energy to open my eyes. I felt numb. I was laying in the grass on a street with cars driving by and I was just lying there. After a couple minutes of this went by I was able to open my eyes. I then struggled to move a limb. Eventually, I was able to move my arms and push myself up into a seated position. I wanted to lay back down but I forced myself to stand up. I took a couple steps and went straight back to the ground.
It felt like a bad dream. I felt semi-paralyzed. I was so confused. I have never experienced something like this ever before. After a couple more times of struggling to stand up and collapsing back to the ground after a couple of steps I remember thinking how am I going to make it home?
I don’t remember the exact chain of events but I know I was in the local hospital for a couple days. The doctors did all kind of testing on my brain and everything came back normal. My parents drove me to Minneapolis to the Mayo Clinic. Same result. A lot of testing, everything came back normal.
For several months, I could not make it through the entire school day without having an episode during class. My brain would just shut down. I couldn’t keep my eyes open and I would have to put my head down on the desk. Someone in my class would help me walk to the nurse’s office. It was bizarre. I had never asked to be excused from class or even been to the nurse’s office before. There were several times where doing homework caused my brain to shut down in the same way. I got behind in my classes and decided to drop my Advanced Placement Calculus Class. I was worried that I was not going to be able to complete my classes and graduate on time. I went from being a high performer to mentally impaired.
Before this happened, I was always motivated to pay attention in class, complete my homework, and study for tests. It was just what I did. I woke up and did it without a thought. Suddenly, I entered a new world.
I was diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder. I was prescribed Paxil and started working with a therapist. The episodes continued for several months but the medicine and therapy helped to lessen the symptoms. By the spring semester, I learned how to use self-management tools and was able to resume my normal class schedule. By summer, I had fully recovered.
My parents were very concerned about me taking the medicine that was prescribed. They did their own research and read the disclaimers and it scared them. They read about the possible correlation with suicide. Even though I had been diagnosed with general anxiety disorder, we didn’t view it as a permanent illness. So, when I started feeling much better my parents encouraged me to stop taking the medicine. I was even told that it was okay for me to say that I don’t have depression when I am asked about my medical history. When I left home and started my first semester of college that fall I stopped going to therapy.
The medicine, the therapy, and the increased awareness allowed me to regain my normal way of life. But the question in the back of my head remained, was I cured or will it happen again? I basically went off to college with an untreated mental illness.
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