... my freshman year when a classmate took his life. That's why I'm here - this forum.

How awful for you all Bobbi...did the school make counselors available so you could talk about it?

Did the Yellow Ribbon Program exist then? I was so fortunate to hear the Emmes speak when they came to our town...suicide is an awful thing to have in common. (((Bobbi)))

Yes, the school brought in counselors, only... how lame is this: My mother said I saw them, but, I don't remember having done so. My family moved shortly after. That total disruption (moving away), I suspect, didn't help.

If the Yellow Ribbon Program was in existence, I wasn't aware of it. Then, again, time following is a blur.

(((Bobbi)))

(((((bobbi))))))
thanks for sharing your story.

Thank you!

I know some people wish to re-count/relive or somehow re-enliven their H.S. years. But... those are ones if I had to forget I would rather. I don't have to let them fade from memory. I don't have the memories. I can't remember and I have been in counseling as an adult... and that counseling does emcompass for the dx of PTSD, layers and layers.

I've not been to any H.S. reunion and I doubt I'd go even if I received a gold-embossed invite.

The last I remember of that day: My friend reached into a paper lunch bag; he pulled out a sandwich and an apple and, then, a handgun. I heard another classmate tell him, "Don't do it!" It was too late . Our teacher's screams is the last memory I have of that day.

Who would want to be so young again? Not I. No thank you .

Someone just let me have a veranda and a white wicker rocker and plenty of Heavenly Blue morning glories, and I'll be content with just being where I am at whatever stage my life reaches to rock myself in contentment.