Getting Out but Not Coming Out

All the while that I was seeing my psychiatrist, Dr. James Krause, I was trying desparately to blend in with the rest of my friends. I had never been in the "in crowd" in high school but I had a strong bond with a number of other kids; some of which I had grown up with in grade school and others who I had met at Franklin High School.

Getting out of Morningside Hospital was a mixed blessing. While I was there, even though feeling somewhat abandoned, I was also greatly relieved. I had been living in a very violent household for most of the years we had lived in Oregon. My mother had had a violent temper and my father and she fought constantly. I was quite afraid of my mother. It wasn't until quite a few years later, that I began to understand what had caused her deep anxieties and anger. But at 16, I only knew fear and distrust of her. So while at Morningside, I was away from all of the anger and fear and violence. When I was told that I was being released from the hospital after 31 wonderfully quiet and calm days, I became quite depressed.

The day after I left Morningside, a friend, Tom, gave one of his improptu parties which he sometimes threw while his parents were out of town. All of my good friends were there as were my sister, Debbie, and some of her friends. Tom liked Debbie and included her in some of his soirees.

I had not seen any of my friends for the entire preceeding month, which also corresponded with the final weeks of the school year. While I was in the hospital, my parents had spoken with my guidance counselor who arranged for Morningside Hospital to administer my final exams. I ended up getting great grades at the end of that year. I don't know what my parents told the school officials, but many of my friends and my family (including all of my relatives in O'Neill, Nebraska) had been told that I had had a "nervous breakdown" and had to be hospitalized.

At Tom's party, no one questioned that explanation and I was quite relieved. I may have been forced out of the closet by the police at least to my parents, but at this point I wasn't ready to announce the fact that I was queer to the rest of the world.

It was such a relief to be free from Morningside, but I was scared to death that some of my more inquisitive friends might end up forcing the inevitable questions of why I was really gone for a month. Luckily for me, but unfortunately for one of my sister's friends, the spotlight was unexpectedly shifted from me in a very spectacular way.

Vicki Childers, Debbie's high school friend who had been living with my family for a few months, had always considered herself irresistable to most men. For some reason, at this particular party, in a play for one of my friends, John, Vicki quite nonchalantly leaned onto Tom's kitchen stove, placing her hand directly onto a very hot burner. Someone had wanted tea and had just removed a boiling kettle from the stove. After the initial scream and ensuing panic, the palm of Vicki's hand, which now had the most awe-inspiring spiral burn on it, was quickly cleansed and wrapped. You can well imagine that at that point, I was no longer the center of attention.

It was that summer that I began to understand that almost all of my friends that I had grown up with in grade school and my new friends in high school were also gay.