AUgust 22, 1993 • A really bad night

Six months before I got this crazy idea to go backpacking through Europe I had a really bad night.

It was Friday August, August 22, and we were having another Friday night party at the Dome. We had A LOT of parties at the Dome, we had been one of the biggest party houses in Kearney for the past year, and now, entering our senior year, we were quickly approaching the end of our available party window.

Well, everyone but me was a college senior. I didn’t know what I was. I was really depressed and the bad thoughts were in my head all the time. It seemed everyone around me had a plan, everyone had a girlfriend - or, in Kyle’s case, a fiancé. Everyone seemed excited about their lives after graduation in May.

I wouldn’t be graduating in May. I wasn’t even a senior in credit hours, only in calendar years. I had spent two years at Arizona State University, started on a full ride scholarship, and ended up losing it due to poor grades, which was due to a lot of partying.

Now I had been at the University of Nebraska-Kearney (UNK) for two years, and the partying had continued, but I was really about two years - at least - away from graduating.

In addition to my depression, and I’m sure a contributing factor to it, I had been drinking a lot, a lot more than anyone really realized. There was always a reason to drink with at least one of my roommates or friends. Someone was always getting home from class or getting off or work or getting ready to go out on to the bars or to a party. Two members of the Dome Crew, Kyle and Curt, worked at Bill’s Liquor, the most popular college liquor store in town, so we always had plenty of beer and hard liquor in the house.

Heck, we actually built a bar for our house, and put it right between the living room and the kitchen. It was right outside of my bedroom.

Alcohol was a big part of our lives, and on this Friday night 30 years ago, when I was 21 years old, I was drunk.

The bad voices were getting louder in my head. I was feeling suicidal.

As the night went on, and more and more people showed up to the party, the state I was in became worse. Everyone was having a great time, everyone but me.

I remember going up to a couple of friends, telling them I did not feel good and was really depressed. Their response was ‘aww T-Dog, chill out, we’re having a party. Let’s do shots.”

The shots only added fuel to the misery burning inside of me.

I remember going outside, looking at the stars and crying, thinking the best days of my life were already behind me.

I had been to Australia as an exchange student when I was a Junior in high school, and made some incredible friends that I thought I would never see again. I called that year my Peter Pan year because I felt like I was in Never-Never Land, having the time of my life, and I never wanted to come home to boring Nebraska.

Then I had been to Arizona State University, and lost that opportunity.

Now, I was back in the last place I wanted to be, Kearney, and I hated it. My parents were furious with me. I had no plan. I felt like I was a failure. I was in so much emotional pain and I just wanted it to stop.

I went back inside, and, without saying another word to any of the 100 or so people dancing and drinking and partying in my house, went into my bedroom.

I sat down on my bed, and as I cried, I took a razor blade and began cutting both of my wrists. That is the last thing I remember.

*****

Thank God, Thank God, Thank God I woke up the next morning.

I had cut both of my wrists dozens of times and was covered in blood. But I was alive.

Thank God!

Everyone else in the house was passed out. I guess the party had gone on all night long.

I went to the bathroom and cleaned myself up. I put bandages all over my wrists, and then put on a long-sleeved sweatshirt.

*****

Kyle was the first one to notice I was wearing a sweatshirt when it was 70 degrees outside. He noticed my bandages too, and pulled me aside.

Kyle was and still is to this day a fantastic friend. After telling him what had happened, he took me up to my parents house, and talked to them with me about what I had done. He broke the news to my roommates, my Dome Crew brothers, and they rallied around me.

I began seeing a counselor.

Things began to get better, especially the more I talked about my feelings with my friends, family and the counselor.

Most of all though, I just really wanted to get out of Kearney.

I really wanted to see my friends, the other exchange students I had met in Australia! I wanted to feel alive! I wanted to have an adventure!