Cabin

Camp. I loved camp. Sleep away camp anyway. - Which is the one that had cabins! (I did not like day camp!) I was so happy to be away from home. Away from family, from the same ole grown ups. Away from teachers and the kids I knew. I thrived at camp. It was a dream come true for me in many ways. Dreams I didn't really know existed. After my first summer, I wanted to go to camp all year round, so I asked my parents to send me to boarding school. They said no.

Coming home from camp was always awful. Really really awful. Most people are sad to leave friends, of course, but it was deeper than that for me. I fell into massive depressions that lasted all through the winter and never let up. "Time" never healed anything for me. By spring, I'd start to get hopeful about returning to camp. Then I'd have another great summer, in yet another cabin full of kids, and when it was time to go home I went through the same thing all over again. It never got easier.

- I'm going to stop here because, even now, in thinking about it, I could still get *that* upset all over again. Like I said, it never got easier. The feelings never went away.