Unearthing My Buried Troubles

I have never spoken of my boarding school experience. Never. Not once here.  It has always been something that I hold dear and I fear that I hold a small but condensed portion of my past too dearly and closely. I feel I need to loosen my ironclad grip and not isolate them as my sole happy memory. Now, it is all I think about, and I have now been gone for a year. It is slightly dangerous that I think of the past so much, weaving dead dreams and lost hopes into it that it turns into a fully imagined and fantasised memory. I want to be able to create new memories worthy of my looking back on them but I am rather unhappy in my current school; for many valid reasons. I seem to put certain memories and people on pedestals and I wish to do that no more. It is detrimental to my own happiness putting it in something that no longer exists. I've watched enough movies and read enough books to know that what I am going to do is difficult but it is the right thing. 

Sorry to sound like such a complete emotional wreck but honestly no one has the time to listen or they have better things to do like fluff pillows and re-fold towels. Or grating their forehead. Oookay. Bye...