So I’m back from my summer registration for college–how was it? OVERWHELMING. Sure, I went with my boyfriend instead of my parents, so I didn’t have to hear, “Where are you at? What do you think? Remember this! Oh, you don’t want that… Why don’t you want this? [insert more annoying crap here]”, but even so it was stressful. Suddenly I was sucked into a world where if I didn’t manage my time, I would be forever doomed. Lecture after lecture talked about Professor’s expectations, not getting fat and eating right so you don’t become depressed, roommate horror stories, getting involved in a thousand clubs, studying for three or five hours each night, finding a part-time job that will work with your class schedule, and how to report if you see someone about to get date-raped or whatever. As if I already don’t have to struggle not to worry so much.
It just hit me…this will be my home. These buildings, this road… And at the end of each day, it’s not like high school where I get to see my parents and my dogs and the same rooms in the same house I’ve lived in for the past 18 years…I’ll still be in this new place, out of my element. And holy crap, I don’t know anyone—ANYONE. I’ll be here, and everyone else in my life will be back home. For the first time, I was scared to go to college.
It also didn’t help that on the way back home yesterday my boyfriend and I parted on an uncertain note. The whole trip we had fun with each other like always, and then I asked about how it would be when I left for school (something we’ve discussed numerous times) and BAM! suddenly we both had no idea how much longer there would be an “us”. All because of the distance. Those stupid miles, I hate every one of them because they are the only reason my boyfriend and I would separate. We still laugh all the time, we still hang out all the time, we still love each other; we’re happy. If it wasn’t for the two and a half hour drive the thought of breaking up would be ludicrous.
So I was relieved that I had group therapy that night to go to. A couple of my friends in there gave me a bit of advice that was reassuring, and even though I’ll be leaving them too, which will be really really sad, we’ve exchanged phone numbers and promised to call and stay in touch. So those first few weeks of school I know I can go to them if I’m in a tight spot. My college also offers counseling services, so that might be useful, too.
I just feel sort of numb and anxious at the same time about it all. My world is slowly slipping away from me, and while it might be waiting for me when I come back on breaks or next summer, it feels scary not to know what will take its place.
I graduate high school tomorrow. Time to get sentimental, right?
Nah. It’s just another ceremony to sit through, really. What I’m super pumped about is to stop caring about that place I went to nearly every day for four years. To stop caring completely. Once and for all. No. Caring. Whatsoever. FUCK YES!!
See, there’s a lot of stupid stuff that goes along with graduating high school, nowadays. There’s a bunch of mandatory practices, BBQs, breakfasts, photos, awards ceremonies/senior send-offs, etc. Then you graduate, and if you haven’t already, have some sort of family shin-dig to attend so relatives can give you money and advice (that part is actually not too bad). After graduation, life is a list of parties to attend, Thank-You notes to write, certificates to put in a box somewhere. You have to make your hair look nice for far too many occasions than what poofy, large hair can handle.
In the scheme of things, I suppose none of that matters much either (except the money…unfortunately, money means the world in these future-decisions). There’s still a whole summer to see friends, and prepare for college. What I’m a little hung up on is the possibility of my boyfriend not being able to make my graduation.
I know. The guy wasn’t the one who did it by my side, or raised me to do it, or was even in my life for three years of high school…so why is it so important that he be there? Well, besides my parents who will be there no matter what, and my friends who will be in their caps and gowns a few feet away, most everyone I see every day or so will already be there. And I don’t know…ever since this guy and I started out I’ve pictured it this way. Going to prom, check. Seeing my play, check. Planning out a fantastic summer, check. So naturally, I could already see him standing at my side after the whole charade was over, to let me hug him and be happy, and for him to be happy with me.
It’s his stupid work’s fault. He manages a certain, unnamed fast food restaurant, that just happens to have a big sale thing tomorrow. And they are trying to make him work, even though he has asked off. It makes me nervous, and inclined to burn the whole place down.
I guess I just want him in this memory a lot. Even if we don’t end up in some nursing home together some day, he’s a very big part of my life right now, and I want to remember that.
Alas, though, this graduation will go on no matter what. And if my first act as a graduate is to drive a few towns over to a place that smells like salt and grease, then damn, I will do it! The older I get, the more I understand how you end up doing strange things to be with people you love.
(Oh, and I’m proud of myself…I forgot to mention that bullshit.)
Why the fuck am I doing this, again?
The eternal question springs again.
But seriously, I’ve just finished two pointless essays, and am about to finish one pointless screenplay. What the fuck am I doing this for? Oh right….diploma.
But why am I doing THIS, this blog thing? Sometimes it feels like I’m just talking to a screen. And sometimes is a lot of the time.
I mean, after all, who cares? In the scheme of things, I have a limited amount of people who care about all this bullshit I write about. And it’s not that having thousands of people read what I write would make what I say more significant or important, it’s just that… I want to know someone else feels this way too, you know? I want to know that somewhere out in this fucked up beautiful mess of a world someone can point to what I’ve written and say, “I’m with her.”
Let’s face it. In the world we live in, it is easy to feel like no one is on your side. And the you’re just standing there by yourself with your opinion, feeling like a jackass.
Lately I’m tired of everything at school. And by everything I mean everything. I’m tired of seeing the same faces, hearing the voices of my teachers, having to get up out of bed and dress to impress my peers…what bullshit. I don’t care about any of my classes anymore, with the exception of creative writing and pottery, where they let me do what I want for a change. In all my other classes, I have to sit there and pretend. I’m so tired of pretending….things I used to work my ass off for, like National Honor Society, don’t mean anything.
I had a thought this morning. In August, I will not have my parents anymore. I won’t have my friends, I won’t have my boyfriend. I’m going to a new city, a whole new place, alone. No one will be there to help me but me. I knew this before, but I brimmed with confidence and pride at the thought of being in full control. Now the fear of the whole situation is kicking in. I’ll be fine, but I won’t. Not at first.
And then I remembered that I had to go to school in the next thirty minutes or I’d be late. And I sat there, tempted to laugh with bitterness at the whole idea. High school? What a joke. Every day holds me back from knowing what that separation will be like in August. Every monotonous second drains me.
Meanwhile, I’m not taking medicine. I have an appointment with my psychiatrist soon, but as of now I am still teetering on the edge of CRAZY. Being in school doesn’t help this. I feel like a ticking time bomb. Being with my friends, writing, and being with my boyfriend makes the instability go away.
I have group tonight, though, so maybe I’ll get some perspective there. Hopefully.
The quest to survive the hell-hole we call high school continues. Slowly.
So here’s what my day is composed of….I’m sure that you all are interested what this next generation is learning to prepare them for being in charge of the state of this country when you all are supposed to be enjoying retirement…. 1. I have pottery class, where I carve into clay for 45 minutes 2. I go to psychology, and we talk about all the scary mental illness and drugs we hope we never have to deal with 3. I go to Journalism, which means I waste time online 4. Astronomy, which usually means I sit and write what is on the board and sometimes sleep 5. Study Hall/ Nap Time 6. English Composition & Literature, time to sit and wish I was somewhere, almost anywhere else, and also think about what a failure I am 7. My Independent Study, where I read about the Crusades in between drifting off into la-la land 8. Creative Writing, I either write or wait for the final bell to ring
Does any of this seems productive to you?! Okay, so I know I could care about things more…or at least sleep less…but there is something to consider about these classes. After all, my body is simply reacting to my boredom. I want to graduate. I want to get my finals over with and done. I don’t want to be wasting my time day after day, waiting to get started on my future.
The stagnant pace of my life is catching up with me. Last night I was with my boyfriend, just playing around on the computer, and suddenly my thoughts started catching up with me. Sitting there watching him complete a level of this brand new game he downloaded was the most interesting part of my day. And I felt so disgusted with what I was doing with my life.
Not that watching him play computer games was at all bad, it just made me realize how spending time with him is the air I breathe to keep me going with everything I’m doing now. And I just feel like I should be more passionate about my life, EVERYTHING in my life. I want to be excited when I wake up in the morning! I want to be excited about everything I’m doing, not just about being with him (even though that is pretty exciting :)).
Summer will be here soon, I know, but soon isn’t soon enough… It’s time I start falling in love with life again, instead of waiting for it to fall in love with me. (I mean, think about it, people don’t fall in love with you if all you do is sit in your room, how could anything else? ….Damn you laziness, and your tempting ways!)
In the world of craziness, here is your Weekend Update:
So my whole plan to become less stressed and more happy has been topsy-turvy. I had a giant test requiring me to know over 300 Greek and Latin root words for English on Thursday, and the whole past week I had been freaking out because I hadn’t exactly studied until Monday. However, the test came and went, and I think I did really well! On the downside, last Saturday when I was at work I became majorly stressed. So stressed that I cut myself. It was a dumb way to relieve tension, but unfortunately it works. So since then I’ve been trying to find different outlets for my stress, and preventing stress altogether. Another test of my happiness plan was when my ex suddenly made a move on me Sunday night. Um, whoa whoa whoa! Turns out he still loves me and wants to be with me. I had to remind him that I am still wonderfully wonderfully happy with my existing boyfriend. All of that gave me greater appreciation for him (my boyfriend), and so I’ve spent the last couple of nights with him, which were wonderfully wonderful as well. I even accomplished a few things off my bucket list in the process! Friday was just an amazing day… So as for now, I am determined to keep on top of my school work, keep applying for a new job, selling my car (which is both sad and happy), and remember that it is MARCH and fourth quarter of my senior year has officially arrived!! My whole life is about to turn upside down, with all the preparation for leaving high school and starting college, but I’ve never been so excited… I have the school play, prom, graduation and graduation parties, and the whole summer to look forward to!
Knowing that, I’m keeping all my craziness (and happiness!) in perspective.
If I could be a day, I think I’d be Thursday. Why? Thursday is the day you spend thinking, “At least tomorrow is Friday” and begin to lose the bags under your eyes. You’re getting used to the blunders that school puts in front of every step, and clinging to that hope that something better is around the corner. People begin to make weekend plans. People bond over their mutual longing for the weekend. If you look past its crushing reality, Thursdays can be bearable, if not sometimes enjoyable.
Mondays suck. Tuesdays are blah. Wednesdays you’re stuck in the middle of your week. Fridays are either full of hope and laughter or crankiness and drained faces.
And then there’s the weekend. Ah, two whole days of no tests, notes, uncomfortable desks or stress over assignments you couldn’t care less about. Two days of freedom to be whomever, wherever, whenever. And then your freedom gets sucked into the vortex of doom, a.k.a. Monday.
Today’s a Monday. And as I see it, your Mondays can either go three ways:
2.) This sucks
3.) THIS FUCKING SUCKS!!!
Maybe three times a school year I will experience a happy Monday, but that is nothing to expect on a regular basis.
I especially hate it when your Monday is going pretty good, and you start to think, “Hey, today just might be a good day” and then one of your friends comes up to you, with just “Shoot me.”
Everyone hates school. Even those people who love it. Make ‘em choose between a vacation in the Bahamas and school and what do you think they’ll pick? Chapter eleven vocab, all sixty-six words, or a cozy, warm breeze on the softest sand they’ve ever felt?
You feel bad, worried about your friend. You feel worse for not being able to say anything to make them happier. And slowly you feel your good mood slip towards “get me outta here”.
What’s worse than being locked in the ridiculous guilt of not having the magic words to make someone’s life better is the resentment that builds up behind your care. If they hadn’t said that to you, if they had been having a good day, nothing would have changed and you could keep believing that Mondays like this one could be (gasp!) good.
But we all know the truth: friends are the ones that bring you up, keep you sane when the world is full of bullshit, so you’d do anything to make them feel better when they’re down.
That’s just another reason to feel bad though—they raise you up, (cheesy wording, I know) so why can’t you do the same?
In these moments, it’s time to remember all the times you looked at your friend and thought, “I wouldn’t mind kicking you in the pants right now”. All the times you were in a funky mood and they were riding the flipping reading rainbow. There are no perfect words. There are only two choices:
- Talking about it (whatever’s wrong)
- Forgetting about it and distracting them (maybe a kick in the pants wouldn’t be so bad after all…)
It’s hard to be a dumb, stupid teenager when you’re trying to help a dumb, stupid teenager. It’s even harder when you’re an ignorant, clueless adult. But no one minds that one because teenagers don’t want their parents’ help and parents don’t know how to give it.
What is so wrong about school is that it ISN’T just about education. People make home-schooled-kids jokes for a reason: when you go to school, you meet people. Interact with a large number of peers, even if you’re the Unabomber in the corner. You get to understand what other people are like, and why what they’re like makes them annoying.
Schools do an awfully hard job of trying to get us to focus on the non-fact that it’s all about cultivating our minds. WRONG! If you were to climb in the brains of everyone in my first hour, you’d know that a good half of them would rather be asleep, at least two are mocking the teacher, four are thinking about how they couldn’t care less about what we’re being taught, one is thinking about sex, three are wrapped up in their lives, and there are maybe five of all of those people using a fourth of their brain power to actually take the notes. No one is captivated. Inspired. Interested.
Isn’t that what knowledge is supposed to be all about? Isn’t that why during the Renaissance people started thinking education was something worth learning about? That all those crazy, educated people who actually bathed talked about stuff that sounded kind of cool?
If schools want our attention, they need to start to think about the people they’re trying to educate. We don’t want to know from textbooks, we want to know from experience. Teach us something we will use that day. Teach us how to watch movies like we read books-picking out character motives and plots in the first ten minutes. Teach us how to calculate how long it will take us to use up our gas tank in a month if we actually drive the speed limit. Teach us how much our dogs understand us when we talk to them like a shrink, and why they find it necessary to bark they’re heads off every time a squirrel scrambles up a tree. Teach us why our grandparents talk about the days before AC with stars in their eyes and why our parents found it necessary to grow out their armpit hair and write “Make Love, Not War” on posters. Teach us how to understand why we care so much about the things we do, why our brains are considered so screwy to adults.
Why we spend our days worrying about our friends instead of the math test tomorrow.
I’m not saying school is useless. It’s great, gives us knowledge (even if the boring kind), a place to make and keep friends, eight hours away from our parents.
On Mondays, though, when you’re on the brink of snoring in first hour and having an anxiety attack in seventh, school just seems to take on a whole other meaning.
(THIS FUCKING SUCKS!!!)
Originally written: 2/6/12