There some times in life when you just want to scream and lose the plot completely, transforming into some psycho freak who wants to destroy things and go completely nuts and get locked away in an asylum forever.
Or maybe that’s just me.
Damn hormones. It seems my teenage angst has reached a whole new degree of intense. I think it’s because we’re weeks away from our final lot of exams, and the pressure is just getting more and more full on that I’m pretty sure soon I’m going to crack.
Like. A. Nut.
Really. So many good positive things are happening right now, but relaxing and just enjoying it all is out of the question. Everything revolves around what needs to be done and how much time there is to do it. There is way too much of the former, and so little of the latter.
And in just a few months, I won’t care anymore! Once i have those results all this time and effort and work is going to have counted for just that. A mark, that may or may not open the doorways I want it to open. If it does, great! If not, then what? Even then, i don’t think i’ll care anymore.
Why stress over something that ultimately means so little?
I just don’t know.
Like all of the students about to sit their HSC exams, everything the past thirteen years have amounted to is being put on the line.
It’s the prospect I think, of all that time and energy, and growth and change, all coming down to a few hours of sitting in a room, hunched over a paper, hoping it’s enough. That’s an astounding concept. It’s like the make or break moment, the moment when what you write on that paper is going to define whether those thirteen years have been a waste or not.
As graduation draws ever closer, I feel myself torn between relief and sentiment. The sentiment is thick with nostalgia about my year group, my friends, the good times, the fun times, the funny memories. Oh I’m going to miss it alright.
Although, then I consider my primary school days. It was a similar thing, the sentiment, the growing up and the changes, but once I was actually out of there and on to the next thing, I realized just how miserable I’d been. Those people I went to primary school with didn’t like me, and on the most part I didn’t like them. I hated primary school. Being a high achiever is one thing, having next to no friends and none that i’ve kept close contact with since then is another. I did well in primary school, but looking back, all I can think was what a pathetic little outcast I was, alienated by my peers and hating myself for it.
So will high school be the same?
Looking back, I remember being bullied in year seven, labeled as a freak in year eight, falling in with the wrong crowd in year nine, being embarrassed by my straight A’s in the school certificate, feeling isolated and going through the most traumatic and confusing event of my life in year eleven, and to sprinkle sugar on top, suffering through a difficult period of extremely low self esteem and borderline depression, which (you can probably tell) hasn’t entirely gone away. I still dislike myself. So really, why am I being so sentimental about leaving high school?
It’s only in year twelve things started to turn around, and even then it hasn’t been great, with the taint of exams hanging overhead. And the cynic in me can’t help but feel that the only reason my peers have started warming up to me is because 1) i got facebook at last, and 2) this is our last year together.
So really, fuck sentiment. High school has been a stressful and ultimately miserable time for me. My happy memories are seriously tainted by the limited number of them, and the objective lens. Hanging out with my friends, fun! We’ve had a good laugh, we’ve had some good times. But beyond the fun, I couldn’t rely on them when things got really bad, and as for the others, I’m a laugh for them. Nothing more.
Overshadowing that, is the low self esteem, the lacking of a boy/girlfriend, all the times i got called nerd, or ugly, or freak, the fights with peers and with teachers, the times I felt like screaming because getting anything less then an ‘A’ made me a disappointment to my teachers, because “you can do better then that”.
High school’s given me an education, not just in academics but in people, and myself. For that, I am grateful. But now, I just want to get the hell out of here and start living my life properly.
Another whining blog post. Surprised? Blame it on the hormones.