I'm angry, depressed, asleep half the time, horny, anxious and afraid. I have a week left. A week left and I'm failing three of my classes that I need to graduate. My therapist and my mom both doubt I'll be able to do it. I doubt I can do it. I feel fucking pathetic. We went in a few weeks ago to try and get some help. All I got was my mom swooning over how "helpful" the administrators were and a huge blow to the tiny amount of confidence I have in math when I overheard my teacher and another talking about students trying to cheat their way out of work, and that if they just came in they'd be able to pass. I was there trying to test out of some math so that I could not have so much to try to do. He gave me last year's final. The final I'd already failed once. I failed it again. I left the room hating myself, almost in tears.
In English a few days ago I couldn't handle the fact that she was piling on even more work. So much fucking work. Right at the end. I was struggling trying to finish the makeup work I have. So instead of using the time in class we had to work on things I just laid my head down on my desk and cried as quietly as I could. I dug my thumbnail into my wrist as hard as I could. I don't know why, really. Simple imitation I guess. I wanted that supposed release pain brings. I guess I'm not capable of doing enough damage for that. I didn't break skin, the marks stayed for a few days. I left the class on the verge of joyous weeping, because I could leave. I could finally go. But I've not really left. I still have the same pile of work that I've always had. And I can't work as fast as I need to be working. I can't do it. I need to believe that I can but that's just so hard for me. I don't think I have anything left.
My therapist says that my depression has gotten a lot worse, despite doubling my medication. I don't like the woman who prescribes my medication. It's like she doesn't even hear me. Or like nothing I say is relevant. Can all this stress and work and expectations and failure just stop? Can't I just be left alone to waste away in a hole somewhere? Live out my life out in seclusion and happiness. Just someplace where I don't have to do all this shit? Where I don't have to jump through hoops. I'm not suicidal. But I'm afraid of myself none the less. I'm gonna go for a walk. Or maybe hurl some rocks. Rip up more of that fucking mint.
In English a few days ago I couldn't handle the fact that she was piling on even more work. So much fucking work. Right at the end. I was struggling trying to finish the makeup work I have. So instead of using the time in class we had to work on things I just laid my head down on my desk and cried as quietly as I could. I dug my thumbnail into my wrist as hard as I could. I don't know why, really. Simple imitation I guess. I wanted that supposed release pain brings. I guess I'm not capable of doing enough damage for that. I didn't break skin, the marks stayed for a few days. I left the class on the verge of joyous weeping, because I could leave. I could finally go. But I've not really left. I still have the same pile of work that I've always had. And I can't work as fast as I need to be working. I can't do it. I need to believe that I can but that's just so hard for me. I don't think I have anything left.
My therapist says that my depression has gotten a lot worse, despite doubling my medication. I don't like the woman who prescribes my medication. It's like she doesn't even hear me. Or like nothing I say is relevant. Can all this stress and work and expectations and failure just stop? Can't I just be left alone to waste away in a hole somewhere? Live out my life out in seclusion and happiness. Just someplace where I don't have to do all this shit? Where I don't have to jump through hoops. I'm not suicidal. But I'm afraid of myself none the less. I'm gonna go for a walk. Or maybe hurl some rocks. Rip up more of that fucking mint.
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