| I think school makes me depressed and stressed. The entire summer I didn't write on this site, and I didn't write in my journal.
Why?
Because I only write when I'm stressed, upset, depressed, angry, etc.
This summer was just about the best summer I've ever had. Probably the best I ever will have. I did some of the craziest stuff I never thought I'd do. And crazy stuff I never thought I would do again. Of course, it was even like the first time, I don't regret it AT ALL. Normal people should feel guilt over this sort of thing. I definately feel like I've lost the guilt complex.
Crazy stuff, isn't it?
The summer was also it parts, it seems. First part, kind of care free, immature (the girly immature, like ponies and Prince Charmings immature), feeling like I didn't have to worry or care, totally disconnected from reality.
Second part, I was in an entirely different hemisphere, and it was a totally different outlook on life. I could see the Southern Cross in the sky every single night, I felt so carefree, so happy with life, so full of promise, so full of insight to the rest of the world. I never wanted to leave. I cried leaving the airport. I didn't even get a sense of closure, it's like part of me is missing. I wasn't able to attend the reunion party. I haven't looked at my pictures since I got them back, I haven't looked at my souvenirs since I've put them in a shoe box that sits in the middle of my room now. It almost feels like it didn't even happen. I know I'll return though, maybe permanently.
Then the third part of summer, back to reality, I felt like I was "clean" somehow, cleansed of all the stress and emotion I had before I came back. I was able to be a normal 17 year old girl. Yea, I turned 17. Felt like I missed it though. No one was able to tell me sincerly. Yea, I was sung to in Australia, but it's one of those things were you only sing because you have to. And then no one cares after that. And I don't even really mind the lack of presents, I'm not materialistic, but I didn't even get calls or cards or anything, not even hugs to say "Happy Birthday!" even if it is belated. Nothing from even my boyfriend at the time! Whatever. Back to this third part and being 17. Well, I really only felt 17 back home, in Illinois. With my friends who are typical 17 year olds too. They have jobs, they have steady boyfriends, they go out every night during the summer, even if they're just hanging out at someone's house, or eating lunch at Taco Bell or Wendy's at ten to twelve because curfew's at midnight. Going to a 16-21 club and having so much fun just dancing, even to songs you hate, not caring, because your best friends are right there with you. Some of the best five days of my life. Of course, I don't come home to that. I don't have that here, but it's getting there now that we've all got cars and friends. Then marching band starts, band camp, all good times. It's a feel-good sport. Except for when I come home all upset because I want to be good, I want to make it to the State Finals, but very few others seem to care. The people who skip, who don't stand at attention, who don't care enough to practice to get it right. But I DO care. And I know there are others who do as well. Very few others. Mostly us upperclassmen, who don't feel we have to do it anymore, it's that we want to do it. That's why I want to cry when I see Phantom Regiment make PERFECT lines, and when they show a close-up of a member, you can just see it in their face, they want, more than anything, to win it. They are so dedicated, motivated purely by just the rush you get from it all. It comes with anything you love doing, not just a sport. They're not even getting paid.
So I arrive at school on Tuesday, feeling excitement and nervousness because it's my senior year, it's my senior year. Of course I'm there early for zero hour, and then it's just bang-bang, lechture after lechture on how this year is going to be in this class. I swear I wanted to just cry when I entered the hallway on my way to band when I could just hear mallets on wood, and I felt like I was finally walking onto stable ground. The rest of the week was a rush, things thrown at me left and right, pressure building and not even a minute to myself to let it all out. Then Thursday night I broke down after my parents were scolding me to get a job while I'm trying to finish my AP Bio homework before 10 so I can get enough sleep because I just got home from band. I just cried. I felt like I'm taking on way too much.
Friday was a mountain as well. I had a lot of fun with my friends just walking around the mall, being girls, trying on the most amazing homecoming dresses that all match. Then seeing a movie, making hand gestures in front of the projector while the theatre is empty, laughing throughtout the film, just being a silly group of friends.
Of course I come home, and the high lifts off. Down the cliff I go. I realize how much I need to do over the weekend, how much stress I have and it's only been the first week of school. That's the biggest issue. Crying over a silly thing like the dress I doubt I'll get, my parent's won't give in this time and I can't pay for it, and even if I got it, it's waste on another date I don't want to go with. I don't even know who I'd want to go with anyways, now that my first (and only) choice is out. Figures he was the only one I ever wanted to go with for the past 3 years. And it's my senior year. It's my senior year.
To top it off, I'm still completely unsure of my future, I have no idea what I want to do after highschool, besides go to college, but even then, where? and for what? I haven't even started my applications.
I am such a mess. And I only was in school for three and a half days. How is the rest of the year going to be? How am I going to deal?
I hope this is not a reflection of the rest of the year.
Hunger hurts, but I want him so bad
Oh it kills, but I know I'm a mess he don't want to clean up
I got to fold, cuz these hands are to shaky to hold
Hunger hurts, but starving works, when it costs too much to love. |
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