See Marika. See Marika complain.
And the really silly thing is that it's not that bad. I'm just emotionally volatile at the moment.
It doesn’t come as much of a surprise to a lot of you that I’m not doing wonderfully in school at the moment. Except in one class, in which I am failing but can easily make the grade up, I’m actually doing serviceably well-while not up to my usual GPA, are acceptable. I have work to do. I’ve been letting things slide. I haven’t gotten to bed before 1:30 any night this week. I’ve actually been holding up rather well on the health and sleep front, but it’s not ideal.
On top of that, my parents are being so hypercritical-or at least it feels like they are. Every time I take half an hour or an hour (or, I admit it, twelve hours) off from doing homework, they’re on my back. Just as soon as I begin to slip away from the stress of the school day and into the sanctuary of my own thoughts for a bit of pointless daydreaming on the way home from school, it’s “So have you finished your application for Central yet?” or “This weekend I want you to clean Siegfried’s cage and clean your room.”
It’s not only that, either. People come in just as I’ve been getting into the groove of writing my term paper and say, “What do you think-should we go see Native Son or Man and Superman next season at the Rep?” It’s really incredible how parents have that talent for, to copy Philip Pullman’s words, changing the course of the entire river by moving a pebble at the fount. And then they guilt you when you ask them to leave you alone for awhile.
It’s not just my parents, either. I’ve been really susceptible to everything people have been saying to me lately. I am not usually a people person (I am, in fact, a me! person), but I feel as if lately everyone’s been upset and I’m at the brunt of it: not that anyone’s necessarily very upset with me, but that they’re all upset at things around me. Things I can’t do anything to fix. This is almost worse than them being upset at me. It’s melancholia hanging like stale air freshener in the room. (That was almost poetic.)
The only thing I can do about this, moreover, is to wait things out. This is melancholy but melancholy goes away on its own-- I can't do anything about it, you see. It’s more or less free-floating anxiety, and while I can talk about how I hate it, I don’t think there are any underlying issues that I can talk about and get it cleared up with. I won't complain about how I can't make it go away-- given enough TLC directed at myself it might, but that's illogical at the moment, even if it would be wonderful, and I understand that and I am not going to be disappointed by it. Even if it does take nine more months, as I expect it will, my parents will stop coming into my room at all hours of the day and night, taking away my snacks, and staring at what I’m doing when I’m writing. I will stop being a disappointment to my parents and feeling as if I haven’t met even their basic expectations. I will stop feeling, in short, like a goop and back to my old self. Things will get better. No idea when, but they will. At the moment I’m just trying to live until February 1st.
In the meantime, I will do what I can to help you if you want my help. I want to do something positive-maybe that’ll make things better all around.
It doesn’t come as much of a surprise to a lot of you that I’m not doing wonderfully in school at the moment. Except in one class, in which I am failing but can easily make the grade up, I’m actually doing serviceably well-while not up to my usual GPA, are acceptable. I have work to do. I’ve been letting things slide. I haven’t gotten to bed before 1:30 any night this week. I’ve actually been holding up rather well on the health and sleep front, but it’s not ideal.
On top of that, my parents are being so hypercritical-or at least it feels like they are. Every time I take half an hour or an hour (or, I admit it, twelve hours) off from doing homework, they’re on my back. Just as soon as I begin to slip away from the stress of the school day and into the sanctuary of my own thoughts for a bit of pointless daydreaming on the way home from school, it’s “So have you finished your application for Central yet?” or “This weekend I want you to clean Siegfried’s cage and clean your room.”
It’s not only that, either. People come in just as I’ve been getting into the groove of writing my term paper and say, “What do you think-should we go see Native Son or Man and Superman next season at the Rep?” It’s really incredible how parents have that talent for, to copy Philip Pullman’s words, changing the course of the entire river by moving a pebble at the fount. And then they guilt you when you ask them to leave you alone for awhile.
It’s not just my parents, either. I’ve been really susceptible to everything people have been saying to me lately. I am not usually a people person (I am, in fact, a me! person), but I feel as if lately everyone’s been upset and I’m at the brunt of it: not that anyone’s necessarily very upset with me, but that they’re all upset at things around me. Things I can’t do anything to fix. This is almost worse than them being upset at me. It’s melancholia hanging like stale air freshener in the room. (That was almost poetic.)
The only thing I can do about this, moreover, is to wait things out. This is melancholy but melancholy goes away on its own-- I can't do anything about it, you see. It’s more or less free-floating anxiety, and while I can talk about how I hate it, I don’t think there are any underlying issues that I can talk about and get it cleared up with. I won't complain about how I can't make it go away-- given enough TLC directed at myself it might, but that's illogical at the moment, even if it would be wonderful, and I understand that and I am not going to be disappointed by it. Even if it does take nine more months, as I expect it will, my parents will stop coming into my room at all hours of the day and night, taking away my snacks, and staring at what I’m doing when I’m writing. I will stop being a disappointment to my parents and feeling as if I haven’t met even their basic expectations. I will stop feeling, in short, like a goop and back to my old self. Things will get better. No idea when, but they will. At the moment I’m just trying to live until February 1st.
In the meantime, I will do what I can to help you if you want my help. I want to do something positive-maybe that’ll make things better all around.