Episode #35 (cubed) : 03.25.03 @ 10:10 pm

I had a "breakdown" yesterday, only nobody knew that I was having one because nobody knows me well enough down here.

Breakdown is such a funny word for what happened. It makes it sound random and out of the blue. But its not. It's this gradual incline, like I'm hiking up this really steep hill and I know the peak is at the top and I know there's a cliff at the top, there's just the matter of when I get to that cliff and when the ground crumbles beneath me.

This so called episode gave birth in Algebra class, where I promptly failed a quiz that I had actually studied for. I was so angry with myself because I had studied, I have been trying to get a C this quarter, and here's yet another big fat F. I just don't get it. To use a computer analogy...
Everything goes in a folder. The folder labeled "Math" is one of those pesky folders that disappears and reappears in random places. When I try to open it, my computer freezes or I get The Blue Screen of Death. It's like... a program that my computer just doesn't recognize (like trying to play a Quicktime video on Windows Media Player).

I'm not exaggerating either. It's not just that I'm bad in Math... If there's a Math Dyslexia or something, there's a chance I probably have it. I get numbers all mixed up in my head and I'm noticing it more since I've been on the register at work.
I say numbers backwards, I see them backwards or mixed up sometimes. Sometimes, the simplest math problems (prime numbers, factoring, division without a calculator, anything beyond basic multiplication) will take me minutes to sort out in my head. The teacher will ask me what eighteen divided by six is and there will be a good minute or two pause before I realize that yes, eighteen divided by six is three (I think?).

With money, I can stare at a dime and four pennies for longer then I should and it still won't register that yes, that is a dime and four pennies.
I can not list any prime numbers, I'm not even sure what prime numbers are and I'm in Algebra 2.
Can you see how Algebra and Chemistry can be problem subjects for me? No matter how hard I try, no matter how hard I study, I just don't get it. That last Chemistry test? Studied for three hours (the night before. The days before this I studied for an hour) and I got a fucking forty-eight on it.

Anyway. Back to that stupid episode that for some reason I feel the need to tell you, who probably don't care, about.

I actually started to cry after I ran out of time and had to hand the quiz in. No one saw it of course, you become very good at hiding things like that, especially if its just your eyes stinging and blurring your vision.
I was just so angry, at myself, at school, at life... and all the stress that had been building up all year.

In Psych class, I wanted nothing more then to go into the girl's bathroom and see how much blood I could rid myself of before I passed out. Slice two gaping holes into the under belly of my arms, where my elbow joint is. I wondered vaguely if it was possible to cut deep enough to see bone.
I wondered what color my tendons were. Or if you could even see them through blood.

There's something wrong when grades can effect a person like this. I should probably go back to seeing a psych, but I just don't have time. It'd involve giving up my job - which is actually one of the few stable things in my life - and my little free time.

All right. So it wasn't just grades. It was everything else and then grades just pushed me over. I don't fucking care anymore. If I know that I wouldn't hate myself more for doing so, I'd drop out of high school, drop out of existence, drop all of those silly, unrealistic dreams about helping people in some way... Human Rights Lawyer my ass. It would never happen. I'll never succeed at law school. Hell. I won't succeed at college, why fucking bother.

By the way.
I'm failing Chemistry.

What a surprise there.
The thing that irritates me most about this is that this class down here is at an easier level then the one up in Maine, but the two teaching styles are radically different. In Maine, it was very hands on, practically all we did was experiments and easy to understand worksheets, very active. Here, she puts notes on the board. We copy them down and do worksheets from those notes.
I had an 82 in Chemistry in Maine.
I have a 58 here.

What does my transcript say for science?
Freshman year, Bio: A
Sophomore year, Physics: B
Junior year, Chemistry: D/F

Yea, that's me. Well known for my consistancy.

Woo. Summer school. What joy. Exactly how I want to spend a month out of my life.

I'm sure all of this matters so much to you. Hell. It probably didn't even make any sense at all.

To sum it up: I feel like shit. I want nothing more then to take one of the razors that are conveniently left about for one reason for another and just spend a few hours carving out this anger, this frustration, this fucking loneliness.

I don't want to go to school.
Ever again.

You think that if I didn't go to school tomorrow, someone besides the computer that takes attendance would notice?

/A

<< // >>

index | older | diaryland