Falling to Pieces
No better description for my state.
I never imagined that I'd reach a state where the thought of being unprepared and needing to sit for a test the next day would terrorize me to the point I'd break. I never knew the day could come. I never knew I'd be thinking about a test and sinking into complete terror.
What has the A levels done to me? Nothing good. Please, Please don't come here.
Please.
Maybe I'm weak, mentally- but over a CA? Such a small thing, surely nothing, nothing- but no.
It terrorizes me and I feel my chest tighten and the fear well up and overwhelm me. Anxiety attacks. Is this what they feel like? The brink of going bonkers? Needing to do but not being able to, helplessness, you want to study but it's futile and you can't bring yourself to see another failing grade-
Because it crushes you.
And they come in swarms, here have extra lessons that take time away from nailing your syllabus, here's more work on top of your impossible load, why aren't you studying what's wrong with your content you should be doing better than this consult more, more more-
When, when does it end? Tell me to hold on for another 6 months so I can keep breaking, smashing against the glass destroying everything around me drowning into a sea of despair and for what?
"How much did you get, you know, out of 90 rank points."
I gasp. And I plead and pray for it to end, and suddenly I know why she doesn't want to even register, why she doesn't want to leave the house why she wants to kill herself as I open these hollow spectres for eyes and I see, I see why she sees nothing and welcomes death as a friend so dear- I fear that one day I may join her, and be brave enough to tell myself that tomorrow isn't coming.
The paper is my future. And I hang in the balance of today and tomorrow. Of my now and of my forever. Surely there is more to life than the piece of paper. Surely there's more than this. Surely. I'll keep searching for it. And maybe I'll find it on the road less travelled, yes. But I won't find it here in the barb of my teacher's words and their harsh remarks dusted with thick red ink that mark my failure, once again, at achieving. If these papers are my future, then I have none. Before me is the abyss she is unable to cross. Maybe, if it continues this way, it too will be my abyss. And become the entrance to a destructive Neverland.
Magician, Magician. Save me.
Where have the bright sparks of your intrigue gone?
Why have you abandoned me, Magician, Magician.
I miss your presence.
Magician, Magician, we're falling apart.
Aren't you seeing
The world through my broken frame?
Magician, Magician, maybe one day you'll understand-
I know the feeling of loss.
And that's why, I am selfish.
xx
I never imagined that I'd reach a state where the thought of being unprepared and needing to sit for a test the next day would terrorize me to the point I'd break. I never knew the day could come. I never knew I'd be thinking about a test and sinking into complete terror.
What has the A levels done to me? Nothing good. Please, Please don't come here.
Please.
Maybe I'm weak, mentally- but over a CA? Such a small thing, surely nothing, nothing- but no.
It terrorizes me and I feel my chest tighten and the fear well up and overwhelm me. Anxiety attacks. Is this what they feel like? The brink of going bonkers? Needing to do but not being able to, helplessness, you want to study but it's futile and you can't bring yourself to see another failing grade-
Because it crushes you.
And they come in swarms, here have extra lessons that take time away from nailing your syllabus, here's more work on top of your impossible load, why aren't you studying what's wrong with your content you should be doing better than this consult more, more more-
When, when does it end? Tell me to hold on for another 6 months so I can keep breaking, smashing against the glass destroying everything around me drowning into a sea of despair and for what?
"How much did you get, you know, out of 90 rank points."
I gasp. And I plead and pray for it to end, and suddenly I know why she doesn't want to even register, why she doesn't want to leave the house why she wants to kill herself as I open these hollow spectres for eyes and I see, I see why she sees nothing and welcomes death as a friend so dear- I fear that one day I may join her, and be brave enough to tell myself that tomorrow isn't coming.
The paper is my future. And I hang in the balance of today and tomorrow. Of my now and of my forever. Surely there is more to life than the piece of paper. Surely there's more than this. Surely. I'll keep searching for it. And maybe I'll find it on the road less travelled, yes. But I won't find it here in the barb of my teacher's words and their harsh remarks dusted with thick red ink that mark my failure, once again, at achieving. If these papers are my future, then I have none. Before me is the abyss she is unable to cross. Maybe, if it continues this way, it too will be my abyss. And become the entrance to a destructive Neverland.
Magician, Magician. Save me.
Where have the bright sparks of your intrigue gone?
Why have you abandoned me, Magician, Magician.
I miss your presence.
Magician, Magician, we're falling apart.
Aren't you seeing
The world through my broken frame?
Magician, Magician, maybe one day you'll understand-
I know the feeling of loss.
And that's why, I am selfish.
xx
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