7 hours later, and I’m finally posting this.

There’s no doubting how nice it would be to be able to blog about how I’ve gained my Associate’s degree in some major that I’m working on, that I’m still attending college – but currently on summer break – and have already went in and had my schedule organized for autumn. There’s also no doubting that I simply loathe fellow bloggers who do blog about such topics at times, either. A lot of people think that I’m not interested in having these experiences – that I’m not interested in “growing up” as in having a job, attending college – maybe even having a job and attending college – and so on. I’d love to be able to have that. I’d love to be able to handle that. See what I did there? There’s a difference between…

I’d love to be able to have that.

and

I’d love to be able to handle that.

It’s just one word, but those two words mean two completely different things.

Sure, I can have that.

Anyone who puts their mind to it can have that. A lot of people do have that. In middle and high school I always thought I would be one of those people.

I struggle with things I lack much interest in, though. Science is beyond difficult for me, and so is social studies. Some parts of it will lead me to wanting more, but I can’t make my mind grasp around all parts of it, or even the majority. I’ve struggled with this my entire life. I’ve tried tutoring before, and I don’t do well with tutoring. I’ve also tried various labs, home school, summer school (which just ended up being the SAME curriculum as in home school, thus meaning it was pretty darn pointless and time consuming – and it caused a huge commotion).

But can I handle it?

I have this bad habit of taking on more than I can handle. I can’t really help it. It’s very similar to how I keep lifting things (like the sugar at the grocery store the other day, Ruby yesterday, etc.) I know I really shouldn’t, but I do it anyway [because I’m stubborn].

It just always ends in me being so stressed out, and I hatehatehate it.

Anyway…

So I’m guessing it’s just me.

And my biggest fear in all of this has stayed the same:

Maybe I’m just crazy. Maybe I’m just making it all up. But if I was making it all up, it wouldn’t be real. If it’s not real, then it still feels so real. And because of this, maybe I’m having trouble separating what’s real and what’s surreal. Or maybe I really am crazy, and the reason the psychologists postponed my treatment three months ago is because they really didn’t know what was/is wrong with me.

Maybe if Mimi had not have spoke so loudly and said, “She’s suicidal, she needs help!” to said persons1 at said psychologist’s office, then MAYBE I would have been taken seriously throughout the entire thing.

But with that said…

I’m not really feeling this blog entry anymore. I’ll post it, and then I will figure something else out to write. And post. And…yeah.

  1. She thought it would get me more immediate treatment. She was throwing out anything to get me help, which just made it so. much. worse.

Sorry, but comments are closed on this post.