I keep telling myself I have time. But really, time is the one thing I do not have. I only just realized a few moments ago that it is already the end of August, meaning in about two months time I will starting my application process for college, meaning in the span of two months I will need to actually settle on a top choice of schools to apply for and have all my deadlines, requirements and teachers questions/ requests cometetd before then.
I don’t think people understand that when I ask them if they are ok, that I really want them to ask it back just so they compare their weak stress to my truly chaotic stress.
And I do not do well with stress.
I guess in many ways it’s my fault for causing myself this much stress. I push back my assignments when I look at the amount I have accomplished. At this point it’s all about who can get the most done in the least amount of time, at least with my character perspective… and everyone else’s perspective of me. I wish I didn’t have to care so much, but I do, and it gets me going sometimes.
But it’s also a question of knowing when to cut the relaxation and celebration and get to work.
When people other then me stress about not getting their IB dimplama, that’s when I freak out and have a slight heart attack.
These people are S M A R T! And I am hardly average. I do not like putting myself down so publically because my persona is completely different then that to what my grades show. But when these people, them who don’t need to work hard and get good grades, them who basically can get away with anything just with their general knowledge, them with their interest and quick understanding… when they worry, I die a little.
I am scared, that’s a fact, but I’m scared for myself and how I am going to react. I’m scared of being turned down and of turning away. I’m scared of not knowing enough.
I know I have to take one day as it comes but my entire environment is molded around the idea of success: well what happens when I don’t succeed? It does not care for failures and different learnings. It’s a direct cosmopolitan system that you have no choice but to oblige to.
Maybe I am dyslexic.
Coming up, SAT anxiety attacks and the secret behind smiles… stay tuned.