February 5, 2003
I Hate You, You Miserable Cycle

I'm wasting away. School is killing me with its unexceptional teachers, its sixth grade curriculum, and its shallow population. It has to be a joke.

My frustration with the people I'm surrounded by hasn't just made me irritable. It's given me a lack of motivation. It's gotten to the point where I'm just not going to my classes. And if I do, I'm sleeping through them. I know people do this anyway, but I've never been one to skip a class. And yet today, walking to second period English, I realized how much I hated that class. So I took a different turn and hid in the school psychologist's office for an hour. He asked me a few times if I thought I should go to class, but I said I couldn't bear to sit there and have my intelligence insulted by what we're 'learning.'

The only classes that challenge me are science and math. I love those classes. Once I understand a concept, it's the greatest feeling in the world. Once I understand a concept in English -- wait. I've understood English since 5th grade. No matter what the others say, Mrs. Levine and Mr. Corvini are great teachers. Because they actually teach. And they will tell you, "If you don't get this, don't take this class." From the 30 people in my class in September, we are down to maybe 18 now. It's fantastic. I start my day and end my day on good notes, fortunately, because of those classes. The hours between are blurs of terrible lessons and peers.

Though once I leave the school, it doesn't change. The doctors are saying that I sleep too much. When I tell them that I go to bed at 9:30 and wake at 6, they say that's normal. When I add that I take a nap from 2:30 to 6:30, then their heads kind of snap back and they say, "Well that's a bit much." But why should I stay awake? What's the point? My dreams about Tom and flying bunnies is so much more eventful than... this. This sitting at the computer, holding unnecessary conversations, wandering around the house, and having binging episodes, where everything in the cabinet must be consumed as soon as possible. And then I cry because look at me! It's disgusting! And I don't want to be aware of myself in this state so I go to sleep.

But then I wake up again, and it repeats. Miserable cycle. I hate you.

- Molly{5:33 pm}

back home