this will be graded in the next 24 hours, right?

It is 8:27 p.m. on Sunday, March 20th, 2016. I got home an hour and a half ago after being in Seattle, my hometown, since Thursday morning. I’ve hardly slept this weekend. I feel sick. I have to wake up in nine hours.

I got to go away for the weekend. I got to see where my mom went to college. I got to celebrate my grandpa’s 91st birthday. I got to see my cousins, who happen to be three of my favorite humans in the world, who I have missed terribly. It was a break; a fresh exit from the stressful reality that has grown to be my life. Going back to Seattle always calms me down—whether it’s the people I’m with or the sights I see or even just the simplicity in the abundance of trees alongside the road, I always seem to feel at peace when I’m there. The only problem is that when I leave, that peace stays behind.

a picture I took on the way to my cousin's house

Twenty four hours ago, I was asleep, only to wake back up again at 1:36 a.m. when my cousin Madison returned from Tolo (the Pacific Northwest’s version of Sadie Hawkins). Twenty four hours before that, I was watching my cousins’ and I’s favorite movies, and twenty four hours before that I was doing something else and twenty four hours before that I was doing something else. 

Time is moving uncontrollably fast, too fast for me to catch up. Every day drags on endlessly, but looking back, it feels like 2016 hasn’t even started and I’m still stuck in late August of 2015. Ever since the week before school started, everything has been a blur. And if you don’t understand what that means, then let me try to explain it: I feel like I’ve been stuck in time for the past seven months. I can hardly tell the difference between days and I’ve run out of ways to talk to people about it. 

Basically, in the grand scheme of things, I’m trying to say that my entire mental health has gone to hell since school started. This is nothing new, it happens every year. I’m not surprised that it happened again, even though I’m always hopeful otherwise. But I’d like to publicly state that I am not the only student going through this.

Earlier today I felt this feeling—this numb feeling I’ve been describing, where I shut down and lose all sense of feeling—and I desperately asked my best friend what to do about it. She admitted to me that she also felt this feeling, and specifically mentioned that this feeling occurs when at school/dealing with school. Like we’re waiting for something in our lives, but we don’t know what. Like the only way we’re getting through life is by distracting ourselves. And this, by first hand experience, seems like the worst way to go through life, as I’ve mentioned in one of my previous blog posts. 

When it gets to the point where students would rather hibernate from the world than get up and ride the bus one more time you know there’s a flaw in the system. When it gets to the point where students are living in a constant state of depression and anxiety and can’t help but try to hide it from everyone, that is when you know there is a flaw in the system. When it gets to the point where students are expected to get at least eight hours of sleep at night but are kept up cramming in schoolwork to keep up their GPA’s, that is when you know there is a flaw in the system. When it gets to the point that kids are having physical panic attacks worrying about if their 'A' will turn into an 'A-' (I'm not exaggerating, this is fucking reality), that is when you know there is a flaw in our system.

It is now 10:11 p.m.. Twenty four hours ago, I was asleep. Twelve hours from now, I will be in second period. I am exhausted. My head hurts. I should have been asleep two hours ago, not writing this. But hey, at least I turned it in on time, right?