It’s the end of the semester, and I am scared as shit. I haven’t been doing spectacularly in all of my classes. So now I’m scared I don’t know enough.
It’s so bad I often feel nauseous, and this fear makes me not want to face my problems. It’s a vicious cycle.
I’m shaking right now thinking about it. And I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know how to fix the problems I created.
This is really terrible, but sometimes I just wish a car would hit me while I cross the street. Then I wouldn’t have to face everything. Of course I don’t actually want this. But being in the hospital would make my life so much easier. Is it terrible that I’d choose severe pain and months, possibly years, of physical therapy, risk permanently damaging my body, so I wouldn’t have to deal with classes?
But that’s not going to happen, thank goodness. I’m going to lock myself inside the library for the next few weeks and hope for the best. And if my grades aren’t spectacular, it’s not the end of the world. It’s just the rest of my life. Graduation? Psshhh.
Sometimes I don’t think I’m actually cut out for school, even though I was raised to be academic.