I stayed home today instead of going to school, because today was the day of the PSAT. The Destiny Test. The Test that tells you whether you're ready for THE TEST, the SAT, which determines your future Forever by telling you which colleges you can go to. I wasn't willing to pay $11 to take the Test. I had nothing remotely substantial in my afternoon classes, because heaven forbid one class gets ahead of another. And I probably need my meds changed. So my parents agreed to let me take a mental health day.
Mental health days seem like the cardinal sins of public education. If you're not coughing up a lung or have a fever 3 degrees above normal or are puking your guts up or causing other students to miss school, you have to go. Because they just want to help you get a 4.0 grade average and a perfect SAT score so that colleges will be begging you to go.
I don't give a crap about colleges wanting me to go there. Heck, I'm not even sure if college is the right choice for me. I want to be a freelance writer more than anything else, and people say an English degree will help boost your credibility for jobs, but if I know more or less what they're going to teach me anyway, what's the point in coughing up thousands of dollars?
No one understands this. My therapist would say not to worry about it until senior year. My friends have been worrying about it since they were freshman. My counselor worries about my mental state because I would get frequent panic attacks before getting medication, whether I tried to calm myself down or not. And the administration acts like no one has been stressed out for 2 years and that this is a new thing, explaining what we've known since we were middle schoolers, and forcing us into APs and college tests before we're even seniors, until you're up at 3 AM, falling asleep in class, and require medication to calm down enough to function.
So I'm committing the cardinal sin of education, talking to my parents during the free time we're given in class about how I feel to my mom and asking when we can go to the doctor's, instead of working on my homework early like I'm supposed to.
I'm such a crap student for not following the rules they set out for everyone to follow. I know this and accept it, medication working or not. The only difference is my overall mood about the situation. And I feel kinda disphoric about it now, hence my writing.
I don't follow the rules. Thus, I am in the "flunkie" box they set up. I don't like the boxes they design. I never have. Not even when I was in 3rd grade and my teachers were urging my parents to put my in the elementary school magnet program because I was coasting through their classes. Well, tough luck, school. You can't categorize me accurately. Enjoy pulling all your hair out. I'm certainly not going to assist you.
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