I’m glad I found out early

finally-complete
It’s Thursday. You can probably tell, because I set that as an option.

But who am I kidding? The only dude who sees these is me, so –

But I like talking to myself.

I guess that’s why I keep thinking up this bullshit. I’m sure none of my friends do this. I’m pretty sure that they don’t have these attention-seeking tendencies. I’m the worst off of them.

“I’m glad I found out early.” I’m glad I found out that I suck.

I actually suck. I’m still in highschool, and I suck. I thought it was just going to be the “school status quo,” but it’s a little more nuanced now. It’s no longer a thing to sit by the window and look out the trees. I’m on the basement level, or I’m on the other side of the room. I’m learning, right? I’m trying to figure things out and stuff, yeah?

But there’s prerequisites. Like, you have to know what these things do, conceptually.

I didn’t learn that.

And it’s not their fault.

It’s not you.

It’s me.

Fuck.

I really – you know, I can really start to appreciate things now. I can appreciate how bad I am relative to them. I can see that nobody’s slacking. This is the 4th year, huh?

I’m supposed to be in my 3rd year still. I did a few courses over the summer, and –

I didn’t finish the courses.

I’m full of shit.

I haven’t accomplished anything.

I’m feeling pretty fucking awkward right now.

It’s not like I can’t finish it later, but – you know, I was supposed to actually finish it over the summer, yeah?

It’s just – you know, this would be a lot better if I wasn’t actually on the track to graduating this year.

But I digress. I suck ass in Physics. I suck ass at Math. I’m catching up, though. That was the intention from the start. But it hurts a little more in the moment. Right now, I’m “that guy” who doesn’t seem to quite get anything. The guy that’s setting the bell curve a little lower.

I try to reassure myself. “It’s only the first test.” I wrap these words around me. “Only.” It comforts me. It trivializes things. Makes my heart soar. My chest starts to warm, and I start to doze off into another nap, attempting to drift off into unwaking bliss. I force myself to stare at the ceiling. No falling asleep. I can’t help it. I’m always sleepy at home. I’m not sleeping at the right time.

Seasonal depression disorder? That’s what I found online. I try to fool myself into thinking that this is temporary (it probably actually is; I’m not that pathetic), and that I’ll “snap out of it eventually.”

I change nothing. I continue. I warn myself in my head, and my skull starts to quiver. It hurts a little. Like something’s trying to force itself out. I get a lump in my throat, and the passage of time becomes ever more present to me.

At times like these, it’s hard to believe that I love myself.

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