Since first school, I have always been very academically driven. Even throughout middle school when I was arguably with the wrong crowd, I always made sure my school work was 100% perfect, and if it wasnt or I got a poor mark on a piece of homework I’d redo it off my own back and send it in to be remarked. I guess I’ve always just been an over achiever, never really understood when people have felt the need to act stupid or dim for attention, and just found it necessary to work my ass of in school without being driven by teachers or my parents. To some extent it’s probably my moms fault I am this way, having grown up hearing her complain about doing work she hates to do because she pissed around in school so much, but either way it’s just a trait I’ve gained that will probably benefit me the most in life.
This trait helped me out hugely in my GCSES’ getting me better than expected results, but recently I feel like my ability and motivation for my A levels is flagging dramatically and I know exactly who to blame. Since we returned to Sixth form in September, its been non stop pressure and being constantly reminded that we only have 6 months of learning left before we open to enveloped to find out “fait”… have we been accepted into university. I personally don’t work well under pressure of any sort. During my GCSE’s there was so much crap going on in my life. I was battling anorexia, bulimia, and more significantly my family and I were homeless and living in a cramped house with my interfering grandmother. I had got it into my head that I was absolutely going to fail- but I revised my ass off anyway to distract myself from the war in my head. Everyone around me who cared for me and understood my situation kept telling me, “No matter how you do, you will still be successful and loved”, because they knew I was going to fail too. There was no pressure on me, only the pressure I put on myself to prove everyone wrong. Hence my delight when I opened that envelope, to see I was one of the top 15 in the school.
But this year its different, like the sudden reality of the stresses of adulthood have caught up with me. If it’s not teachers going on at me for ridiculous amounts of homework, essays, presentations and mock exams already, its pressure from work and earning enough money to run my car, pay my insurance, sort out my university applications, self teach most of my subjects due to shit teaching this year, consider the terrible thought of resits, continue to battle the bitch in my head that says I’m fat and ugly, whilst trying to find time for myself and my boyfriend. Its hard, and incredibly stressful and I’m not going to lie- caused a mini breakdown this weekend. It got too much, I had 4 exams to revise for, 3 essays to do and I only have less than a year to spend with my boyfriend before we have to go separate ways for uni. I spent three days in my room, panicking about my future and frantically applying for full time jobs in Aldi and Llyods banks because I was sure that I was going to drop out of sixth form on Tuesday. It was slightly scary how ready I was to waste the past 14 years of education, on a couple of bad days.
After a decent 5 hour business revision session I’ve got myself back into a healthier and more motivated state of mind, by telling myself to ignore the outside pressure of teachers, money and worries that might happen in the future, because the fear of things happening shouldn’t affect how I live now. Unfortunately, I wasn’t the only one worrying. Me and my boyfriend have been having a bit of trouble recently. For a couple who never argue to be constantly niggling away at each other, picking fights and not making time, to say its been hard is an understatement. He’s told me that he is trying to get used to not being with me because this time next year we probably wont be together. I don’t even know what to think, because for me the thought of not being with him is enough to make me not want to go to university, an I’d rather not think about it at all and enjoy what time we do have instead of spending It upset about the future. I never knew this would happen, when I told him I liked him I had no idea that three years on we would be so close, talking about marriage and kids and what dogs we would have and now- it feels like its all being ripped from underneath me and he doesn’t want to even try to make it work. I guess I just thought that if he really loved me and what we have had, he’d fight for me… and I don’t know if he will or not.
I don’t know what’s going to happen, he’s been there for me through everything- he’s seen me at my worst and best and I’m not ready for this to end, I don’t know if I ever will be. We both just want time to stop so we can be happy as we have been without having to face this crap, but we can’t and the uncertainty is killing me inside.
Sorry to be such a downer, just feel utter shite.