Loosing Control

My head is pounding, excruciating. And I can feel the weight, the pressure, pushing down. Trying to write an assignment, like I have been trying to do for hours, today, yesterday, the day before, and before that…

My head isn’t in this. In fact, it couldn’t be less involved in reality. Work hard… I always have. I felt like I owed something, putting myself behind bars of steal to force every ounce of strength I had into it… I can’t do anything else. I have to… I mean, in my field, you would really think I would care more. about people… I study a variety of social sciences, and Law. It’s hard to explain. It’s a specialised course, and in the end you generally aim to work in a developing country. Kind of imperialist “save the day” shite.

It would seem that in my field, then, I would care more. Maybe I did once. Or maybe care is a strong word. I like learning, mostly. I like the order and precision of Law. Mostly, what I learn makes me angry. Very angry. But none of this is the point…

I had to leave my family when I came to study here. Which isn’t really an okay thing to do. I travel home every few days, most weeks. It is incredibly stressful. And I work. to pay my way through. Which is okay, besides the intense and seemingly never ending work load…

Well, yes, I am stressed. and there has always been intense pressure on me, from my mother. I am the only member of my family who got this far. She wants me to succeed, to do better. Which is understandable. That was it though. Everything was so bad for so long that I could not let her down, and I have given up so much and put so much into my studies that I feel like if things go badly, I would be really hurting her. She really needs me to be okay. She puts so much hope and faith into me. I am not allowed to be broken. She relies on me. for everything, she relies on me. I could not disappoint her, but more than that, I could not take away the support she needs from me. She never knew then, and I don’t want her to find out now. She needs to be able to depend on me. They all do, my family. I have to be the strong one… reliable… indestructible…

I have fallen apart. The rhythm of life is out of sync. Time is muddled… Since she broke open my illusions, and all my inadequacy became all the more apparent, and the age old hatred I harbour in myself became too strong to ignore, I cannot concentrate. I can’t look at myself. I can’t eat, can’t sleep. If and when I sleep, I awaken more tired than before, and the first thing I feel is resentment and anger. Headaches, constantly. Most days, I spend locked in my dark room trying desperately to scratch out a few hundred words, trying to research, to do required readings, anything, but nothing goes in, nothing. I try to immerse myself in work. I always found it the best way to cope before. But I can’t. I can literally feel shreds of my brain falling away like wet bread. It’s too much. It’s all too much. And this college year has done nothing to help… The modules are irrelevant… The lecturers so disorganised… Because of lack of information and general incompetence of the faculty, one of my grades slipped below my average…  I felt like this at least I could control. My grades have always been consistent… When I realised what had happened, and it wasn’t my fault… If it was my fault, I wouldn’t mind so much… I lost it in front of  these people for the first time. They saw something that I don’t want anyone to see. That ugly thing… the anger… Not much. My lecturer asked me to calm down… For the very first time, I lost control, I shouted at him. I won’t repeat what I said here… sufficed to say it was not appropriate. I never lose control like that. I don’t let people See. I got home, and, of course, I cut myself… I don’t know why. It was pretty deep…

I can’t let my grades slip. If my grades slip, I am not in control. I won’t last very long… I have to keep up. I have to be strong. For my family. I can never let people see. Being strong, for my family, is the only reason I am still alive. I must keep up. It must be really bad, I can’t find the strength to be mad at her… I really want to see her. and that sickens me…