Now I can't make it stop. I never really moved on in a healthy way, just buried it all behind me. Suddenly it's distracting, exhausting, a more acutely painful wound, that I realize isn't going to be healing all that soon. I just want to sleep and cry and I keep losing track of why anything matters. My teachers will cut me some slack, but I need to get it together. I'll be fine in a few days right? Maybe a week?
WEDNESDAY, 10:45 PM
Meh, but life goes on. All caught up on my assignments, aside from an English paper about something that happened to me sometime. I think I can handle that one. It's looking like I won't be acing anything just yet, though. Maybe next semester, after I've shaken some of this rust off, but for now, I'm just hoping to pass everything.
To convey my comprehension of narrative and description, I even finished my little essay about that time I moved to Winooski. My English teacher suggested being upfront about this suicide business, lest teachers mistake my behavior for disinterest and apathy. No, nothing like that, I thought. I've gotten pretty good at keeping that much to myself.
FRIDAY, NOON
To convey my comprehension of narrative and description, I even finished my little essay about that time I moved to Winooski. My English teacher suggested being upfront about this suicide business, lest teachers mistake my behavior for disinterest and apathy. No, nothing like that, I thought. I've gotten pretty good at keeping that much to myself.