Dear July

3

06.07.16

Dear July,

It's been a long two days. Yesterday was a miserable, cold day, with bucket fulls of rain being dumped upon us. The weather, as my literature teacher would say, was a reflection of my own 'inner turmoil'. Yes, the tears were flowing freely as I freaked out over anything and everything. O it was a good day to be me. I'm sure you've caught on to the sarcasm by now, so get used to it because I'm feeling kind of sassy today.

Yesterday, I could barely force myself out of the thick comforts of my bed. I put off the future for the next day, and pretended that time did not exist.

Today was vastly different. Instead of exhausted and rushed I felt prepared. This, invariably, could not last, however. When the time finally came for me to brave the world, I held my chin up high, walked into the university building, and promptly hid in the ladies bathrooms whilst I waited for my lecture to start. It seemed that not even my thickly applied eyeliner could make me feel brave today. Anxiety knotted itself tightly in my stomach, making my legs weak and my hands tingle. Embarrassment flooded my body when I took a wrong turn and almost walked into the wrong lecture.

Now as I sit at home and think over those four arduous hours spent concentrating heavily as we covered an entire's year's worth of study in a single afternoon, and the many hours prior to that spent crying through yet another existential crisis-something which many other students are struggling through too-I ask the question why? Why do they feel the need to subject us to this? Why can I not accept the fact that not completing year twelve does not make me a failure? Why do I feel cornered and hopeless?

I am so angry that they have this power over me. I am so furious that I have allowed them to play me in this way. I am disgusted that I unwittingly played their game, and lost.

Until Tomorrow,

E xx