More Than They Know

3...2...1...and Done

Camila's POV

Three. That's how many days left until I'm free of my hell on earth. Three more, not even full in-school-for-6-hours days, left. It sounds like the easiest week to get through of the entire year, but the first two days have proven it isn't. In this school, this last week means final exams, and final exams mean my anxiety levels to high-heaven and my hope in a constant fluctuating state. I've been struggling through the back end of this year just waiting to be at the end where we do nothing in class so I can stop stressing. Too bad even that hope is gone.
It's not like I'm not smart or capable enough, but ever since I got hit with my depression and anxiety hard I stopped being the smart kid and became the weird kid in the back of the class that shows up 20% of the time and you've always assumed is lazy and doesn't care about school and their future. It was like everyone forgot that they've known me since 7th grade or even kindergarten.
In the seemingly-stereotypical cry for help that I live in, I'm only in school occasionally because most days I was up until 3-4 in the morning, worrying about something unimportant, working on some makeup work that I know I have to get done before class the next day, or just can't get my body out of bed because a third of me says we should probably go to school and the stronger two-thirds says we don't need to and school sucks anyway. Despite the problem being entirely in my head, that doesn't mean it isn't real. I could go on forever about the difficult life I live now that I'm trying to fight myself everyday, let alone other people or expectations in my life, but that won't be nearly as important in three days.
Now that I've gotten my privileged-upper-middle-class rant out of the way, I can explain why the first two days of this week sucked. I didn't even make it in for the final I had on Monday because I stayed up until 3 am the night before working on the review packet for that class because I knew I needed the points from it or I might not even pass the class. Then Tuesday I made it in but my French final was the death of me. I had already resigned to failing French because I'm over high school. I'm over worrying about my GPA. I'm over the trivial excitements you enjoy in your high school years. I just want to graduate and get into a college or university that recognizes that French is not necessary for me to excel in theatre set design. However, my French final meant struggling through a 100 question test and attempting to have a conversation in French with my teacher, who is the worst teacher you will ever meet. I've failed that class, but whatever.
Now I'm laying in bed thinking about the last three days of school and the summer I have to look forward to. Most people (or Instagram quotes) will tell you to be in the present and stop worrying about the future, but my present is in a constant state of suck that I can't do much about at 11:30 pm so I plan for the future. I've been thinking about the awesome time I'm gonna have on my school system's leadership trip around Europe that leaves not even a week after school gets out and the camp counselor job I get to do three days after I get back from that trip. I'm also looking forward to the little things in between like Warped Tour and hanging out with my best friend who goes to a different high school and lives 20 minutes away. I would be texting/Skype-ing her but she has to study for her finals tomorrow too so our conversation tonight was limited to:
Her: "Apple juice is bae"
Me: "Grape juice is better"
Her: "Eh"
We're extremely weird. I know. But that's why we have each other.
Luckily, I'm finally starting to feel tired from the sleep medication I have to take nightly to avoid being anxiously awake. Maybe I'll feel better tomorrow morning and make it in for my world history final...