The pressure from not truly studying and wasting this whole week is starting to choke and stifle me.
This is it. I can't do this anymore. I've had enough. I hate it when I expose my vulnerabilities to other people but what other choice do I have? Most people don't understand and neither do they know what to say. I don't want to talk to my folks because I can't deal with their expectations on top of my own.
This feeling surfaced not too long ago, the few days before the European History paper and after the GP paper (which I still cannot get over, no matter how hard I try, and it's virtually the first thing that I think about every single morning when I wake up) but I was able to deal with it by crying like a big fucking fat baby.
But now? I can't even do that anymore. I thought I would be able to write something that goes like, "It seems like I have to cry once every week now", but no, I'm not even allowed that luxury.
I wish I didn't want this so badly, just so I wouldn't have to feel like this. I'm directionless, unmotivated and I'm close to being completely burnt out but I have two more weeks of shit to go through before I can put an end to all of this and go shopping once again. It's been two fucking months since I've last gone to Orchard Road. Do you know how goddamn torturous and plain wrong that is?
And it's not just my lack of shopping. It's everything. It's the A Levels. And I think I'm going to be devastated once again, next March when I go back to school and get my results.
For some reason the drive to study or attempt to study has completely dissipated into thin air and I'm just...
I don't know.
I need a lobotomy, once again. Or just a complete personality overhaul.
I hate myself right now. So fucking much.
Suicide has never looked more appealing.
(And that is merely empty dramatic effect.)