Cheyenne Haslett ’13
Web Features Editor
Last weekend I had a mental breakdown. At least that’s what I’m calling it. It was my fourth mental breakdown this year.
It was over an English paper.
English is stressful, and I couldn’t think of an idea for this paper, but what was even more stressful was that my mom kept calling me upstairs and my brother kept knocking on my door and my friends kept IMing me with stupid, but very funny, and quite distracting links.
High school is stressful, and maybe I’m underestimating the definition of a “mental breakdown,” but before you judge me on that, lets just go over my daily schedule. Maybe then you’ll understand how the life of a student can easily unravel into what I call a mental breakdown.
Wake up at 6 a.m., and it’s pitch black out. Right here, we’ve already got a problem. I wake up before even the sun gets his lazy butt out of bed. How is someone supposed to function properly when they are forced out of bed, in the dark for that matter, and then have to try and make themselves look acceptable after having been up for five minutes, and then, forced onto a giant yellow bus full of other grumpy kids, to top it all off? And don’t forget, this is all before 7 a.m.
At this point, I’m already longing to be in my warm cozy bed.
Under my fluffy duvet.
Surrounded by a fortress of scrumptious pillows.
Anyway, moving on to the next portion of my super stressful day: classes. Yes, what you hear is true, students actually have to go from class to class for seven hours straight, and give their full effort in every single one.
And my day is not over after that, so no I can’t tell myself, “Only seven hours, just get through the seven hours and you’ll be fine.”
After classes, I go to my sport. Now, this part of my day, I am happy to say, does not make me want to curl up in a ball, or even cry for that matter.
No, this is my stress reliever.
After sports, I get to go home. Most would think home is the place I can exhale, relax, and rejuvenate for another extremely stressful day.
Well, that’s where you’re all wrong, because when I get home, my schedule is like this: unpackgymbag, sitdownatdesk, starthomework, gotodinner, scarflikethere’snotomorrow, finishhomework, shower, sleep. Breathing isn’t on the schedule because it’s just not top priority.
By the time I get to sleep, its close to 11, and all I can think is, “wow, I get to wake up in seven hours, then go to school for seven hours, and then come home and do almost seven hours of homework!”
And to think seven used to be my lucky number. Hah.