Tiny freak out

I know I said at the end of the last post that I was going to bed but I had a tiny freak out. I got very emotional and teared up a bit. It’s partially because I was completing a survey about applications to post-secondary institutions, because I know stuff like that calms me down, and I was a bit stressed about that post. It was hard to write. It got me thinking about everything I’ve gone through, which is weird. I wrote an original version of that post that was four times as long and very detailed, and spanned a lot of subjects. For some reason, that just didn’t get to me. I remember sitting there and thinking “I just put into words so many of the things I’ve been dealing with, and it’s not getting to me at all.” For a minute I wondered if it was because everything had miraculously gotten better and I could move on and be strong and heal and all that good stuff, then I blinked and came back to reality.

I think what was so hard about the shorter, significantly lighter post was that I actually hit “publish.” People know about it now, which again is weird. Just because I’ve never said “I have depression” before doesn’t mean I’ve written from any perspective other than my own or tried to hide it. I just never brought it up. Same way I’m madly in love with my goldfish but have yet to dedicate a post to him. (I do feel bad about that. Piggy knows he’s loved, though. It takes some serious love to produce a fat goldfish.)

So then I was a little stressed and I checked my inbox because that’s what I do throughout the day and there was an email from OCAS, the Ontario College Application Service (which I used to apply to college), inviting me to take part in an applicant survey with the chance to win some Best Buy certificates. I like free stuff and surveys so the two of them together means certain interest. In taking this survey, I was also asked questions about whether I’d applied to university and some other things related to that process. Well, I have applied to university. I applied last academic year in December, then I had a total breakdown and ended up in the hospital. I couldn’t go to school for a while. It got a bit better, then worse. I actually didn’t attend school at all this semester so I’m down to this semester of my second go at grade 12 to graduate.

I highly doubt I would be in this position if I didn’t have depression. Well, I just wouldn’t. I would be able to leave my house like everyone else, and go to class (which I loved the whole time by the way, even when I couldn’t leave the house – what was keeping me in was much stronger than that love though), and follow through with my university applications. I went from a 95 average to one in the 50s and I’m not happy. I’m actually quite devastated. I really wanted to go to Queen’s University. I’d been researching it for years, I knew what courses I wanted to take, and even what building I wanted to live in. It broke my heart to receive that rejection letter even though I knew full well it was coming since I wouldn’t be graduating from high school.

Who knew that in trying to calm myself down, I would make everything worse? I’m definitely going to get going on Eff Parade, which will be dedicated specifically to those issues. Though, I might change my mind and just bring it all over here and have a warning on top of each heavy post and put the content after a page break. Bah. Sleep, then decisions. I feel a bit better now, but I think it will always make me sad that I can’t go to university. At least not until I have a college diploma. I want to go into law I think so what’s two more years on top of a law degree? Valuable life experience, that’s what.