2:25 p.m. - 08/06/02
back to pencils, back to books, back to teachers' dirty looks.
I'm out of it; I can't seem to reattach my head to my shoulders. I'm still reeling from the "you're stupid" umbrage brought on by the realization that I don't have senior status at the high school. For some reason, it doesn't matter to me that I'm still going to graduate on time or that I'll have senior status by semester. It doesn't matter that I took almost a year of school off and am still on track to graduate. N*land is still running around in my head telling me I'm dumb, leaving me too tired to type. Almost.
I've been working on the portfolio this morning and looking through correspondence courses as I'll need to take one in order to fix my credits for graduation. It's really difficult to have my textbooks but no assignments, and I'm having flashbacks to being in Rogers last year before I took the semester off- when I had my books and was throwing myself into the same physics text that now sits unopened on the counter. I want very badly to do more work than is healthy and I want very badly to curl up in a ball and never write my name on a sheet of looseleaf again. Welcome to Mary's relationship with school.
There is absolutely no way an hour with the doc tomorrow will be enough. I need so much longer than an hour to figure out how I'm feeling and how to feel better. My shoulders are like steel; I need time to relax them and let the burden slip down to the floor. Thoughts are running around in my head, accusations: you are stupid; you aren't loved; you'll never get into college; you'll never find the money; you'll never have home; you never had home; you don't deserve friends; you screw everything up... They make less sense than that in my head; the words run into each other, one senseless scream that sounds like metal against metal, my least favorite sound - that makes my muscles tense.
First semester shapes out at: AP psych, physics, science literature, creative writing, Oz history/government, American history, and "fashion strategies" (whatever the hell that is.) plus the correspondence course. It doesn't seem like too rough a semester though I'll certainly have to work harder than I did last semester. Still, I want nothing more than to curl up in bed and not wake up. I have a feeling NY will barely come up in tomorrow's conversation with the superdoc. I have a feeling it'll be all about why Mary feels the need to burn herself quiet in the wake of registration.
For the record, I do not act on all my needs...
chord
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