Stress

crazywriterHello, my beautiful readers (I want to spread love so I always say something like that. You are worth it!). This is both a personal update and a warning that I won’t be able to post many blog posts this coming year. And if I do, that means I’m either slacking off, super passionate about something that it’s worth slacking off over, or too depressed to do anything but write on the internet.

And now, the update. School is far more stressful than I had anticipated. I’ve got the work ethic. I’m doing everything I can (while keeping my health first, of course) to stay on top of things. The problem is, I’m having trouble in school. In previous years, the only problem standing between me and straight A’s was my poor time management skills. Such is not true anymore. The material isn’t making sense to me–only in Chemistry and Geometry, though. The little time I have is devoted to homework, so it’s difficult to find the time to get help. I’m committed to a three-hour program that meets three days a week, which I’m not about to quit. (And don’t take advantage of my openness by asking what it is.)

My anxiety has gotten especially bad. At least three times a week so far, I have had to step out of class for emotional reasons. And you know what is really distressing? I’ve lost confidence in my academic ability. Last year at this time, I knew full well that I could do anything. For a reason I don’t know, I just don’t feel that way anymore. During an in-class essay, it took me almost half the period to finish the introductory paragraph. Putting the pencil to the paper terrifies me. Nothing I write seems to flow anymore. It doesn’t sound like me. Telling me to just have more confidence will not be helpful. I do not know why this terrifies me. This is distressing to me. This lack of confidence applies to every class, it seems. When I’m called on in French class, my ability to speak freely disappears. I can’t present in front of the class so easily. My heart races when I have to say anything. Although I try to push myself to leave my comfort zone, nothing works. My lack of confidence becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.

I’ve got to go now. I don’t have to time to continue.
Cheers.

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About Dauntlessly Cautious

I’m Abigail, a wildly emotional teenage blogger-empress. Sometimes I blog about my copious feelings. Sometimes–a lot, actually–I blog about my past. Sometimes it’s random and unexpected–romantic thoughts passing by, an odd dream I had, and so on. Oh yes, and I have a lot of opinions. Chances are you’ll disagree with at least one of them. I started blogging in April 2013, a little before my fourteenth birthday. Since then, I’ve published many posts–some groundbreaking and ingenious, some embarrassingly dismal. No matter their quality, however, they all play some sort of a part in my life story. If you’re in a stalking mood, read how my attitude changes from good to bad and back to better again. It’s all me. This is the mind of the odd, imaginative girl you see in the hallways, the cafeteria, and in classes. This is the heart of a human battlefield turned into a wonderful, scar-littered garden of hopes and dreams. Welcome to the two (or three, or four) sides of me–the daunting and the rash, the apprehensive and the careful.

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