š„ does not understand depression.
Or overthinking.
Or even the slightest sadness.
I owe š„ guilt and forgiveness, but I still deserve my space, donāt I?
When I woke up this morning, a tweet from the official account of the Student Council said that grades come out tomorrow, Christmas Day.
I gave my prelim grades one last look before I signed out and spend the Christmas Eve waiting for Christmas (and my final grades).
I was eating when š„ asked my what my password was again. š„ always knew. š„ has access to my account since it was made. But š„ asked me, then threw me the bomb.
āWhat was your password again? You failed a subject.ā
I couldnāt believe it. I knew I was in trouble but nothing was finalized until itās out. I had hope.
Asking whatās already known.
Wanting to know everything first before everybody else does.
Typical of š„.
āGrades are out tomorrow, the council said.ā
āNo itās out now, I saw it. You failed one. Are you gonna get advised? What are you gonna do?ā
I wanted to breathe, but I felt like I couldnāt. It still hasnāt settled in my head and š„ was already asking me for a resolution. I should feel guilty because I failed š„ but I wish š„understands that I failed myself, too. I burdened š„ but I burdened myself, too. My college life will extend one semester because of that one failed subject. I wanted to graduate as early as I can. I wanted to always be a regular student. I still had hopes to become a Deanās Lister. All of that were gone. š„ wanted all of that for me, but I wish š„knows that I wanted all of that for me, too. I want to appreciate š„ and I do, but I wish I was the first to see my grades. Whatever the result was, Iād tell š„. I wanted to be the one to tell š„, I wanted to be responsible for my failures and be strong to admit my mistakes.
But for me, things never go the way I wouldāve wished them to. š„knew first and was the one to tell me. The first thing I felt was disbelief, then denial, then disappointment. But I wasnāt surprised. This was something š„ would do. And this is something I would do. I always fail at doing something š„ wants. š„ wanted me to take up this program, so I did, and now I failed š„. Itās not the end, but what if this is a sign? Iām on my third year, have I stayed too long to quit now? And even if I wanted to quit, I wouldnāt be able to. š„ would never, ever allow it. Or maybe this is a sign to still fight. Iāve been doing this for three years. I canāt say I donāt want to be an accountant. It has become my dream and goal. I wasnāt debarred, this means I can stay. This means thereās still hope.
All of this were in my head and I wanted to think. Alone. By myself. To set my mind. To accept the situation I put myself into. To move forward and to know better next time. To do better next time. To figure out what I really want to do with my life. To know how to handle the coming year. I wanted to think about all of it.
But š„ kept calling. š„ wanted me to continue washing the clothes as if I didnāt receive a failing grade. Life had to go on, I know but I wanted some time for myself. I declined the calls and now š„ is shouting. I was updating some of my friends that Iām fine when š„ turned the wifi off. Give me some time, please. Please let me sulk. Let me realize what I did. Please stop making me feel guilty. That only makes me less guilty and more angry. At you, š„, and at myself. I know you think youāre helping, but youāre doing the opposite. Please understand that Iām sad, Iām overthinking and Iām wanting to recover. I want to be by myself for now. I donāt want to talk to anyone for now. Please understand, š„.
