year six is taking a really big toll on me: it’s my last year in my school before I move on to university and the year that I finish up the IB diploma programme. I expected it to be difficult, to be hell on earth - and in some ways my expectations are fulfilled, in some ways the workload has exceeded them. it’s only the beginning of february; january was filled with late nights that were so close to the break of dawn they could hardly be considered night - and already my mind is as tired as my body. which is, to say the least, exhausted.
but it’s fulfilling to watch as the red of uncompleted assignments turn green with every submission, the ticks off of lists of things to do; watch as my sinful hands finish essay after essay, painting after painting. I am stressed. I am tired. but I know it’s not the end of the world yet, and maybe that’s enough for me.
don’t give up yet. I will tell myself this at four thirty in morning, caffeine fuelled and shaking with the prospect of unfinished work, don’t give up yet. I didn’t come all this way to sit on the floor and cry. I came to get my diploma and I will leave with it. I came to get my diploma and I will leave with it.
