If I had five cents for every tear I cried during year 12, I would be a bazillionaire, living with lots of dogs and a bunny rabbit. I would be doing arty things and writing books and having fun. But unfortunately, tears do not equal money (someone should see to this) and instead all they do is make your face soggy and nose runny. To be fair, I am a crier, but to get the picture straight, if I ran when I were stressed (this would actually be so much more useful than crying – at least I’d be fit), and got five cents from each step, I’d still be a bazillionaire.

The system doesn’t break everyone, and to those people who come out unscathed, except for maybe added kilos for eating too many two minute noodles or just come out smarter, because you THRIVE on school and working (holy cheeses please teach me your ways), I commend you for surviving an (almost) deathly fortress of stress, tests, bitchiness and no life.

(I hate you in theory, because hating you in practice would use too much of my energy that I’m meant to be using for studying. Also, I’m sure you’re all very lovely people).

But the fact that a system bases itself on the misery of people (of course not intentionally, but this is what it feels like sometimes) absolutely astounds me. The ton of pressure put on us as young people, especially at my rather academically minded high school (for which, yes I am grateful, but at the same time, I loathe), is crazy, especially with the myriad of other things we have to deal with: friends, body image, food, having a balanced lifestyle, having a clean room, having some fun, living.

And the worst thing about this is that I know one second after my last exam has finished, this won’t even matter, and I’d even like to say it doesn’t matter now, but I know that it matters to me. I wish I was slightly less invested, or I cared less or something in the lesser degree, because this full on studying thing is killing me.

I’m a ‘should’ve, would’ve, could’ve person and I wish I wasn’t because I know it’s so detrimental, and I’m trying my best to wean myself off this poisonous way of thinking, because it absolutely drives my insane, but I barely have enough energy to study, let alone change my way of thinking.

But through the shitstorm, I am proud to say that I am still here, struggling along with my 11.8kg school bag and crying, but getting up off my floor and/or bed (depends on the severity of the bad time), and writing that damn essay or doing that exam.

(I hope this gives all of you in year 12 some comfort that other people are also (temporarily) hating life, and those still getting there that it will be tough, but you will survive it.)

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