Alright, so since I don’t know any of you in real life, I feel it’s safe to tell you all that I had a complete mental breakdown yesterday in school.
Still not too sure what it was over.
Maybe exams. Maybe not.
But yeah. . . I was a sobbing, blubbering mess.
It started off a normal day. Normal Friday. Well, kind of. We had a green day in aid of something, where students got to wear green accessories. That was kind of abnormal. But still, it was a pretty normal Friday.
Previously, I had booked an appointment with the schools guidance councillor / careers advisor / geography teacher. It was meant to be just a casual talk about my back ups next year.
How wrong I was.
I think I lasted about. . . not even ten minutes before I burst into tears.
It was just normal conversation and questions about next year and suddenly I felt very under pressure and under the spot and overwhelmed and I just cried.
My teacher was ah-maze-zing. Like, seriously, she couldn’t of handled me any better. We tried to figure out why I couldn’t stop, but we couldn’t, so she just let me miss the next class. She had class herself, so she told me I can stay in her room and go on her laptop if I wanted to. I didn’t, but it was kind of her to let me. I tried to compose myself enough for the next class. It didn’t happen. I was still red faced and eyeliner stained. Literally, I haven’t worn eyeliner in like a week and I choose that day to re start…. *claps for oneself*
I stared at the walls in that room for so long I’m 100% convinced I could recite what each wall said.
She came back and comforted me again and told me I could stay as long as I could, but I admitted to her that all I wanted to do was to go home. I felt so bad for her though because she thought she had upset me and I tried to convince her otherwise, but I wasn’t really in a state of being abled to.
So I had to compose myself enough to collect my books I had left in my English class. My English teacher would be quite strict, but fair. I respect her so much as a teacher, and my class are currently the highest ranked in the school because of her. Anyway, I knocked on her door and she had a junior class taking notes off the board. I don’t think I was ever happier that the lights weren’t on. My face was still black and red. The first thing she asked me was “Are you alright?” and I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much concern in her face before. I “convinced” her I was, as much as I could anyway. She quickly filled me in on what I missed in the class and told me more pointers about the essay and then proceeded to tell me that the essay we were preparing for wasn’t due for next Tuesday. And she emphasised that it would be impossible and stupid to have it completed for Tuesday. I thanked her, and collected my books, and walked the empty halls again back to the little room where I originally had cried my eyes out.
My careers guidance councillor asked me did I want her to ring my parents. I hesitated, but agreed. Like, what could I have said to them? “Sorry Mam, I’m crying a lot, will you collect me?” Of course not! Even I wouldn’t have believed me. So she rang and they talked a bit and my mum said that they’ll be in to collect me. By now it was lunch time, so I didn’t want to venture to my locker room. I lingered around our office for a bit and waited to be collected.
My dad came and signed me out. It was the first time I had seen him in two weeks. He didn’t entirely understand what was going on. Neither could I, to be honest. But I cried in his car. It was probably the first time he’s seen me cry in a good few years.
I came home, and mum made me tea and I tried to tell her what happened. I still had no idea. By now I had received a few text messages from my friends about my whereabouts. I told them I was fine.
But eventually the tears stopped.
I’ll probably actually be fine soon.