Fight

It’s been a difficult couple of weeks. Since I have never blogged about my personal life, I would like to do it this one time. Since freshman year, I have never had the time to be involved too deeply in any high school drama because I was so intently focused in school and it’s unrelenting work. The countless Saturdays that were marked as ‘hangout days’ passed by me as I stayed home with a book in my hands. Social life? What? Friends were only existent in school and left my world as I entered my home. Of course, this is not to say that my high school years were terrible. I enjoyed working as hard as I did and even though sometimes I felt like I wasn’t being appreciated enough by my parents, I personally took the satisfaction in the effort I was able to put in. Even until the first semester of senior year, I worked as hard as I could and scraped each and every point in my classes in the midst of college applications. Now that it is less than a month away from graduation, I have let go of the string that I have held so tightly in the past. I am tired. I can’t push through anymore. It seems like no matter what I do, I cannot see the point in it. Not being accepted into the colleges that I knew I deserved (sorry if I sound arrogant) basically took all the drive and determination out of me. The feeling of being a failure is too hard to shake off. Not only that, in that loosening of the grip, I slacked off on my school work and decided to socialize. Because I was trying to do all the things I have missed out the past years in just a couple of months, I guess I shocked my parents. I met a boy. A boy who lost his mother in December. Even though he and I grew into a relationship based on the desire to be with each other just as any other high school students form a relationship, mine had to be different. I told my mom that I was dating a boy (first relationship in my life) in hopes that I could be open with her. Big mistake. I was clear that she was holding back her disapproval of me dating. My parents found out that I had sneaked off on Saturdays to see him and the truth came out. They thought he resorted to me because of the grief brought on by his mother’s death. Or that I found him appealing because his dad is a doctor and owns a hospital, so that I, whose dream is to become a pediatrician, could gain some guidance. I was personally disgusted. It was as if my past actions did not matter in anything. They even questioned my faith in Christianity. That night was full of thoughts of suicide and questioning the point of living. Living in America and knowing what I know about the things teenagers do, I am the ideal daughter. I have values that I personally hold dear which keeps me far away from the temptations of smoking, drinking, etc. Therefore, to me, my parents should overlook the lie of sneaking off and just tell me to tell them when I am going to see him. But they had to take it to a scale I hadn’t even imagined. It was as if I committed the most detestable crime, and I didn’t value myself. My true frustration is that no one will ever know what I have gone through and understand to sympathize with me. I hate putting on a mask to everyone to pretend that everything is fine because everything is not. And truthfully, school is the last thing from my mind. If my parents can’t even respect my decisions and try to understand my point of view, why am I living? Of course, I am not suicidal, and I have tried to get back on track with school work as best as I could, but there is still that buried frustration deep down inside of me.