Saturday, 13 August 2011

Reminiscing about my school days

Yesterday before I fell asleep I started reminiscing and suddenly I understood why I'm usually in such a foul mood when I'm back in my hometown and why I was in such a hurry to get away from there. It all has to do with my secondary school (13-15). Thinking back on my time in secondary school I realise that I have hardly any good memories from it at all. It all comes down to me being miserable, sad and depressed. I remember fleeting moments of joy, especially when we got back tests in almost whatever subject and I had beat the rest of the class to it. Those moments exist mostly in Social Studies and English, where I was always the top of my class.

Reminiscing I realise that a part of my unhappiness may come from the fact that I was gravely unstimulated. I never had any homework. I only studied for tests the day before test day. I finished all class assignments halfway through class, finished off my homework during class and still had time left. How I hardly ever got below a B shows either the tardiness or the stupidity of my class, or both. I finished secondary school with only A's and B's, mostly A's, and I remember that the only feeling I had on graduation day was relief. Relief that it was over. I would never ever have to see these people again. I cried that day, not because I was sad to go, but because I was so happy that it was over.

I started sixth form (16-18) in a new town, as did almost everyone in my hometown since we had no school for sixth form there. I promised myself that that would be a new beginning. True to myself I told my mentor my whole story. She was the first living person I actually told everything to. My parents didn't (don't) know. I think my best friend have gotten the whole story throughout the years. The only other person I've actually told the whole story is my current boyfriend.

Secondary school also has a lot to do with my sexuality. Before sixth form I had pretty much no sexualilty, because those people had made me totally convinced that no boy would ever look my way twice. But then of course I had to fall in love. Which at first made me totally terrified, since I was certain I would get rejected. Now that didn't happen and all of sixth form was basically a huge boost of my self-confidence.

Still, all of my remaining insecurities begun in secondary school. And in my head my mind keeps telling me that I'm never good enough. I'm always doing something wrong. I'm trying to fight those feelings away.

How come it's always twice as hard to grow accustomed to good things as to bad things?

Anyway, I should stop doing these posts. Everytime I reminisce i end up being depressing and that's not who I want to be anymore.

Here are some older posts I've made, reminiscing about those days:

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