breadbasket
Well-known member
It seems to be with each passing year, the experience of education is only worsening due to multiple factors. I haven't posted here in a while. But I'll assure you, my time gone had it's up and downs. But for the most part, it was a very bad time for me.
College. The first semester was allot like early highschool for an average person like me. There will always be that one class I have no clue how to pass. And would pass with a D-. It would be nothing but a spin into anxiety that gets worse as I count the days. The second semester, I think is what makes it hard.
Second semester was when it began. After visiting relatives in the Philippines, a trip home was met with a bad taste as my father threatened to divorce my mother for reasons I wont disclose. It was an awful experience, though they reunited on the way home. Though as controlling as my dad was, he coerced me to get away from treatment out of pier pressure; he associated treatment and therapy with wimps and losers. He was an egotistical *******, especially if you realize why he threatened to divorce... and who gave in.
They wanted me to be a full time student, with a full time job- and it's hard for a first timer like me. My parents continue to refuse it, but they're quite demeaning about it. When doing homework, their statements and boasting would make it hard for me to concentrate on work. It added to my uncontrollable self hatred and anger that now returned. Their words stay in my mind, and it clouded my ability to do any school work. The fog got only denser, as I began to regularly explode over and threaten my friends. One by one, they left, and I became so much more lonelier. One particular one was of great anger. One person was able to progress through college much easier, while having a summer job. They would just go one about how they did calculus in high school, then plannign ahead about their career. While I was stuck in basic Algebra. Math was my favorite subject because it was the only thing I was good at. It's what kept me alive, I should say. When I realized how little progress I made, that last support was broken and I would plunge into insanity. My pride and joy was now broken.
Each day without a job was a lopsided fight of every increasing volume, anger, and veracity. It was followed by how fat and ugly I am, from parents, from siblings and from the god damned bathroom mirror. My mind was racing with intense anger. By then, it is just about near impossible to concentrate, and with it, my grades went from bad to worse, and thus it was a cycle- a death spiral as I would experience every negative emotion possible. The Anxiety was so intense, what I thought would never happen, happened.
During the February, it was already halfway through the semester. I completed only a few sections of mathematics, while everyone else was far ahead of my skill. It was painful shame sitting in a room for one hour, starting at a computer screen of a math problem I could barely understand. I would spend five hours in a tutoring center and arrive home at 9-10 pm. Where the hookers and druggies come out to play. My math teacher, was practically my enemy. He was a person with a teaching style, he never told the instructions, only explains and reads the questions, giving a few minor details. And if I don't understand, well I'm ******* doomed. I barely started, and the teacher doesn't give two fucks about the money that was given to him, so he can tell me how to solve a math equation and he ******* wont. Remember, math is my pride and joy. And I could never do it. I threatened him, and the next day I was arrested.
I was jailed for the night, and all I had was anger, shame. And most of all, silence. I felt low, sitting next to a drug addict, and I wondered if I was going to be him. I wanted to be an aerospace engineer, and I'm in a jail, next to an intense weed smoker. Locked with him. I was only their for the night, and thankfully the case was dropped. But my record now had this, only hampering my ability to be employed. I was never able to finish the semester.
I had to perform another second semester. It isn't much better in terms of performance. the beginning was pretty good. But my parents, shat on it. And refused responsibility in the beginning of October. I was still a fat, stinking slob they saw me as, and I hated it. It got only more intense. I sat there on the dinner table. Being berated by two drill instructors that were my parents. My father called me a hopeless, clueless, dumb, arrogant child. My mother called me the most unhealthy, the worst of them all. They'd have any other child than me. They said they wouldn't care if I commit suicide, or got arrested. My dad would even threaten to throw me off a bridge himself. And as I left for college, I can barley think. Just like the February day I was arrested. And they cant figure out why the fresia I'm so ******* mad, or afraid, or weak, or fat, or have a low self esteem.
The good news was that I went to a counselor for help. I was sent to a hospital for help and testing, because based on my records, I had no choice. I had to go. And I was picked up late at night, and with an angry father who refuses to take responsibility. Who I would sit their with the car, completely silent. He would tell me to shut up. Or stop making noise. I would only sit there, without a sound, not even breathing. And he, the one who bullied me for so many years. Mocked me for so many years, and gets to laugh about it to his co workers. Is acting out over me.
It's been a month since then. I'm failing every class. I'm anxious, watching as I throw away a 2,600 dollar tuition fee. I had an outburst last week, that caused me to be suspended until I am allowed back on campus by the Dean of Students. Precious days of study being thrown away as I am 2/3 done with the semester by time, but only a quarter of the needed progress. I began threatening, and losing friends again. I'm just waiting for the end. For me to screw up. Let my anger take me whole, or for my parents to finally throw me away.
College. The first semester was allot like early highschool for an average person like me. There will always be that one class I have no clue how to pass. And would pass with a D-. It would be nothing but a spin into anxiety that gets worse as I count the days. The second semester, I think is what makes it hard.
Second semester was when it began. After visiting relatives in the Philippines, a trip home was met with a bad taste as my father threatened to divorce my mother for reasons I wont disclose. It was an awful experience, though they reunited on the way home. Though as controlling as my dad was, he coerced me to get away from treatment out of pier pressure; he associated treatment and therapy with wimps and losers. He was an egotistical *******, especially if you realize why he threatened to divorce... and who gave in.
They wanted me to be a full time student, with a full time job- and it's hard for a first timer like me. My parents continue to refuse it, but they're quite demeaning about it. When doing homework, their statements and boasting would make it hard for me to concentrate on work. It added to my uncontrollable self hatred and anger that now returned. Their words stay in my mind, and it clouded my ability to do any school work. The fog got only denser, as I began to regularly explode over and threaten my friends. One by one, they left, and I became so much more lonelier. One particular one was of great anger. One person was able to progress through college much easier, while having a summer job. They would just go one about how they did calculus in high school, then plannign ahead about their career. While I was stuck in basic Algebra. Math was my favorite subject because it was the only thing I was good at. It's what kept me alive, I should say. When I realized how little progress I made, that last support was broken and I would plunge into insanity. My pride and joy was now broken.
Each day without a job was a lopsided fight of every increasing volume, anger, and veracity. It was followed by how fat and ugly I am, from parents, from siblings and from the god damned bathroom mirror. My mind was racing with intense anger. By then, it is just about near impossible to concentrate, and with it, my grades went from bad to worse, and thus it was a cycle- a death spiral as I would experience every negative emotion possible. The Anxiety was so intense, what I thought would never happen, happened.
During the February, it was already halfway through the semester. I completed only a few sections of mathematics, while everyone else was far ahead of my skill. It was painful shame sitting in a room for one hour, starting at a computer screen of a math problem I could barely understand. I would spend five hours in a tutoring center and arrive home at 9-10 pm. Where the hookers and druggies come out to play. My math teacher, was practically my enemy. He was a person with a teaching style, he never told the instructions, only explains and reads the questions, giving a few minor details. And if I don't understand, well I'm ******* doomed. I barely started, and the teacher doesn't give two fucks about the money that was given to him, so he can tell me how to solve a math equation and he ******* wont. Remember, math is my pride and joy. And I could never do it. I threatened him, and the next day I was arrested.
I was jailed for the night, and all I had was anger, shame. And most of all, silence. I felt low, sitting next to a drug addict, and I wondered if I was going to be him. I wanted to be an aerospace engineer, and I'm in a jail, next to an intense weed smoker. Locked with him. I was only their for the night, and thankfully the case was dropped. But my record now had this, only hampering my ability to be employed. I was never able to finish the semester.
I had to perform another second semester. It isn't much better in terms of performance. the beginning was pretty good. But my parents, shat on it. And refused responsibility in the beginning of October. I was still a fat, stinking slob they saw me as, and I hated it. It got only more intense. I sat there on the dinner table. Being berated by two drill instructors that were my parents. My father called me a hopeless, clueless, dumb, arrogant child. My mother called me the most unhealthy, the worst of them all. They'd have any other child than me. They said they wouldn't care if I commit suicide, or got arrested. My dad would even threaten to throw me off a bridge himself. And as I left for college, I can barley think. Just like the February day I was arrested. And they cant figure out why the fresia I'm so ******* mad, or afraid, or weak, or fat, or have a low self esteem.
The good news was that I went to a counselor for help. I was sent to a hospital for help and testing, because based on my records, I had no choice. I had to go. And I was picked up late at night, and with an angry father who refuses to take responsibility. Who I would sit their with the car, completely silent. He would tell me to shut up. Or stop making noise. I would only sit there, without a sound, not even breathing. And he, the one who bullied me for so many years. Mocked me for so many years, and gets to laugh about it to his co workers. Is acting out over me.
It's been a month since then. I'm failing every class. I'm anxious, watching as I throw away a 2,600 dollar tuition fee. I had an outburst last week, that caused me to be suspended until I am allowed back on campus by the Dean of Students. Precious days of study being thrown away as I am 2/3 done with the semester by time, but only a quarter of the needed progress. I began threatening, and losing friends again. I'm just waiting for the end. For me to screw up. Let my anger take me whole, or for my parents to finally throw me away.
Some start like that, with rightful anger. 
