Today was one of the worst days of my highschool career. Probably somewhere in the bottom ten. I guess it's because I've just now realized that there is such a thing, for me, as just not being good enough. Before, it's always been that if I try as hard as I can, I am as successful as I want to be. No one has ever expected anything more from me. But now I'm failing. And there's really nothing I can do about it. Sure, people are being patient temporarily. But sooner or later they're going to loose patience. Some people already are. Zee is. We did a lab today. I hadn't read it over. And she just completely refused to tell me what was going on. She did it herself and gave me the data, and got kind of mad when I did the only thing she asked me to do wrong. She treated me like an idiot, because I was acting like one. Sure, I'm going through a rough spot. Sure, I didn't really have time to read over the lab by the time I finished my other homework. But that's not good enough for Zee.
I fear I'm not good enough for Mr. Thomas. Tuesday was by far the worst pit practice I've had. There were times when I didn't even play. Then, even though I pushed myself as hard as I could, I didn't do very well in band practice either. Yesterday I got stomach pains in Brit Lit and had to skip practice altogether. I used to know that whatever I did, he would forgive me because he knew I was basically a good musician and basically a good kid, and that I was always trying as hard as I could. But sometimes it doesn't come down to how hard you try. Sometimes it's just about whether or not you suck.
I think this getting sick thing is a perfect example of the spirit being willing but the flesh being weak. I'm just too tired. But whenever I think this, a little voice in my head goes, "Excuses don't make it better. If you want to be better, suck it up. Make your flesh strong."
I guess what's really bothering me, though, is that I'm not good enough for Molly either. I've been a jerk and I've been a downer. I've been ignoring her, and paying attention to Julian instead. She pointed this out to me on the bus today. It has become clear to me that she is not a source of infinite support. Nor should she be. She's done enough for me. She helped me when I was freaking out at the band competition. She drove my stuff home yesterday when I missed practice. She's listened to me and understood me throughout this whole thing. Now she shouldn't have to put up with my endless complaining, my lack of interesting things to say, my negligence, my absence, and my lack of capacity to listen to her.
The suckiest part of this is that I don't ignore and endlessly complain to anyone else. Just the person I'm closest to. Actually, I do the same thing to my mother, only all the time. This is suddenly making me feel bad about that.
So it just comes down to a can't. I can't do everything. If I want to be a good student, I can't be a good musician. If I want to be a good friend, I can't have a love interest. Giving up this diary is a can't in and of itself. It would give me a lot more time, but at this point, having it taken away from me would be like having one of my internal organs removed. I lean on it so much that if I didn't have it, I just wouldn't be able to function.
So what do I do? What the hell do I do?
Oh God. I've been saying forever that I can't do it anymore, and I keep doing it. So I guess this is just venting. But still, that's what it feels like. And it gets worse all the time. I am not getting any better, even though I tell people I am.
I'm having bloodwork done tomorrow. I really, really, really hope I'm anemic.
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