Stop One on the Road to Finding "Myself"

As I sat in my final class of the semester before Christmas Break, I went over and over in my mind all the decisions that I had made differently that would majorly affect the next eighteen weeks in front of me. All of these decisions were made within in the last two weeks, and although brash, were the toughest decisions that I had ever made. I had left behind what I had put my entire life into for the last 2 years. I dropped it as if it were like pulling your songs socks off after a long day. It was a long day, Yearbook was something that I had tried so hard to be good at. I put so much into it and only want a little bit to come out of it, but she has nothing to bleed. Yearbook is the cold hard bitch of my existence at this point. I had taken so much hatred and malice from her, but only ever put my all into getting her to like me. I was promised things from her that were never received and left a callus toward her that was quickly cover from the world. I decided to quite. It was seemingly out of nowhere, but I had been absolutely hating it for months. I thought the only way out of my harsh deadlines were death. I wanted to die. If I didn't get everything that I had tried to get done, finished I would be accused of being a terrible leader. I tried so hard to be a good leader. I was organized, I had great ideas, and I was good at directing people, everything a leader needs,right? Well, no I was extremely stressed the entire time that I was on staff. I was never good enough for anyone, and treated coldly compared to the other leaders. I was promised second in charge and was given nothing. I was treated as though I was nothing. Why would you continue working for something with no payout. It was obvious that I would never get any reward out the program so I got out. My grades had dropped significantly, I was getting more stress from the editor and sponsor than my core-subject teachers. I was putting more work into my pages than my homework, and it showed. My back was in so much pain from stress that I couldn't sit in a desk without almost being brought to tears. I was missing school because of the stress it brought me,while receiving texts from them about not being there to help. I would cry every night just about. Nothing should have that kind of control over me. This was something I joined for fun my sophomore year and it was bringing me to loath life. That was not how I wanted to live. I had just come back from vein out sick for a day and a half because of my Sciatica. It was a Wednesday, I had spent all morning dreading what was to come in Psychology. I knew the editor Madison, would have something to say about me not being there to help even though the deadline had been that Monday. I hated that I wasn't able to help, but no one believed it. When I sat down I opened up my laptop and clicked on the link to open up the yearbook website, cringing because I knew she was about to lean over and comment about something I was failing on my pages. She did, it was as I was typing in my password. "I put in the cutouts for Trends page yesterday." She said "Thank you," I answered dully. "Also, Miller says she needs to see you." I can still feel the pain behind my eyes when I closed them in that moment. The panic and everything that over took me in that moment. I shook it out of my mind and logged in. I opened up to Trends page. Throughout the spread was 7 yellow bullets indicating comments. I opened them each, revealing Miller's comments of my life's work. My stomach rolled in on itself and my throat shriveled up. I could feel pressure behind my eyes. I had to get away from Madison and that computer. I wanted away from the comments telling me to start over. I begged my teacher to let me get out of the room. I didn't know where I was going, but I walked as swiftly as my feet could take me. I went up to the office and stopped at the front desk only to ask if my guidance counselor was in. She wasn't so I scribbled on the whit board on her door stating "Arianna Swan for schedule change." The words blazed up at me in the red expo. They were real now. It wasn't just something I had thought. I was really about to drop Yearbook. Since she wasn't there I turned around and walked straight to the library. I walked through to Ms. Day's office, the social worker. I had been going there to discuses my stress for about a month at that point.I went in and sat down in front of her desk like normal. "How are you, Arianna?" "I want to drop Yearbook." After hearing my confessions on hows much I hated it she emailed my guidance counselor and copied in Ms. Miller without my knowing, asking for a schedule change. I was mortified when Miller waled in and stated she was glad I quite and that I needed to discover who I was first. She talked endlessly on how Yearbook was going terribly.Eventually it turned to my being a bad leader because of poor communication skills. It was a solid 20 bashing about my fake personality. I had no idea what it meant, or that I needed to find "myself". I was under the illusion that the person I woke up to be everyday was "myself". I became even more restful towards her. She knew nothing about my personality and had no right to say she did. I may have known her for three years but she never bothered to listen to anything I said. I quite because of her when it came down to it. No one will miss me or mourn my absence. I do through short bouts of depression about my quite but I thine distract myself with other things. I am going to Ms.Day at least once a week to discuss my problems and why I act the way I do and how to fix it. I wish I didn't quite and could helped more, but I knew it was time, and it was. I just have to find other ways to fill my time. On to find constructive things to do. My first task to finding "myself".