Epic Fail...mentally, at least

I keep getting myself into these situations.

Due to a recent bought of depression, I am failing 2 classes the last semester of my senior year. This is just mid term, so I can pull the grades up, but if I don't maintain a 3.0 for the year, I risk losing my academic scholarship to Transy.
My AP English teacher understood when I told her I "was going through a tough time" and is letting me make up the work. I have not spoken to the other teacher, but I am considering dropping that credit if at all possible. I have to put things back together and I do not need any added stress. If not, I hope she accepts that I was going through a tough time and does not pry. I really do not need a guidance referral.

The sad part is that all of this stuff just did not matter. I was going to kill myself. School work was not at the top of my mind.

I nearly had a panic attack in my English teacher's room, she calmly told me to breathe and that I could make it up. I don't think she knew what else to do.
I am feeling really bad about all this. But I need to focus and not let myself slip into depression again.
I can't believe what I have done to myself...

Class of 2010, we rule

Sent my deposit. I am officially a student at Transylvania University. I schedule classes soon, my prom is next weekend, and graduation is flying towards me. I am honestly very shocked that I made it through high school. Many friends were lost throughout the four years - mostly to car crashes, but also to suicide and even just to separate ideals. I did not suspect freshman year that I would be among the survivors walking across the stage in ugly purple gowns and those funny hats. Looking back on my high school experience, I am very glad it was a typical one: I was goth, joined drama club. I was a memberof the marching band, became terribly addicted to Mountain Dew, and joined just about every club in the school plus AP and dual credit classes. I stressed over finals and relationships to the point of pulling out my hair - to the brink of life, even. I went to school with all of those stereotypes you ought to have known. I lived, I loved, I felt awkward sexual tensions and lost friends. I nearly ended my own life. And yes, my art teacher wore lots of sweater vests. I am very happy, looking back on my high school, the sweater vests, my band director's crazy tie collection. Even seeing my band director cheering from the football stands in my head as I took the ACT. I think to skipping class in the Latin room and insisting to my Latin teacher & her current class that we were bffs. And I am very happy I experienced all I did and learned so much from it. Thank you, HCHS Class of 2010! Ugly ties rule the world and having prom in the school's gym actually does count as a prom. And thank you anyone at the high school who tried to be nice to me. I may not be exceptionally articulate about things, but I do see it when you try to help me, and do what is right, even if it is only right by you. Sometimes these things were the only things giving me faith in humanity. But I could not tell you this. It was not your struggle, it was not your experience. Thank you, my friends, for saving my life. The Class of 2010, you are the world now. I know we will succeed. I already have. And for this, I thank you.

I talked to my friend today. The aforementioned suicidal one. We walked around the park, sat in a coffee shop... We have been texting about these thoughts and all... But today we really talked. It felt like a suicide support group. An unregulated one in which we laughed about our suicidal thoughts. We laughed about things that probably should not have been funny... Support group sounds so preposterous... But I felt better after we hung out. And I really hope he did. I am a lot less worried about him. I am just hoping now that things will be okay.

I gave my friend who is a little messed up a journal. I have been close to suicide before and my diary has saved my life. I suspected that he was in the same boat and I have unfortunately discovered I am correct. He said the journal has kept him alive. He told me that he is trying to get better. He allotted himself 120 pages to get better. 120 pages. Then if he is not better, he says, he will have gone over the edge. My friend's life will end in 120 pages. Suicide is a big deal. I am scared as hell for my own life. And now I am even more scared for his life. He is one of those people who can really change things. And I don't even just care because of that. We aren't even that close. But I care about him. He is so cool and so neat... His personality has so much worth knowing... And 120 pages is so small... He is going to end his life in that time. I can't let this happen. But I can't stop it. And what if our brains are right? I need to save him. But how do I save him if I can't save myself?

Just realized that I forgot to blog about gay prom. So when I get on the computer next, this will be about the school and my last blog will be about gay prom. coolio. i hope no one looks at this beforehand.

My boyfriend got kicked out of school today. He only needs three credits to graduate. Now he has to go to the alternative school and cannot walk with us at graduation. Worse, the teacher who suggested it lied. He wrote that he had done parent-teacher conferences. This is impossible as Jordan has no legal guardian, lives alone, and his mom is dead and his father left and has no permanent address and may be incarcerated. The degree from the academy is a lesser degree on which it is difficult to get into college. They are ruining his life over a couple low grades. The school also has a computerized credit recovery program for which they are saying he is not eligible. However this particular situation is exactly the purpose of the credit recovery program. Jordan has no parents to fight this thing and we don't know how to get around it. I am going to talk to the administration about it, but unless I can plead the case, his life and his highschool experience is ruined.

That's kinda how it is...

One of the tragedies of my life is that I will kill myself eventually.

I do not want to kill myself, but one night when I am alone with a knife and a mixed episode I will.

The odds were never good - child of divorce, low income family, bipolar disorder... Plus I guess I count as lgbt and the odds go up a little there too... Plus my aunt planned her suicide a while back and I am behaving more and more like my skitzophrenic uncle every day.
Suicide seems inevitable with the circumstances and I always back out of asking for help. Help wouldn't be that helpful anyway.

Tragedy is acceptable in Drama. My life might be dramatic enough to play it off.
It is not a good thing for a seventeen year old to have accepted her end is near. But there is little else to be done now but to live and to hope not to die.