I can't remember ever having been this tired or stressed before. Although I'd prepared myself for a very long, very taxing semester, I didn't expect it to be this exaggerated. I hate complaining, mostly because I think it's a waste of time . . . that if something's wrong, you should try to make every effort possible to fix it. But I can't seem to make an effort because I don't even have the room to breathe.
There's 67 days separating me from a degree. I know I'll make it, but I hate being this unhappy during the process. And that's what I've come to realize. How incredibly unhappy and robotic I've become. I've never felt as if I'm unable to control anything in my life before.
I think that's changed.
I'm ready to throw my hands up and walk away.