Its reached that point of the semester. The dreaded hell week.

You've spent the semester telling yourself that you have a handle on this. You've been telling yourself continuously that

When, really, this is actually you.

So now it's hit you. You actually don't have a handle on any of it.

So you break out your notes and then realize

You head to the library thinking that maybe the knowledge will suddenly hit you and absorb into you in a more academic setting.

But when you get there, you realize you're still as lost as you were before.

But you're determined to study. So you start to do just that when people start laughing and talking and just being all around distracting and annoying.

You're actually trying to do work and no one will SHUT UP.

But then they leave and now it's time for some serious business.

Over the next few days, you lose sleep.

You forget how to do the most basic things such as eating.

You have an existential crisis.

Or two.

Or twelve.

But you continue to tell yourself (and everyone around you that questions your sanity) that you're fine.

Your friends try to pull you away, telling you that you really just need a night out. But there's just TOO MUCH ON THE LINE HERE.

After days of crying

And sudden realizations of I CAN'T DO THIS

It's time. And you're not ready but you know you have to be.

And so you do it. But you're not feeling confident. At all.

But when you get your grades back, you find out that you passed. Not only that but you actually did really well.

And so you say goodbye to another semester.

Until next time.