Senior Year Not Cake Walk

Kevin Fong, Editor-in-Chief

Stress is an awful thing. Of the many emotions that a human can feel, I believe stress is the worst. Stress is something unavoidable. In any sort of case stress will always be there. Stress haunts, lurking behind and following every move.

Finishing the first quarter of my senior year, stress is unfortunately something very familiar to me. The constant drag on the body and heart is an awful way to carry on, but I don’t see an end to it for awhile.

Some think that senior year is a cake walk. Stride on up to the booth and receive a nicely frosted cake.

It isn’t.

Everything comes down to this. All the work put in over the last few years is topped off with how I do this year. I can’t end my high school career with something less than I started with. Thus, pressure is created,  from myself, from teachers, and from my parents, all expecting the best from me. The weight pushes down almost to the point of being crushed.

There’s a standard that’s been set, and I have to do everything in my power to reach it. Instead of being able to go out and enjoying being with friends, I fret over whether the newspaper will be sent out in time.

There isn’t a moment when I can relax. Instead, each time I get close to taking a deep breath I suddenly clench over some malady that will cause me harm.

I can’t look at the date without fretting about college applications.

As I watch the days pass I am stricken by grief and what will become of me. Each time the little number on my clock goes up I take one step closer to sending off an application to the rest of my life.

College is not a small feat. It never really hit me that I would be leaving until I was driving my friend home.

He just came back from visiting a college down in Southern California, and we were discussing the excursion. We were talking about the dorm rooms and dining halls when it finally struck me: I’m leaving. Although, that is only if I get my apps out in time.

This fear of the future, change, and the unknown is the cause of more stress, adding on to the already heavy plate of expectations.

An application for college is so much more than just a piece of paper or a online survey. It is the ticket to the rest of my life. An application is trying to sum me up into one little document. I’m trying to sum myself up into words and numbers in hope that someone will get who I am.

It’s hard to describe myself in 500 words or less. With each personal statement and essay I toil over whether it describes me accurately. I have to distinguish myself from thousands of other applicants.
I have to do this to know what my future will be.

Is my fate really in my own hands? Even if I compile the best application, it doesn’t necessarily mean that I’ll be accepted. My future does not entirely rest within my hands, but in others. With this heinous pressure upon me, I try to escape. I try to forget about the looming deadlines and borderline grades.

Instead of dealing with the problem I run away. I wander through Facebook or am mesmerized by Netflix. But even with these distractions I have the empty sadness that I will have to deal with my problems eventually.

I want to push them back; I want to delay them, but even as hard as I try they persist. Then I must face the reality that things don’t just disappear.

If I want the pressure off of me, I’ll have to slowly chip away at it until nothings left. But I think I’ll wait to buy the pick and hammer tomorrow.