This is not just dramatics..

I think I'm feeling the equivalent of a mid-life crisis. Firstly, let's explain what a mid-life crisis is. It's when you suddenly realize that you have not much time to live ie you suddenly look at the calendar and go 'oh no! It's the year 2011 and I'm already 60!!' or something like that. You realize that you are running out of time. What have you actually been doing the last 20-30 years?!! Was there, really, anything meaningful? Then you realise, 'no!! All I've been doing, I can't remember much, but that's because it's always been meaningless'. So you panick. Where have all my dreams gone? Oh no! I don't have enough time to do all, and prepare myself before the unpleasant outcome of dying.
So, why do I say I have that equivalent, when I'm only 16? (yes, I'm merely a petulant teen) well, replace 'dying' with 'promos', 'working' with 'playing the day frivolously away', 'looking at the calendar' with 'looking at the clock and then the calendar, then the exam schedule', and 'where have all my dreams gone' with 'where have all my carefully hatched study plans and goals gone'; you'll just see the similarity. Only, the sudden realization that hits one in the gut like a sucker punch to a ninny stays unpleasantly the same. Life doesn't seem to ever give one a break, does it?
I can safely say I'm not the only teen who thinks like that. Just yesterday, I heard a girl crying in the school library's toilet, with 2 teachers standing outside worriedly. Apparently, she's broken down, maybe after being hit by that same realization. Can't say I sympathize though. I'm much too drained. In fact, I think I may be mildly (only mildly, so its really not a big deal) depressed. I found a pamphlet on depression in the taxi, and guess what. I actually display most of the depression symptoms! Lethargy, apathy, alternating sadness and anger, loss of energy.. Well, you get the picture. Actually, I don't think you do, but I don't care. Yes, I wonder too. If I'm so lethargic and apathetic, why do I bother writing here? Well, I had the urge to spill my guts (not literally, no, that would never happen) so I did. It feels sorta therapeutic. Maybe I needed to see a counsellor, but not talk. No. My way of communicating is through black and white, hard copy. Verbally, I could never truly express what I really feel. I could only spout pretty words of comfort, of reassurance, of praise. All are lies. Really, it's a habit. My throat clenches if I try to say an ugly word, even if it's true. Is that a good or bad thing? I have more to say, but I don't wanna waste time. I need to finish my physics revision by this evening, 520pm. Tatta!