Life After High School

Through a blogging group, I came across this post about the author’s expectations of life after high school when she was still in school. I wrote an elaborate comment but, when I saw the author was actually writing from a prompt, I thought I’d do the same. I’ve shared some of this before, but repetition can be therapeutic, or something.

I went to my city’s grammar school. For Americans: I don’t know if such a thing exists in the U.S., but it is an academically high-level secondary school with a strong focus on ancient Greek and Roman heritage. By the time I was twelve and visiting it for the first time, I was already echoing the benefits of a grammar school to a regular high school from my parents. Not that either of my parents had attended grammar school – my paternal grandfather was the only family member I know who had. I was already echoing the fact that I’d go to university at age nine, so yeah. Not that any of my family members had a graduate degree, but well.

I was terribly ambitious for the first two years of grammar school. By my third year, I fell into something pretty close to depression and didn’t bother with my schoolwork. My fourth, fifth and sixth years were okay. As I’ve said before, I dreamt of going to university to major in American studies and go to the United States for a year (and never return, because obviously I’d easily get a Green Card…yeah, right).

Other than that I’d excel academically, I didn’t have any real expectations for college or of life on my own. I read a fictional book in my third year of grammar school about a blind man who went to college and lived on the eighteenth floor of a student accommodation. I was a wannabe fiction writer at the time and attempted my own version of the eighteenth-floor book. In it, the female main character was as depressed as I was at the time. The only difference between her and me was that she drowned her sorrows in alcohol while I used food. Student life was lonely, depressing and confusing.

And that’s exaclty how it turned out, except for the alcohol. I lived on my own for exactly three months and then I crashed. I had to be hospitalized with what was then called an adjustment disorder – an inadequate, disabling reaction to stress. Seven years later, I still reside in a psychiatric institution, now with several mental health and developmental disability diagnoses.

Sometimes, but that was mostly during late elementarys chool, the thought of institutionalization crossed my mind. I am blind and was attending a school for the visually impaired. The school psychologist recommended I become a residential student there when I was in fifth grade, and my parents fought tooth and nail to keep me home. By the time I was eleven, I knew I had to avoid instittutions like the plague. Ten years later I checked myself into one.

Mama’s Losin’ It


3 thoughts on “Life After High School

  1. Found your blog from the SITS link up. Just wanted to say that it took a lot of courage for you to check yourself into an institution. I hope it’s helping and you’re happy. That’s what matters – that we’re happy in our lives, even if they do turn out different than we thought they would.


  2. I can really relate to that anxiety and stress that school and the real world brings to the table. It can definitely feel like it’s too much and I’m so glad you realized there is nothing wrong with checking into an institution, they’re there to help!


  3. I went to school in a school for the blind too. I was a residential student there. It was horrific. I’m sorry your schooling didnt turn out the way you wanted it to. Life has a funny way of just happening doesnt it? XX


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