I remember in 7th grade when I first heard of the term, “death March,” used to describe this month that is now drawing to a close. My Language Arts teacher mentioned it once when the month was approaching during the school year, and at first, I didn’t get why it bore that title. Then she went on to remind us how during that month of the school year we would never have any days off of school, and thus, going to school every week for the 31 days apparently became something of a struggle. You know, because the 7th grade life is such a struggle.
But death March is no longer an appropriate name for it. Usually our semester schedules the year so that we have our spring break during some week in March. So now, the march is eventually disrupted for one whole week.
Nevertheless, March still continues to have the connotation that it used to have, for some reason. This month in the past always seemed to be the busiest, the one during which usually I’d lose the most steam. I feel that this lives on in college, even though it has been my own spring break this entire week. It’s Thursday, and tomorrow is my last day of break officially. Even though I have the weekend technically, it still feels like there was too little time. Beginning tomorrow, trickles of students will begin to flock back onto college hill, and I’m not sure if I’m ready again to face them. This has transformed into an issue of stress, and I find this peculiar. I know that my anxiety is playing a role in all of this but I didn’t think that it could have such a dramatic and imposing effect, even now.
So now I wonder how April is going to evolve for me. Essentially I have school for the entire month—death April, so to say. I cannot describe to you how stressed I am of my being here. Of my continuing to fight against such a disparaging and conflicting internal self.
I get more and more tired everyday. I know sleep isn’t a cure. I know that I am teetering sometimes. But the cherry-on-the-top is knowing that I have to “suck it up”and just continue to study and continue to force myself to do work in order to at least divert my attention elsewhere for even a short period. In the end it doesn’t help. Studying and school work just grows more repulsive and I have to force myself a little harder each time in order to do it. This shouldn’t be the way to live, and this shouldn’t be a college experience. I don’t know, I think it’s just something with me, personally. I’m pretty sure no one else understands what this feels like, and I am aware that that is a strong statement to say.