Diary Entry 15 October 2020
I think it’s really annoying when a teacher randomly picks a student to answer a question. Do you know what I mean? Ye probably experienced that yourselves. When you sit in English class and everyone gets picked at some point to read a passage. You don’t know when who will get picked and with every line, with every second you get more and more nervous. Then you try to read ahead, so you know how to pronounce the words. You wait and wait, shiver and shiver, hope and hope that your name won’t be said. Then you forget how to read or you forget what you were meant to learn off by heart. And then you get asked and you somehow remember everything but you are so nervous that you don’t know what you just said. Yeah, that’s what happens to me and to many others. I hate when teachers do that, I don’t understand why they don’t remember their own childhood, to know that everyone hates it.
At home I learn what I have to learn. I am normally quite good at learning off by heart, and I can manage it, but in school I am so nervous that I need a few seconds to be able to read the next word. We always get picked, one after the other, to call out the quotes that we were meant to learn the evening before. I am the last person in the last row. With every person that gets asked, I get more nervous. I repeat the quotes again and again in my head, but when it’s my turn, my heart pounds so hard that I can really feel it pulsing inside of me. I can’t hear my own voice, because my heartbeat is so loud in my ears. The order of the sentences is mixed up in my head, but at the very last moment, when it comes out of my mouth, I am able to say the right thing, even if I looked at the sheet again quickly when it was the second-last persons turn, just to know what I really have to say next. For the exams we don’t have to say it aloud, just write it and in that case, I know it easily.
While reading ‘Romeo and Juliet’, I usually get picked as well. I always already know I will be picked and then I am totally nervous as well. I read ahead a little, but not too much, so that I still know where we are. When I have to read, to me it seems like I am reading really fast but somehow really slow. I don’t know. The only thing I know is, I don’t remember any of the story and I somehow can’t properly see the words, because I am so nervous and everything jumbles up. Then, after I have read a few words, it takes a few seconds before I can continue reading because it doesn’t come out of my mouth properly. In the end, I always somehow manage it, but it’s still stupid.
It put me in a bad mood yesterday and, to make things worse, dad also pulled open the curtains and the windows, because the Gas-Fire didn’t turn on and then it stinks very badly. We live in the centre of the town, so EVERYONE could look inside, including the people in my class. It’s not that I knew they were there, but it could’ve been very likely. Dad told me to hold the torch, so he could look inside the stove. The stove was right in front of the open window, so I slowly walked over to him and asked, before I took the torch, if I could close the curtains again. The answer was just: “No, hold this now”. No, I didn’t want anyone to see me. I was in pyjamas, at home and everyone could see what our house looked like from the inside, – with all the holy statues from our great-grandmother. I am not saying I have anything against those things, but it’s not necessary for anyone to see these things are in our house. I made it clear to him I didn’t want to hold the torch when the window is open. He just said: “Who wants to look in here, no-one will look in here”, in an unfriendly, dominating and pushy tone. What can’t you understand about me having a shitty class and me NOT wanting to be seen by them? “Just hold it”, so I held it, but I went far enough away until I wasn’t standing in front of the window anymore. After a while he pulled it out of my hands and I stormed upstairs and locked my door. It’s so stupid when something like this happens after such a school day, and your own father doesn’t have/show any understanding for it at all.
Well, later on in the evening, I wanted to tell mom about this, just like I want to tell her many things, but she says goodnight so quickly and talks about something else and simply leaves the room, so I don’t even get the chance to think about how I should say it. This happened often in the past few weeks and I cried a lot afterwards, when I was alone in my room – at night. Yesterday I didn’t give myself one free second to start crying. I put on Byron Katie’s CD right away and just tried to think of the present moment. And when I did, everything else was forgotten, because in this moment there is no pain, no worry or sadness and therefore I noticed, that it wasn’t terrible not to have told mom, even if it hurts to keep everything to yourself, but it’s over now. The pain is over, because only the ‘now’ exists. I am excited about having a partner one day, whom I can talk to about everything, who understands me, is there for me, whom I can hug and be happy with in the present moment. The anticipation for it feels as though I already had a boyfriend who just isn’t in my life on a daily basis. Soon Leona, soon.
I love ye. I thank you for reading from the bottom of my heart. Until the next experience, yours, Leona McDonagh! 🙂
