I�m in that tricky spot, that one that leaves me with shaky hands. And I can�t really talk to anyone about it.

TL will be too supportive, like all of my fuck ups have no consequences. Or he�ll think I�m exaggerating because he believes I�m wonderful, or he�ll do something totally crazy, like ask, �Why?� Why! Please. People like me don�t get into these situations because they know the why�s of things.

Then there�s my mother who I repeatedly devastate. My father who would either become furious or ask why the fuck I�m even talking to him about this. My friends who wouldn�t understand. My cousin would understand, if I could explain. But I can�t, so Diaryland wins.

I�m failing out of school. Again. AGAIN. I can�t stress �again� enough. We need to be clear that �again� is not like, the second time. In fact, a more accurate statement might be, �I fail out of school again and again and again.� Or �I repeatedly fail out of school.� �If failing out of school were a subject of study, I would have my doctorate.�

This fall will make 6 years that I�ve been going to college. Six. Years. That�s a lot of years. A lot of years to have nothing to show for it. Well, not entirely nothing, I did finally get my Certificate in Legal Studies. Can�t even tell you how hilarious that is, since I�ve been a paralegal for 8 years. But yes, I finally got a certificate. And, I am 5 courses away from my Associate, including the courses I�m taking this summer.

I try not to think about the fact that I should have had my Bachelor�s two years ago. I try not to think that I was supposed to stay in New York and just be normal and do things that normal 18-22 year olds do. I try not to think about all that, because there�s nothing I can do about it. I can�t get back that time. I can�t magically not be a 24 year old without a college education. But I am getting close to some kind of achievement, at least. I�m so close, and I�m fucking it up again. What on earth? What is it that compels me to fail?

I�ve almost run out of theories. My second semester of college, in 2008, is where it started. I just eventually stopped going to all my classes, and I tried to make sense of it. Too much drinking, too much obsessing about boys down the hall, too much depression. Too much being nocturnal, staying up late writing about the trials of being 18 and confused.

I tried harder the next semester. For awhile, anyway. And then it�s the same old, same old. Too much drinking, too much pot, too much obsessing about the boy in the next building, too much depression, too much being nocturnal and writing about the trials of being 19 and confused.

So I return to Connecticut, and my dad talks about how it�s better to be a big fish in a small pond. I think, �Maybe it is.� So I try my luck at community college, thinking it�s a starter school. I�ll get my act together and transfer somewhere spectacular when I�m ready. Needless to say, that didn�t quite pan out. Withdrew from all of my classes that first semester.

And ever since then it�s been a guessing game. I drink too much and fail out of school, so I stop drinking. I don�t drink and still fail, and I think maybe it�s because I have a slacker boyfriend. I dump slacker boyfriend and still fail, and I think maybe I�m taking too many classes. I take fewer classes and still fail. I take traditional classes, I take online classes, I take both at the same time. I have come up with all of these excuses that seem really logical at the time � even the mere fact that I simply do not want to be in college. I change the things I think are the problem and nothing ever truly fixes the situation.

I passed every course I took during Summer �12, Fall �12, Spring �13. And now I�m completely botching my summer courses. I�m taking two online � an Intro to Computers, and a Literature & Composition, both required for my Associate. The Intro to Computers I�ve hardly participated in, and I do not have a reason why. It�s just typical. You know, I procrastinate and then it�s 3 hours before it�s due and I say, �Wow, this is way more work than I expected. I can�t possibly finish this all. I may as well just do it tomorrow, since we have a 1 week grace period.� Except then I don�t do it the next day, and before I know it it�s three hours before the next week�s assignment is due � so I�m trying to do two week�s worth of work and I think, �Wow, this is way more work than I expected. I can�t possibly finish this all.� And I just go around and around like that, actually handing in completed assignments only occasionally.

Then my Lit class is just fine, except for my teacher who is an idiot. The woman makes typos in her comments on my work. Typos. My Literature & Composition teacher makes typos. Really bad, glaring, horrible typos, every single time. Spell-check perhaps? I�m just saying, maybe hire educators who use spell-check. Especially in Literature classes. Anyhow, everything was going well and fine, had to adjust to writing in MLA again since I haven�t turned in a paper since high school, and this is a fact. Now I�m used to legal writing and that makes for a world of confusion. But things were good, until we start talking about Billy Collins� �Introduction to Poetry�. Anyone who has had the pleasure (misfortune? Depends on the teacher) of having me in an English class quickly realizes my feelings on poetry. I think people absolutely butcher poetry with their incessant analyzation, especially in a classroom setting. Failure to sit around fabricating meanings and symbolism results in bad grades.

I expressed my opinion on the matter � much more diplomatically than I�ve just done, and I would say, more diplomatically than Billy Collins himself. Rather than saying students torture confessions out of poems, I merely said that I�ve always found it silly that we�re required to make up meanings, rather than just appreciating the poem for what it is, and what it makes us feel. This prompts my teacher to send me a slightly scathing email, essentially confirming that I am an asshole (paraphrasing). She is of the opinion that my comments were way out of line and inappropriate, and did not respond to the literature at hand. She thought my comments were offensive to all, and that if I don�t like this course that�s fine, but that�s not an excuse to be disrespectful. I should note that the prompt was, �What do you think of Billy Collins� poem? Do you agree that we spend too much time analyzing poetry? I sometimes worry that as a teacher I force you to reach for symbolism too much.� Apparently I was supposed to lie, and say, �Making stuff up is fantastic and not a waste of time. I very much enjoy reading people who can�t string a complete sentence together make up symbolism that doesn�t make a bit of sense.� Apparently, honestly answering the prompt just makes me cuntacular.

Anyway, /drama. A day or so after we had a paper due, and I had planned on writing it�..about goddamn Billy Collins. That was one of our options of paper topics, and I concluded that would be a bad idea. I do my best writing when I�m not making shit up, and pretending to think or feel things. I tried to write about one of the other topics, but it was getting late, and I decided I no longer gave a shit. Figured I would hand it in late. Still haven�t.

And so it begins. It�s a shortened course, so it ends next week. If I turn in my next paper I should pass at least.

But I am just so full of anxiety about this school situation. I just want it over with, because feeling like a failure is terribly depressing, and six years is a long time to feel like a failure. I�m just baffled that I�ve managed to fuck up again. I thought I was doing better.

So, as I said, I�m almost out of theories. There is one left that I�ve been thinking about for a year or two. I suspect that I have ADD. It would make a lot of sense, and does tend to run in my family. When I think back on my academic career, I�ve always had these problems, just to lesser degrees. As early as middle school, I�ve had issues with doing my work. Those issues increased in high school, and they dramatically increased in college. And admittedly, these issues do affect my work too � but with work at least, a fuck up affects more than just me, and that seems to be motivation enough so that even if I�m in the office till 9pm writing something, it gets done. Whatever the reason, I cannot force myself to do a lot of things. If left in a quiet room with no distractions, and only homework to do, I will stare at a wall and just think. There is some kind of control that I�m lacking, and I procrastinated seeing someone about getting tested. I wasn�t quite sure why, but my best guess is that this is the last theory I have. What if I don�t have ADD, and I still won�t know what�s wrong with me? I really don�t think I can take another 6 years of being a fuck up and not understanding why. I guess I�m just holding on to this one last excuse, because I don�t know what I�ll do without it.