Wallowing in the depression that is senior year

The first 12 years of your school life abound with familiarity. If you discount the friend drama, parental groundings, or text breakups that may occasionally rain on your parade, you will see that most American teenagers’ public schooling careers are plateaus with generally small bumps along the road. Then you hit your last year, and after gearing yourself up to really feelsomething during college app season, you quickly fall into the pit that is senioritis. Or as I like to call it, senior sociopathy.

Most of us realize that this pit also serves as a bridge between your childhood and the best four years of your life leading up to adulthood. Any terrain beyond this ‘depression’ is uphill yet rewarding; no matter how tiring it is to squeeze out paid bills and long office hours and that meager number of successful meals, the view you get is amazing. The sunset, lake or mountains etc are your independence and uniquely forged life, all worth how exhausted you inevitably initially are.

But before you fight the good fight, life hands you a free ticket to dance about and/or act like a total dick in the context of your little pit. You’re leaving soon anyway–have some fun and not care for once, they let you say. No one is really looking into the pit to watch you be an idiot anyway.

Well, I’m speaking to you as a graduate of Westview HS now, and I am now out of the pit and yet again a functioning, empathetic member of society. But I’m not sure if everyone actually made it back out.

Believe me when I say: appreciate those non-depression years for what they are worth. Sure, you may be thinking I’m full of the stuff you eject from your system post-digestion, rolling your eyes as you slave away for the sake of acing your last 3-4 finals, but trust me- the majority of your classmates will never be as socially invested in you again as they are now. After first semester senior year, when people say they don’t care about anything, rest assured you most likely are part of that ‘anything’. People are slowly relegated into ‘interim friends’ to hang out with; if you enjoy forging legitimate, deep, meaningful bonds, up your standards and look a lot closer.

Before 2013 rolled around, I had no right to lecture anyone about anything related to senior sociopathy. Nevertheless, I saw quite a number of senior friends become senior fiends over the years, and this one was no exception. Everything is more genuine and real when you aren’t in the pit, when you can be aware of others’ emotions because you are unclouded by the lack of yours.

My plea is: skip class as many times as you want, but don’t alienate everyone you’re leaving for college. The pit still monitors the development of social skills- don’t let senioritis stunt your growth in this regard.


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