Sarah Pearson, 12, explains her relationship with School.

I’m currently in a relationship with High School. We’ve been together now for four long years, but our relationship is kind of the rocks as of late. I mean, all couples go through rough patches. It’s totally normal. Conflict makes a relationship stronger. Or at least that’s what people tell me. The problem is, School doesn’t seem to want to change and despite the fact that I am more than willing to, I’m being asked to change a little too much. If I care at all about School, I’ll compromise, change and sacrifice certain things in my life. But School seems to not want to do the same. A relationship is a give and take agreement, but I’ve been giving far too much for such an extended period of time that I’m starting to get tired. This isn’t senioritis. This is overwhelming stress.

School wants to see me improve, and I have improved and I’m so thankful. I’m all for challenging myself. I’ve been doing it for years, but the increase of near-impossible expectations takes a toll on my psyche. Talking to my friends, they tell horror stories of how they spend every waking hour studying, doing homework and finishing projects but still express their stress about it not being enough. They’re busy, frazzled and nervous about their teetering grades, trying their best to not have a breakdown. I feel bad for them until I remember I’m in the same predicament.

School likes our relationship to be exclusive. He’s rather jealous and doesn’t really want me to hang out with my friends or spend any time on my hobbies. He wants me to cancel my Netflix subscription because he says I won’t be using it as long as I’m in a committed relationship with him. He wants to be the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about before I go to sleep. It’s romantic, really. I wonder if he thinks about me too.

My increasing workload this year has caused me immense stress. Sometimes I have bad days. Sometimes they’re really bad. Sometimes they’re insufferable. School doesn’t like to talk about it though. He doesn’t really understand, so I don’t say much about it. I don’t want to upset him or embarrass myself. On top of all my work, I have to make sure to bury my mental struggles so I can be who School wants me to be. He doesn’t want me around him when I have the flu because he says he could catch it, but he says he can’t catch anxiety since it’s all in my head, so he insists I stay with him all day. I can’t argue with him because he’s right. It is in my head. And maybe that’s the problem. Since he can’t see it, he doesn’t believe me. He must think I’m lazy. And it’s his job to be honest, so I know he’s right. Regardless, I wanted some time to get better, whether he understood or not. So I said I wanted a break. He said no. I said OK.

Maybe it’s my fault. It has to be. I knew what I was getting myself into when I decided to take accelerated classes and extracurriculars. He makes a point to remind me of that, and I’m glad he does. That way, I don’t blame him for my own mistakes. I work so hard to show School that I can do it, that I can be successful. He doesn’t think I should settle for Bs, so he tells me I could have tried harder if I hadn’t been so selfish with my time. So I try harder. And harder. But it seems like he always has something to say about how much work I refuse to put into our relationship. I’m trying my absolute best, but he doesn’t really think I am. He doesn’t seem to care about the stress he causes me, but it’s not his fault. He’s just trying to help me.

School took the time to teach me that my best can be better, to stop being so dramatic, that all work comes before mental health and to not work the system by using the excuse of “anxiety” to get a couple of days off. He’s smarter than me so I have to take his word, but something about his system isn’t working. If a majority of people my age would have been admitted to an asylum had we been living in 1950, something isn’t right. Time changes people, and we have too. The honeymoon period is over and our relationship isn’t what it was. He demands instead of asks, he’s too rigid, he refuses to believe in the reality of mental health and he’s ready to break up with me if I don’t meet all of his standards. Needless to say, we’ve agreed to end our relationship in June.

School is not a bad guy — his system is. His set of rules and expectations. School’s heart is in the right place but his system prevents him from fully understanding the strain he puts on me. School is always there for me but his constant presence causes me anxiety. He wants me to be the best person I can be but only if I sacrifice everything that is not him. He pushes me to be better but he doesn’t really care about the persistent pressure he puts on my mind. But I do it all because he tells me to and I’ve come to realize through him that mental health is disposable when it comes to success. Oh, what I do for love.