Alrighty! Storytime! The actual situation requires some buildup though. I've never been a particularly studious person lets just get that clear. So here in Australia, there are comprehensive public high schools, private schools, and selective high schools. To get into a selective highschool, you need to take the selective test and get a good enough mark to qualify for it. My parents put me through pretty much daily tutoring and gave me mass workloads to prepare for it and somehow i managed to get into the ranked second h.s in the country. My parents were super happy and let me quit all my tutoring and I suddenly found myself with so much free time. So i began a pretty serious addiction to doing anything OTHER than work related things. I managed to devise a system of jigging so that I could get out of giving in assignments and homework, sometimes when i just needed to get out of a lesson I'd just go sit on the school roof and wait it out. I ended up really addicted to the freedom of not having to do work and I would do anything to not go back to the previous life i had. I built up lies to my parents, who believed i was a top A-range kid when in reality i was hovering at bottom of our cohort in everything. I became super paranoid and anxious that my parents would find out. They're really lovely people super trusting in others and i took advantage of it to build up this image of myself as the start student. I could have just settl. By my third year, i had developed some sort of pretty intense anxiety and depression and was regularly cutting and burning myself. I was even more paranoid that my parents would find out about my self harm and even went as far as disguising the cuts as stretch marks on my hips and stomach. I had a really bad habit of skipping meals, sleep and showers. My dad has this massive massive alcohol collection so i started a little bit of drinking (Keep in mind I was around 14-15 years old). Anyways, one time i was in a really bad state of mind and accidentally bled a lot. Enough to pass out and have my parents find me, freak the fuck out and send me to hospital. The few hours after waking up in the ER were the worst of my life. I'll never want to go through the pain of having to explain everything to my parents and watch them breaking apart inside, blaming themselves for everything that had happened to me.

I'm miles and miles better now than I was back then but my relationship with my parents will never return to what it once was. I don't think back on that time much but in a way I'm kind of glad it happened. It's made me much stronger and much more independent as a person, even if it was a terrible way to learn the things i did.