High School Is Just… Tiring, Honestly | by Sree Palakurthi | Nov, 2025

People love to say high school is the “best years of your life.” They imagine Friday night lights, carefree laughter in the hallways, and endless fun. But the reality is far more complicated. For many of us, high school isn’t a dream — it’s a test of endurance.

Take my life, for example. On paper, it looks full: tennis practice before sunrise, biking sessions that push my legs to their limit, late nights tinkering with my drone project, and of course, the endless stream of assignments and exams. It sounds impressive, maybe even exciting. But living it is exhausting.

Tennis isn’t just a sport; it’s hours of drills, sweat, and the mental pressure of competition. Biking gives me freedom, but it also leaves me drained, muscles burning as I push through miles when I’d rather collapse. My drone project is a passion, but passion doesn’t erase the frustration of trial and error, the nights spent debugging code or fixing designs that refuse to cooperate.

And then there’s the part no one sees: the spinal injury I carry quietly. I don’t talk about it much. I’ve learned to hide the pain, to adjust my backpack so it doesn’t dig in, to smile when my back aches during practice. Because in high school, showing weakness feels dangerous. People don’t always support you when you go above and beyond — sometimes they try to pull you down.

That’s the paradox of high school life. You’re told to excel, to stand out, to chase every opportunity. But when you do, the weight of expectations and the whispers of others can make you feel like you’re drowning.

Still, I keep pushing. Not because it’s easy, but because stopping would mean letting the exhaustion win. Every serve on the tennis court, every mile on the bike, every drone flight that finally takes off — they remind me that persistence matters.

High school isn’t the glossy montage people imagine. It’s messy, painful, and relentless. But it’s also proof that we’re stronger than we think.

And if you’re reading this, I want you to know something: keep pushing. Whatever your version of exhaustion looks like — whether it’s sports, projects, hidden struggles, or just the weight of expectations — don’t let it break you. You’re stronger than the whispers, stronger than the setbacks, stronger than the pain.

Because even when it feels impossible, you’re still here. And that matters.