I cannot describe the relief at being able to say that. My whole school career is now over, and my future is in the hands of the examiners. I still don’t think it has fully sunk in yet that I’m not going back. The thought that I will never have another lesson with my teachers, or another school lunch with my friends is still so strange to me. I have been at the same school since I was four years old, it’s where I grew up, so knowing I won’t be walking through those doors again to start the new year is a bit scary. But at least exams are over! They were a rollercoaster to say the least…
Due to the subjects I took, my exams spanned the whole exam period, from the very first exam day, to the very last, so they were pretty spaced out which was good and bad. Finding the motivation to continuously revise over that long period was challenging, but at least I had more time to prepare. Coming out of my first few exams, I was pleased with how I did and the topics that came up. I managed to keep my head and finish in enough time which I can sometimes struggle with, so this gave me a boost to keep going. I was feeling good. But then my first further maths paper came up, and I went BLANK. The utter helplessness and desperation that I felt in that exam hall was something I have never experienced before and never want to again. Constantly flicking back and forth through my paper, just praying that some answers would click and I could do some of the question. The silence around me just amplified the panic in my head, screaming at me to remember something, anything. I glanced around at the invigilators as if they could help me in some way, but I was on my own, and time was running out. When we got out of the hall I just burst into floods of tears, my classmates trying to console me (a word of advice, if you are looking for emotional support, don’t ask anyone from a further maths class, they aren’t the most emotionally attuned).
I tried to rationalise my performance later that day, after I managed to stop crying. Reminding myself I still did quite a bit of the paper, and I still had three more exams left, but I was still left feeling pretty low. Luckily the rest of the exam period was less dramatic and a lot fewer tears were shed.
The weekend after my last exam was extremely full on to say the least; clubbing in Manchester for the first time was an experience, and of course we had to visit LEVEL in Bolton (a regular for my school)! Whilst I feel a weight off my shoulders now that my exams are over, there is still a constant ache in my stomach at the not knowing how I have done. During this long break, the memory of that bad exam will just pop into my head every now and then, tormenting me. It reminds me that I don’t know what’s going to happen, or whether I will get to go to Oxford or not.
Whenever I express these concerns to others, I am usually met with the response “I’m sure you smashed it!” or “You’re clever, you’ll definitely be going!”. I find this irritating for two reasons; firstly, I was the person in that exam so only I know how it went, therefore unless you are some omniscient being and I am just unaware of this, how could you possibly know that ‘I’ll be fine’! Secondly, it adds another layer of expectation. The fact that people just presume that I will have done well, when in fact I am human, and might have just had a bad day! Forbid! I already put enough pressure on myself to do well; I definitely don’t need it from everyone else around me.
Enough ranting from me though, I know people only mean well (even if it does wind me up). Luckily after exams, I had my girls’ holiday to Malaga to take my mind off my imminent doom (not to be dramatic). It is amazing what a high UV quality time with your friends, and heavy (responsible) drinking will do for you! Would recommend! I would also recommend anyone going on a girls’ holiday to Malaga to go to the karaoke bars, as you’ll probably be able to adopt a group of Swedish boys to party with.
Anyway, let the long summer continue… results pending…