And The Second Year Ends

That’s right, friends.  The time has come.  That six-month black hole of blogging is about to be filled.

This will not be a fun post.

So, the point where I went off digi-grid was in the Christmas holiday.  I has tests to revise for and an essay that drove me bonkers in the attempt to finish it in time.  No January exams this time, but it was far from a relaxed break.

The next term was much the same as the previous one, full of frustrations and poor organisation, pointless and time-consuming meeting with my Personal Tutor, and much more besides.  It’s not really interesting enough to blog about, especially given that I’m not in the mood to try and make it more entertaining than it is, so I’m not going to.  I spent much of the time angry, anxious, despairing, made all the worse because it was caused by others and could have easily been avoided if they’d just put a bit of thought into what they’re doing.

Then we had the Easter *break*, in which there were five sets of coursework and some lab work to finish, as well as revision for the exams coming afterwards.  I didn’t get to a single tutorial through the year – and my Personal Tutor’s opinion fluctuated wildly from week to week, from “well, if they’ll make you so anxious you won’t learn anything anyway, it’s not worth it” to “it’s really vital that you go, or else you’ll be screwed forever” – because of the anxiety, but I didn’t fail despite that fact, which I guess I should be pleased about.

And then there were the exams.  Cue dramatic music.

I can’t say I handled them well.  I sort of shrivelled.  Hallucinations were part and parcel of my exam experience, because I’d lost so much sleep, and I was pacing up and down in my room for up to 14 hours a day.

I did get through them, but in so doing, I became the neediest human being ever to walk the Earth.  Not something I’m proud of, but at least I did the exams and didn’t splat at the last minute.

And then, of course, when the exams finished (and, for some, while exams were still going on), we had a third-year lab module to finish off the year, because presumably the third year isn’t long enough to fit in all the material, so part of the second year has to give way to allow for it.  I was doing computational chemistry, so I didn’t have long hours in the lab like most, instead spending much of my time sitting in front of a computer, battling with UNIX – and my own stupidity.

Little did I know that computational chemistry was such a social module.  There was very little actual time available to do this module, but they wanted us to fit in a set of individual questions, plus group work (research project) and a presentation.  So, erm, that went well.

I didn’t do the presentation, I was utterly useless at the “group” part of the group work, and for such a short space of time actually spent doing the damn stuff, I was in a ridiculously bad headspace.  That coincided with my latest injection failure, which didn’t surprise me massively; exams were bad, but this was worse by far.  Anxiety shat all over this module, but it actually did help in a weird and twisted way, as it provided enough motivation for me to finally get some Proper Help.

(Except, of course, I spent all year chasing people and doing Massively Uncomfortable Things in order to set up this support system and therapy and medication and all-round progress stuff, which is probably going to end up null and void because to get those things – at least without having to start the process all over again, thus delaying actual help for another year or so – I need to be in the right area to receive said help.)

And now I’ve moved out of Halls, I’m back home, doing very little and resenting very much, needing to sort out more Things than my brain has space for.

This was a Public Pessimistic Announcement.  Coming up next: an in-depth description of my sadly-entertaining experience of the adult mental health services.  As always, run and hide while you still can.

About JC

I'm a no-longer-nameless trans asexual autistic, chemistry undergraduate at a London university, pronoun enthusiast, amateur photographer and budding proofreader. Son of Optimus. Join me and be amazed. Or just join me. The sense of awe and wonder is optional.
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2 Responses to And The Second Year Ends

  1. doubleinvert says:

    I get the feeling I would collapse completely under the strain of what you endure. In those moments when you doubt yourself, remember that I find you to be an inspiration.

    Be good to yourself, Mr. Prime.


    • JC Prime says:

      As always, Connie, you know exactly what the Right Words are. I’ve missed you, and you’re an inspiration to me as well.

      And thank you – I wish I could handle things better, or at least handle more without my brain melting on me, but it’s not beaten me yet!


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