Days like this

Kirstin Campbell

Five As. I couldn't believe it. I literally couldn't believe it. I'd chosen to get my results by email, but I thought -No. They've sent me the wrong email. It didn't matter that it had my name on it, my address. It didn't matter that my certificate said the same thing. I refused to believe it.

Then it dawned. It took nearly a whole day, but it dawned. I remember being on the phone with friends and relatives afterwards, and as they congratulated me I responded with a hollow enthusiasm. They were five small letters, but what they meant to me was huge, and it took a while for it to sink in. I had to sit down alone and tell myself how important these results were. I really had got five As. All that work, all that effort had paid off. I'd got what I wanted, but I had nearly killed myself in doing so.

It was hours before I could bring myself to look at my results, and I was so scared that I made my mum look first. She opened the email, then looked at me with disappointment written all over her face, and the best "We'll love you no matter what," expression she could muster. In that moment, I cannot describe the disappointment I felt, the overwhelming shame of letting everyone down, including myself: how could I face my friends, my teachers?

Then she smiled and at that moment I knew I'd done it. Time seemed to stop and I let out a breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding. I felt light-headed with sheer relief. It just felt over. Everything was done, never to be repeated. I had achieved my aim, but at what cost?

It all started at the end of fourth year, the "trouble": my personality almost split in two - the "normal me" at school", and the "other me" outside of school, where I became completely obsessive.

The me at school was fine: I was happy; I was popular; I did well at my work. Being at school was an escape, a coping mechanism for me. But I became obsessive. I had to do well, I had to get the best grades. With nine As at Intermediate 2, Bs were a foreign concept to me, never mind failing, which all the 6th years in my Higher classes seemed to have done. I think this scared me the most: having taken the huge step from Intermediate to Higher, it had become apparent how easy it was to fail it you didn't work. The teachers' scare-mongering tactics worked a little too well on me, and constant "securing your future" speeches got me more than a little worried. I took notes like there was no tomorrow, did my homework and then did some more for good measure.

Looking back now, it probably wasn't a perfectly maintained façade that I put on during school hours. I probably handed in my homework weeks too early, asked about deadlines, tests, when they were coming, if they could come a bit sooner, so that we'd be able to finish the course in time. There were the shattered nerves as well. When I was absorbed in work an elephant could sneak up on me and I wouldn't notice. Until I turned around, that is, and screamed. I did that a lot, so a couple of teachers most likely noticed something amiss.

Homework was the hardest part of fifth year. When I wasn't at school, it was like there was nothing to sustain me, help me keep going. I wouldn't do anything when I came home from school, but late at night, I'd jump to life, thoughts whirring round my mind, of the insurmountable load work that needed to be done. I didn't even recognise or consider the unhealthiness of this, I just felt the need to distract myself from what was in my head.

My brain wouldn't stop, it wouldn't shut up, these thoughts kept coming into my mind, all the time, stupid, paranoid thoughts, but they scared me, and I worked until one in the morning trying to stave them off.

Then it was nearly time for the exams, and I was still terrified - the teachers warnings still scared me, still played in my mind. I remained obsessive. I worked for hours on end. Three hours of studying, then I'd reward myself with a breath of fresh air from my bedroom window and throw myself back into my books. I couldn't watch TV - felt too guilty. If I took a break of thirty minutes to eat dinner, I did as much studying to make up for it.

So I worked, I obsessed, I had nightmares about sitting exams I hadn't studied for. And then the exams came. And then they finished.

A whole year for one week.

So, when I got my results, it's fair to say that I had mixed emotions -elation, disbelief, general incomprehension - running through my head. I had achieved the most important grades of my life so far, but at the same time, I couldn't help but think: was it really worth it? During that day, I would say that personally, I didn't think so - opened an email and that was it - a huge anticlimax to what I'd been building to for a whole year.

Yes, I'm glad I got good grades and I want to maintain them in the future, but what I realised on that fateful day, is that I can only live once. Getting my results that morning really changed my perspective on how I should my life, and now, I really want to live it to the full.