As I write this, it’s been 2 days since I took my physics final. Those were the worst 3 weeks ever. I was basically like a crazy cat. I would wake up around noon and sleep at 6 am, studying the words, definitions, meanings, and every word in the textbooks, hoping it would make sense.

I went so crazy about passing; I started seeing it in my dreams. I started dreaming about failing the exam. I felt like I was going to panic again and fail.

I don’t have any friends in my class, so that I couldn’t depend on anyone for help. So there I was—me and my textbook, flashcards, videos, and such, trying to understand it.

I was so busy studying that my body was breaking out in hives. I developed eczema a year ago, and it was my worst time in college. And I’ve noticed a pattern of flare-ups when I am at my highest level of stress. I get so stressed and rashy from thinking and grinding so hard.

I think in these two weeks I had the worst flare-up; not just where my eczema is, it’s worse, but all over my body. I would have flare-ups and, on the side, hives all over my hands and legs to the point that I swelled really badly.

The funniest, or maybe saddest, part was that one night when I was really having a bad reaction, my mother had texted me to see if I was still up. To which I was. We were both texting when I decided to text her a video of my flare-up, trying to have a haha moment of, “Look!” I’m working so hard I’m basically going wild! She responded by asking if I would come over to her room.

I did, and it was almost 1 am at this point, and she asked to see my arm, and I was, you know, kinda giving her a like haha! Isn’t this wild!

My mother didn’t find it very funny and started worrying that it wasn’t natural that my body has been basically flaring up/swelling for the past week. She was so stressed out she started putting on a bunch of lotions on me to see if anything worked.

I love my mommy so much. Like, truly, things like that make me appreciate her so much. I mean, I don’t know what I would do without her. Although she is hard on me about school, work, and all the stuff I’ve done wrong, I really do love her like tooth and nail; I would fight for her.

My mother was really worried, so she told me to stop studying and get some sleep, but I had to grind because I don’t know what I got on my midterm, so this final was my final grade to get something good! Anyways, my mother suggested I see a therapist to see why I break out in hives and flare up. Lovingly, I know why I break out in hives. I’m stressed. Haha.

I lay in bed with her until 2 in the morning and went back to studying. I grinded! I worked hard! I pushed through my sleep. I memorized about 80 flashcards, give or take. I studied the chapter books and did the exams to help me further. I really worked really hard.

Thursday, I finally was able to relax a little and think about my work a lil. I needed to improve and needed help in specific areas. I grinded that Thursday; I worked till my fingers could no longer write or type. I did it till I could memorize 95% of my vocab and meanings.

Then Friday came around, and I got even more nervous because I didn’t know what could be on the exam. What could I do to get a decent grade on my exam still still? I don’t know. I went to bed on Thursday night and didn’t wake up until 1 pm on Friday, full of stress and anxiety about what tomorrow’s class could bring me. I didn’t study my flashcards on Friday; instead, I focused on understanding the questions I was given.

I spent my Friday class not listening to my professor, but instead focusing on what to study. I sat there until almost midnight, studying. I had to get up the next day around 7 to make it to my 10 am class, but the nerves were slowly eating me up.

I went to bed and woke up the next morning at 7:30. Seeing the panic on my face about how I overslept, and that I was supposed to leave around 8, made me jump out of bed. I ate, packed my food, brushed my teeth, put on my uniform, and booked it out of my house and ran as fast as I could. I ran to the train and whew! Made it.

On my commute, I studied my flashcards, my notes, and the questions to understand better and hope I could do it.

I arrived at class early and sat down again, studying my notes and reviewing everything. As the clock ticked toward 10 am and students slowly began to come in, I felt like I was in The Hunger Games before the 10-second countdown started.

I had this conversation the night before with my mother and older sibling. I told them my professor announced that we were going to take our final the next day, and many pushed for him to give us an extra week.

Although my professor had already given us an extra week because we didn’t take the exam the week before, I still wanted to finish it.

So here it was. He passed the exam around, and the smile spread across my face. I KNEW THIS STUFF; I UNDERSTOOD THE QUESTIONS. That pen moved so fast; I moved so fast on that exam. I felt like I was on fire. I was getting all the work done. I was understanding. I was finally winning in life! I finished that exam so fast I got up and handed it in because I knew if I sat and reviewed, I would be done for.

I got up and walked up to him; his face looked kind of like a- what? Are you finished? Like an expression that made him look mad or something. I turned around and saw some people looking at me, but I didn’t care. At this point, whatever I get, I get. My hard work paid off.

However, it wasn’t the same for my other classmates. They took longer. And of course, I mean, I’m not a good test taker and such.  But like with the midterm, they did the same with the final, and they started to cheat. I felt like my hard work was for nothing because, while I worked hard and stressed out, they just turned around and whispered the answers they got off their phones to one another.

To my fellow readers, you might assume it’s an exaggeration, but we are a class of 22 students, and this isn’t the first time I’ve seen them cheat. It just bothers me that they get those easy 90s while I want to do it as earnestly and truthfully as possible.

My professor decided to grade the exams, and I thought he was going to hand them out quietly so no one would know one another’s grade, but then he stood up while some took their exams, and I saw. I looked and saw that he had an exam page, and there he stood about to make a right when he walked to my row and showed the people around me and me that I received a 100.

A 100? ARE YOU SERIOUS OMG LIKE I PRACTICALLY WANT TO JUMP IN GLEE. However, I did not like that he put a hit on me for getting that hundred. He could have shown it to me privately so the others wouldn’t get aggressive toward me or befriend me only for my grades. I want to leave the past behind, helping friends only because they want answers.

We are entering a healthcare career, and we should try to understand the material. And it stings even worse when those who cheated got 90s. My 100 doesn’t even matter because, although I worked hard for it, they didn’t and still got the closest grade to mine.

Anyways, I texted my mother and my older sibling about my grade. I mean, they saw me working super hard, so I had to share the good news.

Although my professor told me I was going to get a 2-month break to study for the SPI, he also just told us that we are heading to another lesson with him for 4 months.

I’d like to know where this is going. You know, like, maybe it’s going to be okay, you know. If I work as hard as I did right now, I can truly work my way to the top. I’m getting my grades this week, and I’m hoping that I get a good grade, at least a B. Hopefully my 100 for my final gave me a huge curve for the midterm. I mean, I really hope because then I feel foolish if I did all the work; I should’ve just cheated with my classmates.

I WISH that as grown people who are entering the healthcare field, and yes, we might not be working with needles, injecting, or something that could harm a patient, but understanding our machines and being able to read them is equally as important.

I’m just frustrated, and although my mother says to ignore them because those who work hard will always get rewarded, I sometimes feel that’s not true.

I wish I could tell my professor that I really worked hard, but I couldn’t do that either; I’d be a snitch. But hopefully my professor realizes and notices that I work hard, and it shows in my work.

I’ll update when I receive my final grade for physics!