Year 2 - Semester 1

After the first week of the first semester (the semester in which our results start to mean something) I realised I wasn't going to enjoy two of my three modules. From there things went downhill. I had no motivation. I put little effort into my work and revised very little. I read even less. Most of this, I believe, is due to the fact I worked so hard in Year 1. I finished with a First - and if not a First, a very high 2-1. A low mark in my final essay, an essay into which I put all my energy, really affected me. I felt like there was little point in putting hard work into something if some touchy Irish bint could give me a below par score.

So I struggled. And because I struggles I started to feel low. Because I felt low, I found it hard to revise and do my work. It spiraled forever down. It was only at the last minute that I could find the motivation to complete my work. I simply took quotes from the first page I found or a random page further into the text.

And then, in the penultimate week of the course, I had a meltdown. I was alienated by my peers, but given overwhelming support by one of my tutors and support from another. I was going to leave university, but knew it was impossible to do this. Unfortunately, even though I knew I was going to be lucky to pass my assessments, I knew that if I left university, that meant having to go to the job centre. It was a horrible place to be. I then lost my sister and was called a racist by an ignorant, black lesbian feminist. She ticked all the boxes for minority privilege. Colour, sexuality and gender. She called me racist because she misunderstood a Facebook status about Star Wars.

Christmas was a good one. Imke and Djodi (my niece's mother and my niece) visited. It was nice to be with family and feel loved.

In the New Year, I managed to somehow complete my final assignment. I didn't feel confident. Up until this point I had only found out two results: a disappointing 67% (a high 2-1) and a disappointing 72% (a low First). I could not face finding out my other results.

I knew I would have failed something. I was basically now just waiting for an e-mail confirming this. The stress was increasing, but I was trying to ignore it. And then I received an e-mail. The e-mail contained my results. It was telling me about how to go about preparing for re-sits (in case of fail) and so I knew I'd failed something. And because of this, I opened the e-mail...

I've never got more than 68% for an essay. I saw at the bottom it said 'assessment incomplete'. Fucking brilliant. There it was - I'd got no mark.

I then looked above this and saw the words PASS three times. I had six assessments and so I deduced I had passed three and failed three. But then I saw six different module titles. I was looking at the whole Year's modules. The three passes where in the first semester. Three modules: three passes. I had got 60s and 70s. My average marks were in the 70s. In all three. I had achieved three Firsts. I had achieved 73% on two of my essays. 72% on another. 66 & 67% on two presentations and 70% on a combined practical and essay assessment.

I didn't feel any relief, but I know there must be relief in there somewhere as I felt happier afterwards. I had achieved a First in:

Contemporary Approaches to Writing and Performance - 72%

Literature, Adaptation and the Screen - 70%

Page to Stage: Drama Text in Translation - 71%

From about week 3 I knew that I would get my lowest mark in Lit, Adap., but I didn't think that lowest mark would be a First. And now I can carry on and try to build on an undeserved mark and try to drag it with me to the end of Year 3 and somehow fluke a degree with a First.

This was really badly written.