Around this time two years ago, our board exam results were released. For board exam takers, that short period between the last day of the exams and the announced release date of results is the most agonizing experience.
As for me, I did not really want to invest agony for the whole week when I know when it was going to be announced. I mean, nobody can deny that the wait was unsettling. But, I cannot let that fright take over me. There are a lot more things I was frightened about, such as directionlessness, which was so overwhelming that the board exam seemed trivial in comparison.
As a headstart, this blog might sound like I am just gloating. It depends on perspective, though.
This is my untold story.
During that week, I did not even have to intentionally fill my head with thoughts. My mind was already diverted away from the board exam results. I was looking forward. I fixed my résumé. I drafted application emails which I would send once I know the results. I had a set of companies to tap if I pass, and another set if I fail. I listed all my projected expenses of moving out and job hunting. My top priority was getting a job and starting work as soon as possible, and my funds can support me only up to a month of unemployment.
My plans were all structured and laid out. I had a full itinerary of firms to visit, including their arrangement, their streets, the nearby places to try out. All I needed was to fill in the dates. And who I would go with.
That was where the sad part started.
After I secured my self-preparations, I began to reach out to people.
"Hey friend, when are you going to apply? In which companies? Will your job hunt be on intermittent dates or will you rent a bedspace for a week? I know we have only met at the review school, but do you want to go firm hopping next week?"
"I still do not know."
Nobody wanted to talk about what's next after the results.
Being an overthinker, I interpreted those rejections as telling me I was a nuisance. I had hallucinations of people looking at me with disgust, saying, "If you are not nervous because you are guaranteed to pass, do not look down on us."
No one can predict my results. I was not belittling anybody. I was not stepping anyone's dreams. I did not understand why I was not being answered properly.
All I wanted was to talk about the future.
Realistically speaking, there was no point stressing about the board exams, a sunk cost. I have my regrets, too. Like, if I studied this lesson more, I would have answered two more questions correctly. Or, if I did not binge-read during the preweek, I would have been able to answer that problem with five sub-questions. But, nothing can be done anymore.
I can decide my life, and I chose to move forward. Let the process finish itself within the week. I should attend to things that will not start unless catalyzed.
And yes, everyone can decide for their own lives. I cannot force people to imbibe my principles. So then, I stopped bugging people. If I want to plan my life, I need to stop depending on other people's opinion.
Initially, I thought it was cool preparing stuff and all. I thought everyone around me was just clouded by their emotions. I mean, whether the coin flips heads or tails, we will all need to work. Or at least, "I" need to work. I need to break myself free. I need to fend for myself. It was not like my world will stop if I do not pass. I only need to focus on myself.
At first, I thought I was cool, being prospective and assertive. While others were anxious of the results, I leveraged my adrenalin to plan out my life. I thought highly of myself because I was taking action when everybody else was waiting. I shrug off their indecisiveness by continuing to do my thing. I know, some believe in jinxes, so they refrain from revealing their plans.
But no matter how much I consoled myself, it was extremely lonely.
During those times I was physically distant from my favorite people, no one wanted to talk. Everyone wanted to deactivate, to turn off their phones, because the results might pop up suddenly ahead of schedule.
It was extremely lonely.
And with that loneliness, I got tired.
I felt like I forced myself to grow up too fast, that I bypassed the feeling of eagerly waiting for the results. It still felt bad being left out. So, I deactivated from Facebook. "Everybody does it anyway." I would rather be the one leaving than the one who has been left.
But, that escapism sucked out the feelings off of me. So when the results finally came out, there was nothing.
There were two people who contacted me immediately when the results came out. I was not checking the news. I saw my name in the roster, and thanked them, because I would not have known soon if they had not spoken. I was thankful, but I did not feel the urge to shout or inform my family or reactivate my account immediately. What I thought about was, now that the results are out, will the people around me start acting normal again?
No crowning glory. No surge of emotions. I would have loved to share my journey like everyone else. I would have loved to feel like a star with all the attention and congratulatory messages. But that time, I was empty, and I cannot return to that moment to refill myself.
At this point, you might have realized why this is an untold story. I was a jerk, so I could never tell anyone about my experience. It was like an unpopular opinion which will never ever be accepted.
Since that day, for two years, I have held back this story and just went with the flow of other people's stories—their stories of success, everyone was rejoicing, they were changing their profile pictures, there were a lot of dedication posts and congratulatory messages. On the other hand, other people were also posting their commitments to try again and never surrender. Some were telling their regrets and points they wished they could change. Foe both cases, Facebook was a dynamic place of self-expression. I just lurked around, liking and replying each congratulatory comment to me, and liking everyone else's post, of happiness or pain.
Some of the friends I asked plans of did not pass. It was hard to reach out because it felt like I jinxed their dreams by trying to know their plans. I do not have that kind of sorcery, but still, it felt bad.
I also knew I cannot think about every single person who might feel bad. I needed to move fast for my own plans. I only had myself to lean on to. I reached out once to each important friend just to let them know that I was thinking about them, the whole time.
I was also just glad that, because the results were out, the people I bothered before came back to reconnect.
People need time to compose themselves. Even I have many, many times I do not want my peace to be disturbed. It later dawned on me that I was acting all self-important. I placed a self-inflicted emptiness upon myself and complained for it. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but like I always say, "I need to move forward."
For an ender, I sent my résumé to various firms the very next morning. I needed my papers to be on the frontrow on the queue. I do not remember if my family threw a celebration lunch for me—I did not really mind. I stayed with my friend for (I think) five days while we went job hunting. I took the application exam, was interviewed, and was hired on the same day by the firm I first went to, walk-in. I was the first one among my classmates to get hired and to start working. I transferred to Makati mid-way June with the little capital that I had. I started work within one month from passing the board exams. The other firms I sent my papers first later contacted me. My plans went smoothly. It was very efficient.
I just missed the excitement and anxiety that were supposed to have been cultured by those nine nights, which would have made that night fonder, in exchange for looking forward. I have no regrets.
What happened after that is another story to tell.
I just spouted a very unpopular story. I would love to share more meaningful stories, if I only had one. Can't help it if my story is like this. It's real.
Now that two years has passed, this journal entry (pun intended) I kept in my mind for so long... I need to let it go now and make it a mere archive.
Comments