We’ve all been there. The act of submitting an essay is truly a process of emotional and mental torment. The proceeding days towards a deadline become the closest thing you’ve experienced to madness, and a spiral of hopelessness ensues as you attempt to write the most mind-numbing 3,000 words of your life. No wonder a lot of students ask people to do my essays for me. They are hard and stressful things.
Now, I’m not comparing essay submission to that of losing a loved one. I am however saying it seems awfully suspicious how well the process fits into the stages of loss. Is this a sign of the loss of hope? Freedom? Sanity?
I don’t know. But I do know that every time you submit an essay, a part of your soul dies. I also know that by reading this article and finding out, you don’t have to start that essay you’ve been avoiding for at least the next four minutes. If you’re looking for some additional support for your essay, it may be worth checking out something like essayhelp to help you get started.
It hits you like a ton of bricks. Cold, clammy hands grasp the assignment cover sheet and you watch the bewildered glances of your classmates. It’s a war-zone. “This is only Femininity 101,” you mutter… You didn’t realise there’d be work.
The next few weeks after receiving your essay due date will be the performance of a lifetime. So believable you’ll be winning an Oscar any day now.
Life continues just as it did before, and you’re in a state of child-like innocence. Even on the Friday before it’s due, you continue to refuse your responsibilities and go out, drinking way too much wine. It’s cold outside but your cosy cloak of ignorance keeps you warm.
Saturday morning comes around, your mouth is as dry as a desert and your head is still spinning. Suddenly, your friend messages you: “Hey J, how’s the essay going? Please do my essay for me! I can’t believe it’s due on Monday!!!! L”.
Your body is suddenly filled with rage. No-one told you it was due on Monday? You don’t even remember getting the cover sheet? Your professor is evil and she wants her students to fail. You continue to rail against fate and eventually write a status about it.
You’ve thrown up in the shower and are starting to acknowledge the impending doom. You figure your best bet is to pull a Harry Houdini and get out of this situation.
This is when you email your tutor asking for an extension because you figure that you can get a couple more days out of her. You decide to go for the old-fashioned flu trick. In a cold, evil reply she simply states: “Doctor certificate needed.” Urgh. You write another status about it.
It’s Saturday afternoon and the looming due date of 9am Monday finally has to be dealt with.
This is also around the time you enter full–fledged remorse zone. Why are you such a lazy member of society? Why didn’t you drop out of high school and begin your new life as a labour worker? Because they start at 5am, you remember. You’re so ashamed you don’t even write a status about it.
This night is the thing nightmares are made of, and it also happens to be the longest of all the stages.
It starts off innocent; a cup of coffee and your laptop perched up on your desk. You have 12 hours to write an essay, heaps of time.
Fast-forward two hours; you click word count, click it again, a hopeless pit of despair as you realise you’ve only written 400 of the 3,000-word count. You begin seriously considering stealing your younger brothers Ritalin, but manage to curb your cravings and opt for another cup of coffee instead.
Another hour, and another 400 words down; you use your calculator to work out exactly what grade you need to pass the class. You do this for a good fifteen minutes before realising math is hard, and this is probably not a fabulous use of your time.
It comes to 12pm, and the essay is due in 9 hours. The last few hours have been filled with torture that has left you draped in a blanket and hunched over your computer. You look like a crazed wizard. You laugh manically about it and take snap chats. Your friends can see the pain in your eyes.
2,000 words and another two cups of coffee down. Your ingenious use of unnecessary adjectives has brought you over the half way mark. To celebrate, you steal some of the aforementioned Ritalin.
You spend the next two hours in a chemically induced haze and laugh hysterically as you type the most profound paragraphs ever to be produced by any human. You type on the keyboard with the swiftness and speediness of a dove. Finally you reach the 2,500 word mark. You are a master of words.
Finally, at 3am you fall asleep whispering the sweet nothings of Harvard style referencing.
You’ve woken up at 7am to finish of the rest of the essay. Reading over the last paragraphs physically hurts your eyeballs; it’s like watching Lassie attempt to communicate but with a lesser grasp on the English language. It becomes apparent that your moments of Ritalin-induced ingenuity were just hallucinations.
Finally, its 8.54 and you’ve scraped together the rest of the 3,000 word-count. The Rocky theme song plays as you move your fingers toward the “submit” button. A single tear glistens and falls down your cheek as you get the confirmation message.
THE “I’LL BE BETTER NEXT TIME” STAGE
This is a very special stage that I like to include in essay submission. It all starts with a passionate resolve not to make the same mistake twice. In the hours after submitting the essay you begin to feel like you’ve transcended to the next mortal plane, and start your newly evolved life with a resolution.
Next time you will not leave it to the last minute! Next time you will be better, faster, stronger, wiser! You play Hilary Duffs’ Metamorphosis album on repeat and envision yourself rising like a phoenix from past failed essays. This high will continue for three days until you completely forget about your recent epiphany and descend back into your man-child state.