Cap and gown? More like gap and drown (in my existential anxiety)
The last week of my undergrad has officially arrived. I should be relieved. Thrilled even. Isn’t this the part where I’m supposed to be rejoicing in academia’s sweet release, excited for all my bright prospects on the horizon? Well, all I can say is that I’m feeling just as clueless as when I first enrolled in this institution. The questions I hoped to find the answers to within tertiary education are not only unanswered, but they’ve now evolved into arguably more difficult dilemmas. Who am I outside of my identity as a student? How am I supposed to fill the void without academic validation? What do I really want to do with my life? Is this really… it?
Beyond the grips of existential dread, I’m also confronted by family and friends with additional questions, usually taking in some form of ”so what are you doing after uni?”. Instead of replying with the honest (but pity-provoking) answer of sighing “I don’t know”, followed by a defeated shrug, I somehow always resort to providing a strange tangent about “figuring things out” and “exploring my (non-existent) options”.
Hell, even my Gmail account won’t let me catch a moment of peace. My inbox has been flooded with taunting internship and grad role recommendations, most of which demand a minimum of two years’ relevant work experience, or a STEM qualification I don’t possess. It seems that no matter where you look, the universe somehow finds a way to slap you in the face with a reminder of your increasingly imminent reality of unemployment.
It seems that no matter where you look, the universe somehow finds a way to slap you in the face with a reminder of your increasingly imminent reality of unemployment.
Don’t get me wrong, this piece isn’t intended to garner a pity party for myself. That’s what therapy is for. But, I just think it’s about time the not-so-fun side of finishing your degree was highlighted. For many of us, graduation isn’t some grand and celebratory event. Being thrown into navigating the big unknown of the “real world” can be incredibly overwhelming and disorienting.
Even the build-up to handing in that last assignment, or sitting that last exam is a massive learning curve in of itself. Learning not to take rejection as a personal or moral failure, and instead seeing it as merely a rejection of the application you sent in is a tough pill to swallow. Recognising that sometimes it doesn’t matter how intelligent or hard working of an individual you are, rejection is inevitable and it’s unrealistic to expect yourself to consistently defy statistical odds that often aren’t in your favour.
Attempting to ignore all of this existential uncertainty and disappointment, while also trying not to become demotivated or distracted from completing the last stretch of the semester, is really tough. While I’m still in the thick of the consuming mess that is grad anxiety, I think it’s crucial to remember that you are never alone in feeling this way. Thousands of students are in the same boat, or have previously been. Thousands of adults, who may look like they’ve got their shit figured on the outside, are too.
Equally, it’s critical to remember to extend the same sympathy and non-judgement you have for others to yourself. Do we, or have we ever viewed people, who also haven’t embarked on some prestigious and meaningful career straight out of uni, as “failures”? Or “behind” in life? Or a “waste of potential”? Probably not. This is the time that we actively call ourselves out on our hypocritical bullshit, and put into perspective how overly-critical we can be.
Because in five years, on some morning over breakfast or a random drive home, we’re all going to think back to this period and shake our heads fondly, before reminiscing on how everything ended up working out anyway in some way or another. Major life changes are always scary. But you will get through it, just like you’ve always done.
