The stress I subject myself to.

You see, I do rather well in my studies and in doing so; I regularly pressure myself to excel.

This is not necessarily a bad trait, as it can help you grow into a better version of yourself and makes sure that you take things seriously.

However, I am, in a sense, rather extreme.

On the day of an exam, I would wake up early to revise.

Early to the point I would be greeted by the dark night sky instead of sunshine.

During the exam, I would go through my paper and estimate my score. I would (and still do, just not as greatly) lower my estimate and, in turn, my expectations.

This made sure that I wouldn’t face great disappointment when our scores were revealed.

It seemed like a great foolproof plan equipped with logic that made total sense.

After all, if I were expecting sixty out of hundred, then getting eighty wouldn’t disappoint me.

And so, I convinced myself that lowering my estimate was a good idea, great even.

Thus, I would always lower my estimate and try to convince myself that my estimate was correct. After all, if I didn’t believe I did badly, my expectations wouldn’t drop at all. But deep down I knew that I did better than my estimate.

But the possibility of scoring sixty lingered in the back of my head even after leaving the exam hall.

“What if I actually got sixty?”

“What if my estimate turns out to be accurate?”

Such ‘what if’s plagued my mind anytime I got to sit and relax.

So, instead of confronting my thoughts head on, I would just shove them further to the back of my head, only for them to appear the next time I decided to take a break.

This resulted in me throwing myself into revision and worrying for the next exams even more while subconsciously dealing with all the ‘what if’s.

Then, when my exams were over and all I had was free time, the thoughts would perk up once again and I was constantly stressed even though the exams were over and there was nothing I could do.

Even sleep wasn’t safe anymore.

I’d dream about taking math exams in Dzongkha or having to take all the exams at once or having to sit for an exam I didn’t even study for.

Sometimes, I’d even dream of my skin rotting after an exam or the embarrassment of failing.

In truth, I think that the embarrassment was what truly scared me.

I was terrified of the embarrassment I would face when my teacher revealed my less than satisfactory mark.

The embarrassment when I would have to sit and stare at my paper with said unsatisfactory mark circled in red and taunting me.

The embarrassment of showing my paper to my parents and watching the expression on their faces morph from excitement to shock and disappointment.

I was scared of embarrassing myself in front of others, but I was absolutely terrified of the fact that I wouldn’t live up to my standards, that I wouldn’t be able to fulfill my goals.

I was terrified of the annoying, itchy feeling that always started in my stomach as I tried to figure out what went wrong and where.

I was terrified of the annoying, itchy feeling that would then travel upward until the top of my throat blocking my words and making it hard to breathe.

I was terrified of the annoying, itchy feeling that would then move to my head as I subjected myself to constant stress- all in hope of driving myself to get better.

That annoying, itchy feeling in particular, was what kept me up at night and, for better or for worse, still does.