Some searching has led me to believe this is often termed as “imposter syndrome”—being someone you didn’t think you are. It indicates how the person suffering might have low self-esteem and related issues. It’s right up my alley! I know I shouldn’t be this excited, probably. Some articles suggest this might actually be a good thing—like a fever so severe you couldn’t get out of bed but got to read a book instead. There’s always some advantage with a disadvantage, isn’t there? /s
While ticking the last answer on my GRE, my heart was beating really fast and really hard, throbbing. I was genuinely worried. Unfortunately, I didn’t have my Fitbit (Please stop asking if it’s an Apple watch. It isn’t.) as nothing is allowed inside the test centre. You have to remove any watch(es), phone(s), key(s), piece(s) of paper, currency etc., except for the paper that they give you, your IDs and a locker key (in my case, at least). I read online that pens and mechanical pencils aren’t allowed. I had a sharpened set of pencils ready to attack the scratch paper as soon as the timer started. So, of course, they weren’t permitted. A good mechanical pencil was provided by the centre—a bold one—and the scratch papers were pink—not a great combination in my opinion. Oh, how I digress!
With my heart throbbing under tremendous mental pressure, I clicked ‘Next’. Then, I had the choice to review the questions individually. I clicked ‘Next’ cross-checking each of my answers one last time. Each click increased my heart rate by a few BPM, or so it felt. I finally clicked the button which meant my test was over, expecting to see the dreaded scores the following second. In the most anti-climactic event in my life (the second being the announcement of the third place prize as a LAPTOP-bag (by the legendary quizmaster Giri)), I now had to fill details of the university departments which I wanted to send my scores from a rather tedious list. After finishing that, the scores popped up. I looked at them. I wrote them on my scratch paper. I added them up. I ‘hmm’ed to myself. Leaving the exam centre, collecting my things, thanking the centre supervisors (I’m the second most polite person I know) and tying my shoelaces seated on some stairs, I was in a drastically melancholic mood. I was neutral.
I communicated the scores with my friends and family. Congratulations started trickling in. I said, “Thanks!” Had I done something really good? If yes, I wasn’t feeling it at all!
Something similar happened more recently. The 6th semester provisional result (usually the same as the final) was released. I got wind of it on reading a congratulatory message sent by a classmate -- 2nd ranked this semester, 4th overall. I mean, that's certainly not bad! I jumped like 6 or 7 class ranks. That's a huge thing this late in the course (6th out of 8 semesters). Why wasn't I happy or excited?!
The biggest issue with this syndrome, or whatever, is the weird situation it has created. I do something that's okay in my perspective while being awesome in others', and I'm accused of arrogance. I'm called a show-off. You think I do this on purpose? Don't you feel I'd like to enjoy something once in a while? No, because you only think about yourself! #memereference
If I did do something that's laudable, I don't feel it. If my feelings are correct, then the world is fooling me comprehensively. Either way, I'm not happy. Does it have to do with neurotransmitter levels in the brain? That got me believing I'm susceptible to early-onset Parkinson's (genetics too). That made me less happy.
Writing this catharsis (read simply as 'rant'), did help me shrug off the grumpy cat (R.I.P.) feeling for now. Man, writing's awesome!
While ticking the last answer on my GRE, my heart was beating really fast and really hard, throbbing. I was genuinely worried. Unfortunately, I didn’t have my Fitbit (Please stop asking if it’s an Apple watch. It isn’t.) as nothing is allowed inside the test centre. You have to remove any watch(es), phone(s), key(s), piece(s) of paper, currency etc., except for the paper that they give you, your IDs and a locker key (in my case, at least). I read online that pens and mechanical pencils aren’t allowed. I had a sharpened set of pencils ready to attack the scratch paper as soon as the timer started. So, of course, they weren’t permitted. A good mechanical pencil was provided by the centre—a bold one—and the scratch papers were pink—not a great combination in my opinion. Oh, how I digress!
With my heart throbbing under tremendous mental pressure, I clicked ‘Next’. Then, I had the choice to review the questions individually. I clicked ‘Next’ cross-checking each of my answers one last time. Each click increased my heart rate by a few BPM, or so it felt. I finally clicked the button which meant my test was over, expecting to see the dreaded scores the following second. In the most anti-climactic event in my life (the second being the announcement of the third place prize as a LAPTOP-bag (by the legendary quizmaster Giri)), I now had to fill details of the university departments which I wanted to send my scores from a rather tedious list. After finishing that, the scores popped up. I looked at them. I wrote them on my scratch paper. I added them up. I ‘hmm’ed to myself. Leaving the exam centre, collecting my things, thanking the centre supervisors (I’m the second most polite person I know) and tying my shoelaces seated on some stairs, I was in a drastically melancholic mood. I was neutral.
I communicated the scores with my friends and family. Congratulations started trickling in. I said, “Thanks!” Had I done something really good? If yes, I wasn’t feeling it at all!
Something similar happened more recently. The 6th semester provisional result (usually the same as the final) was released. I got wind of it on reading a congratulatory message sent by a classmate -- 2nd ranked this semester, 4th overall. I mean, that's certainly not bad! I jumped like 6 or 7 class ranks. That's a huge thing this late in the course (6th out of 8 semesters). Why wasn't I happy or excited?!
The biggest issue with this syndrome, or whatever, is the weird situation it has created. I do something that's okay in my perspective while being awesome in others', and I'm accused of arrogance. I'm called a show-off. You think I do this on purpose? Don't you feel I'd like to enjoy something once in a while? No, because you only think about yourself! #memereference
If I did do something that's laudable, I don't feel it. If my feelings are correct, then the world is fooling me comprehensively. Either way, I'm not happy. Does it have to do with neurotransmitter levels in the brain? That got me believing I'm susceptible to early-onset Parkinson's (genetics too). That made me less happy.
Writing this catharsis (read simply as 'rant'), did help me shrug off the grumpy cat (R.I.P.) feeling for now. Man, writing's awesome!
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