Ah. The worst exam I’ve ever written. This is one experience I don’t think I can ever forget. It was one experience that made me believe that something was actually wrong with me.

It was my third year of writing jamb. (I didn’t know at the time that I still had four jambs to go.) The worst exam wasn’t the jamb. It was the post-jamb. Unilag Post-UTME 2015. I was fifteen and totally ready to smash the exam and grab my admission.

My mum followed me to the exam venue. I was putting on a combination of my favorite clothing items. (I didn’t care that they didn’t match.) It was a wine patterned trousers, a green halter neck top and black blazers. I loved the blazers so much that I wore it on virtually every outfit.

At the time of this exam, I knew I felt uncomfortable around new and many people. I knew my hands shook a lot. I knew funny things happened to my breathing sometimes. I was very familiar with fear. I just didn’t know what anxiety was. And to be honest, I thought these things were normal stuff that happen to everyone.

So I entered into the exam hall, took my seat and went straight into a panic attack. My head went blank. I was shaking like a ribbon tied to a ceiling fan. So I stared cluelessly at the computer in front of me. When I got tired of staring, I raised my hand to get the attention of one of the supervisors. A woman started walking towards me. She stopped at my seat and stood behind me. (I should have just kept staring.)

The first thing she did after I told her I didn’t know what to do was slap my neck. She insulted me and griped about whatever. Then she left but the effect of her slap didn’t leave. In my head, it was like someone was still standing there holding a knife to my neck and asking me to hurry up with the nonsense I was doing. So I hurried up.

I left about 25 minutes extra out of the 30 minutes I had to write the exam. I think the exam had 50 questions in all including maths. When I got out of the hall, I took a deep breath and collected myself. I hadn’t told anybody about my anxiety symptoms and I planned to keep it that way. (I didn’t want to hear you’re the one everything is always wrong with again.)

My mum being who she is had already collected the property of candidates who had no one to keep their things with. She saw me and started laughing. (Aside: I don’t know how this love thing works but if I was water and my mum was a burning house, I’d pour all of myself into her.) She just kept laughing at me. She called me a name that can be translated to “my weirdo” because who finishes a 30 minutes exam in 5 minutes?

She asked me how it was, I said fine. My heart was beating weirdly but I said fine. No further explanations. Just fine and a fake smile. (My mum is used to my quiet moods so my straight to the point response wasn’t strange.) When about ten minutes passed and no one came outside after me, my mum asked if I was sure I did the exam well. I said of course.

Few minutes later, people started to come out. They took their things from my mum. She was busy wishing them luck, asking them how the exam was and conversing with the other parents that were around. But me, I just stood there trying to make sense of what “I just did” happened.

When we got home, I kept giving the the fine and the fake smile to everyone who asked how it was. My mum told them what happened and they all laughed at me. Meanwhile, I was busy thinking: what is wrong with me? What have I done?

When the results came out. I remember that Afo (a family friend and an educational consultant) printed it and brought it home for me. I think I had 52 overall because I had a fair jamb score. I chose law so automatically, I wasn’t getting any admission.

Afo talked about a change of course which we all agreed to. I went to his office to fill and submit the form. I was so desperate for admission that I was ready to change to Chinese. But I couldn’t. The result was useless because my post-utme score was too low. I had 19. Then Afo started talking about his other candidates that gained admission and I kept thinking: why not me? Then I remembered the panic attack and it became why me?

Afo has his office in a shopping plaza. In that same shopping plaza, he has a tutorial centre. It was the tutorial center I attended for jamb. Exams were over so the venue was empty. I went there and cried. You know when you’re in so much emotional pain that you feel it physically. My head was hurting. My chest was hurting. I don’t think I’ve ever cried that hard in my life. I don’t know how long I cried for but God, I cried. I felt like the most unlucky person on earth.

If David’s dad hadn’t interrupted me, only God knows how long I’d have continued to cry for. He asked me why I was crying. I told him about the score, he told me to try Yabatech that he has connections. He told me not to cry or worry anymore. He promised to help me and he did but it ended up being another dead end because the powers that be didn’t want me to attend a polytechnic. Regardless, he gave me what I terriblly needed that day, hope. (Thank you David’s Daddy.)

After the crying episode. I got home, told my parents what Afo said like it didn’t matter to me. The only person I told my concerns was my mum and it was mostly during occasional bursts of emotion. For the most part, I kept to myself. I constantly thought about how I’d have gained admission if I didn’t have that panic attack. It took me a long time to forgive myself. I kept blaming myself for something that was beyond my control. No wonder the distrust I had towards myself became full blown fear of myself.

It may seem like I was being dramatic about the whole admission thing but at that time, I hated everything about my life. (I hated life but I believed that I’d feel better and things would get better at school.)The only thing I was interested in apart from reading and writing stories was school. It was all I had.

They could attribute every negative feature in this life to me but they’d all agree at the end of the day that I was book-smart (they didn’t think I was life-smart. Guess who they think is most reasonable/understanding now? Lol.) Hence, making something out of being the book-smart weirdo they were always laughing at was how I planned to say “in your face guyssss.” (Let it be known that I’m not trying to prove anything to anyone anymore. Whoever can think whatever.)

I can laugh at this experience because I’m in a better place now. (Still not where I want to be but baby steps yeah.) I know anxiety for what it is. I know it’s why my heart goes crazy and I sound out of breath when I answer questions in class. It’s why my hand becomes heavy when I pass by many people, especially strangers. It’s why I feel like I’m drowning sometimes. Nevertheless, I have refused to see it and all it comes with as a disadvantage. I have learned to examine my thoughts, feelings, actions and ask myself questions like: is this me or anxiety? What to do Holy Spirit?

I have mastered the art of kicking anxiety’s azz but I still avoid triggers. My formula for kicking its azz is moving anyway. Whatever it is, I do it afraid. My voice is shaky, I speak up anyway. My heart is pounding, I volunteer to do it anyway. My legs are wobbly and my hand is heavy, I keep walking anyway. The one I haven’t learned to ignore is the flight mode alarm. Lol. When it goes off, I flee and think later. One of these days, I’d ignore it and see what happens.

I’m learning to take one step at a time and am I proud of myself? Effing yes. I haven’t had a panic attack in the last couple of years. I still have anxiety attacks but now, I can calm myself down and do it so expertly that people around me won’t even know I’m inwardly pulling out my hair.

The one thing I didn’t understand then is how people find it hard to believe that I’m a huge ball of awkwardness and I have anxiety. They think the exact opposite. That I’m this confident, bad and snubbish beesh. (Leemao. Ken you emargine?) I did one presentation in 100 level. I wasn’t even prepared for it but the lecturer (a very hard to please woman) was impressed. A couple of students came to meet me after the class to comment on the presentation. And I kept wondering: how could they not tell that my voice was shaking? Couldn’t they see my shaky hands? Wasn’t my restlessness and discomfort obvious?

Now, I understand that people don’t pay much attention to struggles, what they want to see is results and that’s what they focus on. Naturally, I’m one hell of a bold human being. (My dad punished me countless times because I wasn’t afraid of him and my mum is always begging me to not talk back at elders because as I am like this if you talk, you collect.) I have a considerable amount of confidence in my abilities and I have God. So of course they can’t see anxiety because anxiety isn’t me. My light is so bright that I shine through it anyway. (You know sometimes. I think anxiety is there to both keep me in check and push me. It’d be too easy for me to be a full blown azzhole if I didn’t have to deal with anxiety.)

Here’s a lirru affirmation for you if you’re dealing with anxiety:

My heart will not run away.

My chest will not break.

I wil not fall down.

I run things.

Things don’t run me.

Hallelujah.