Lent term is in full swing, and by March, we will be done with another term of summative and formative essays. But looking back at these six months, does make me feel nostalgic already. I know there is just the summer term left after this, and then liberation from graduate study.
All the friends we have made here, all the memories we have had as post graduate students – the one year seems to be finishing itself in a hurry, leaving us panting to keep up with it. Even the thought of all of us not being in London, living the same life again, worries me. I am not facing a mid-life crisis, I am in the middle of a mid-term crisis. I want the clock to stop and suspend me in time, because I don’t want to see the end of this journey, and I am scared of what might come next.
A lot of us are still unsure as to what we will be doing after our degree. For many of us, this is the final academic journey. Now, life will only be about jobs, seeking jobs, and asking our bosses for even a day’s leave. It is the scary growing up phase that some of us will start, some of us will re-start.
I don’t want to grow up. I know this doesn’t make me sound like a grown-up graduate student, but I actually don’t want to see the world after this. This crisis of my mind, which keeps asking me to go back to michaelmas term, has started gnawing at me every second now. I feel as if the happy bubble which was making me soar at the beginning of the term is now slowly letting out its air, and planting me back (this time firmly), on the ground.
Now, I can see prospective students applying – I know it is almost time for me to leave. Change is inevitable, but sometimes also unacceptable. LSE has made me enjoy my life, given me moments of joy, moments of surprise, moments of pain, moments I want to re-live. My summative essays are almost done, all I have left now are exams. But the thought of taking the exam doesn’t scare me. The thought of leaving LSE does.
I hope my mid-term crisis evaporates soon, but doesn’t leave me with a void. The memories of my life here at LSE will last me a lifetime. I wish I could go back to that first day of landing in London and clumsily dragging my bags from Heathrow airport, entering LSE for the first time and getting confused between Clements House and St. Clements.