The Five Stages of Grief During Test Results

We’ve all been there before. We’ve taken a test we were completely unprepared for and walked out of the classroom feeling totally bewildered and utterly defeated, wondering what the heck just happened. In fact, nonexistent studies have shown that this experience can often be separated into five stages, each with its own terrible, unique emotions (source: I made it up).

Denial

“How was the test?”

The moment you hear these words, you ask the universe to magically whisk your friend away to the deepest depths of the Hudson River so they may never return and remind you of the dreadful horror you just endured. Unfortunately, the universe is unable to read your mind.

“Uhhhh, yeah, I think I did fine,” you mumble.

“Yeah, it was easy, right? I’m so glad I studied all the topics!”

“What. The. Heck,” you think, appalled. “How could someone have studied all this without going insane? Actually, on second thought, maybe I can try checking answers with them.”

You try reviewing your answers with your friend, asking about the four or so questions you remember seeing. As they list their answers, you realize that you got completely different results for each question. 

“I just KNOW question 13 was D. See? I looked it up,” they say, waving  their phone in front of your face. You can’t even tell what’s going on on their screen, but you try to summon Mr. Moran to appear at that exact moment and snatch it away. The universe refuses to listen to you yet again.

“Hey, how about question 17 on the back page?” your friend asks. “I had a bit of trouble with that one.”

Your legs turn to spaghetti as a wave of horror washes over you, sending an unwelcome terror into your stomach. “THERE WAS A BACK PAGE?”

Before your eyes can release all the emotions they’ve been holding back, you hurriedly excuse yourself to your next class and try to process everything in your head.

“No, no, no, no,” you think to yourself. “Maybe I remembered wrong. Maybe I did do the back page and I just somehow forgot. Maybe I’ll get at least some of the questions correct. I couldn’t have gotten them all wrong, right?”

You try adding up the points of questions you possibly got correct, praying for it to be enough for you to pass. “Maybe if the teacher interprets my free-response answer very creatively, I can get partial credit. There have to be some questions I got correct. I didn’t fail. I didn’t fail…”

After repeating these words over and over again to yourself, you begin to get sick of worrying and try to put the thought out of your head. You do your best to focus on what gibberish makes it through to your rattled brain in your next confusing class.

Anger

Despite how hard you try to forget about the test, the worrying finally gets to you three days later.

“Honestly, why did the teacher even put all of that on the test? All these questions asking about obscure topics and annoyingly specific details, as if anyone can remember all of that!” you seethe to yourself. “Who even cares about this? They didn’t even cover half of it in class!”

You check Jupiter to see if the test grade has been posted. When you don’t see anything, you scream internally. “WHAT is taking so long? I just want to be over with this already! Stop making me worry! Why do I have to turn in all my homework the day after it’s assigned, but they get to take their sweet time with grading?”

You refresh Jupiter again. Still nothing. You remember your friend happily talking about how they prepared well, and the rage only builds as you feel your teeth grinding and fists clenching. It’s only a matter of time before you go full demon mode and throw your friend in the Hudson River to shut them up.

Bargaining

After a few more days, Jupiter is still as blank as ever.

You begin to think to yourself, “If I pass this test, I’ll never complain about this class again. If I get even a 65, I’ll be the happiest person in the world. I’ll buy my teacher an extravagant gift. I won’t curse their name to all the underclassmen who might have them next year.”

You offer one-sided deals to the academic gods: “If I pass, I promise I won’t doomscroll or procrastinate again (spoiler alert: that’s not happening). I’ll delete all my games and focus on my studies (yeah, right). I’ll actually participate in class (you have never raised your hand once). I’ll turn all my work in on time (all your homework is done during the passing period before the class). I’ll spend the night in the Hudson Staircase (you’re deathly afraid of the traumatizing stories your friend has told you about this mysterious realm).”

You know full well that procrastination will forever define your personality and that you won’t be going anywhere near that Hudson Staircase, but it doesn’t hurt to try and negotiate a little…right?

Depression

Just when the thoughts of the test have finally begun to escape your head, you see a new grade on Jupiter. Your test grade.

You can feel the shock vibrating through your body and the tinge of freedom in your bones. It’s finally here. You’ve achieved escapism and forgotten about the test entirely, but now it has finally decided to show up and knock on your door.

64. You failed.

You slump back, your body numb all over, your gut feeling like it has just been punched by a gorilla (with the aid of the 99 other men). Is your vision playing tricks on you? This cannot be happening.

Your mind starts to spiral back to all the nights you chose to play Brawl Stars instead of studying. You stare at a wall and think about dropping out, googling “how to make money without a high school degree.” You sit there for who knows how long, feeling as hopeless and empty as your GPA.

Eventually, your legs start to get sore and you go for a walk, wandering around like a lost sheep, trying to reflect on what just happened.

Acceptance

“There’s nothing I can do about it now,” you tell yourself. The emotional damage has been done.

Even as your classmates boast about getting 95s the next day, you stand there like a true chill guy, plastering a nonchalant smile onto your face.

You later google motivational quotes to help you keep going.

“‘Every mistake is a lesson.’ So exactly how many lessons do I need?”

“‘Failure is the first step to success.’ Hmm, very deep.”

Maybe it’s just you being delusional, but these quotes are actually starting to have an effect on you. You adopt the way of zen and tranquility. “Worldly matters like tests do not bother me. I am not defined by my test scores. I am my own unique individual, with my own kind of intelligence.”

Eventually, you give up. You sigh. You eat a cookie. You just let it be. Until your teacher announces that next week is the final exam.

And the series of unfortunate grievances begins again…