Finding Closure as a Student Since Lockdown Took Away Our Final Months of Uni Life

I remember the first time the word ‘coronavirus’ popped up on my twitter feed. A deadly virus had emerged on the other side of the world in a village I had never heard of. A sad and slightly scary story, but one that felt particularly distant too. For a week or two the story seemed almost lost amongst the usual bleakness of news – Brexit, Trump and devastating climate change. At this time, I, along with many others I’m sure, would never have thought it would have such a devastating impact worldwide and within our own lives. I even recall making light of the topic when a friend messaged me expressing their fear, comparing it to the film ‘Contagion’. I naively dismissed their fears.

At the time when coronavirus was first making headlines in the UK during late January and early February, I was more concerned with getting on with final University essays and my dissertation. Had I known I would end up completing these assignments at my family home under a national lockdown I would have spent less time in bed watching winter love island and more time doing all the things I wanted to do before I left University for good.

I have sat at home on some of the warmest, sunniest days of the year so far, knowing that had it not been for lockdown, I’d be at Uni with my closest friends, probably on the square with a pint or by the lake having a barbecue, making memories I would have cherished forever.

I have sat at the makeshift desk in my childhood bedroom (I emptied a bookshelf to use as a desk) working on my last essays, knowing I should be in the library with the coffee I bought from familiar faces at the Uni coffee shop.

I have sat at home as I electronically submitted my dissertation knowing I should have been getting it professionally bound, forcing my friends to take photos of me with it on the best spots on campus and then heading to the student bar to celebrate.

I have sat at home to sit my final exam. You’d think without the time pressure this one would be a relief, but I actually found this incredibly difficult. I missed the novelty of an exam setting. I missed the relief of walking out of the exam room with the people I’d studied in class with for months. The lack of stress and pressure over it also sent my motivation levels practically out of the window. After years of taking exams, at some point I sat my last one and didn’t even know it.

I have sat at home on the day I should have been at the end of year ball for my course, knowing I would have been at the Carrow road stadium, dressed in black tie celebrating 3 years of hard work with my peers.

I will have to sit at home on the day my student card expires, and I officially lose that title of ‘student’ and simply become ‘unemployed’.

I will have to sit at home on the days that would have been my friends’ graduations, knowing I should be celebrating with them, taking photos of them in their gowns and going to our favourite pub.

Finally, I will have to sit at home on the day that would have been my own graduation. I do not know what I will do on this day, but it certainly won’t feel like the monumental milestone that it should have been.

The escalation of the pandemic seemed to occur so quickly that my friends and I all ran back to the safety of our family homes before we could even consider completing our ‘lasts’ of University life. In fact, at that time I’m sure many of us underestimated the longevity of the impact that coronavirus would have, or at least were in denial of the fact. As time went on and lockdown extended, these events that I mentioned above began to pass us by as we sat idle at home.

I am no expert in psychology or mental health, but personally I have found this to be one of the oddest and deeply upsetting sensations; doing nothing as moments I had planned and excitedly looked forward to for so long just passed me by. Feelings of frustration, anger, sadness, nostalgia, gratefulness, and guilt seem to be on a loop. The frustration, anger, and sadness stem from the feeling that we’ve been robbed of so many months’ worth of precious memories from what was already too short a time at University. Nostalgia and gratefulness come from reflection on the wonderful memories I had already made. The guilt is from the awareness that in the grand scheme of things I am incredibly lucky. This pandemic has brought devastation worldwide, and lockdown is an action 100% necessary to prevent the spread of the virus and save lives. I do not oppose the lockdown in any sense, and I support all those working to ease the impact of Covid. However, I cannot escape the frustration I feel that this has happened. And that loop of emotions begins again.

Friends and family provide reassurance with sentiments such as “You’ll get to see your friends again and make great new memories some other time!” or, “You’ll get your graduation ceremony, there’s no way the University won’t provide some kind of celebration one day”. Which is lovely, and I appreciate that support and understanding. But for me the thing that I keep coming back to is that I will never live a normal day at University again, and at some point there was a day that was my last normal day at University and I had no idea. There is no closure here. 3 years that have been so important to me and have really changed and shaped me into a very different person than I was when I first arrived on campus have just ended with no warning. It seems impossible to accept or process the end of such a momentous period of my life and I fear I will live the rest of my 20’s in a student mindset, pining after those last memories we never made.

I went to my favourite coffee shop on campus for the last time and had no idea. I studied in the library and walked out of that building after hours of work/procrastination and had no idea it would be the last time. I sat with my friends in the student bar after someone convinced us all to give up our studies for the day and we had no idea it would be the last time. I stumbled out of our favourite trashy club we’d been going to almost weekly since the first night of freshers in first year and had no idea it was last time. Knowing I can go to other coffee shops, other libraries, other clubs and bars with my friends – or even those same places when they eventually re-open is little comfort. Not only practically is it unlikely we could return to our beloved bar, library, or on-campus club as the student cards which allowed us entry to those places will be expired, but also the context will have changed. We will have moved on, moved away, starting new jobs or internships. It would be a trip down memory lane rather than a last hurrah.

Going forward, I am not sure how I will process this feeling of missing closure. I have hope and aspirations for the future which I am very much looking forward to. However, I feel I will always struggle with this feeling. Knowing I did not have the opportunity to have those ‘lasts’ how I wanted and needed to in order to healthily move on mentally to the next chapter of my life will be something I will struggle with.

I’m conscious that this piece has been quite a self-absorbed reflection on my mental state since lockdown and has been a way for me to channel my frustrations rather than anything informative or constructive so let me finish by saying this: What I have written here is simply my perspective on the niche, but very real impact on final year students. It is by no means a pressing issue but rather a reflection on one of the strange and sad impacts of this unprecedented time of lockdown, where the world as we know it is on pause and important events and memories are being missed.

I am aware that I am incredibly lucky that neither I or any of my close friends or family members have suffered from Coronavirus. I am therefore aware that my experience of the impact of Covid-19 is particularly trivial in comparison with those who have felt the devastating impact of the virus personally or within their family, either in terms of health or economically since the impact on employment and small businesses. I have the upmost respect for the health workers who have worked to save lives during this pandemic and am saddened by the tragic loss of life that has occurred.