The 7 stages of writing an essay (we've all been there)
Stage one: I have plenty of time. Stage seven: why did I write this.
Pictured: a rice grain on stage five.
Writing an essay is a journey. Not a pleasant one. A journey full of denial, panic, and at least one moment where you stare at a blinking cursor wondering if you can drop the class instead.
Here are the seven stages everyone goes through. If you're in one right now, just know you're not alone.
Stage 1: Confidence
"I have plenty of time."
The assignment drops. You read the prompt, nod wisely, and file it away for Future You. Future You is smart and organized. Future You will handle this with ease. Present You adds it to a to-do list and immediately forgets about it.
Time remaining: two weeks.
Stage 2: Avoidance
"I'll start tomorrow."
Tomorrow comes. You don't start. The essay exists somewhere in the back of your mind like a small, growing cloud. You do other homework, clean your room, start a new show. Anything but the essay. You could start it, but you're waiting for inspiration.
Time remaining: one week.
Stage 3: Bargaining
"If I just outline it today, I'll be ahead."
You open the document. You write the title. Maybe the header with your name and date. You stare at the blank page for a while. You write a single sentence, delete it, write it again, and then close the laptop to "think about it more." The outline does not happen.
Time remaining: three days.
Stage 4: Panic
"Why didn't I start this earlier?"
The deadline is real now. It's on the calendar. It's tomorrow. The confidence has evaporated. The blank page is taunting you. You start Googling the topic frantically, opening seventeen tabs, none of which you'll use properly.
Time remaining: 24 hours.
Stage 5: Frantic Writing
"Just get words on the page."
It's happening. You're typing. You're not sure if it's good, but it's something. Sentences appear. Paragraphs form. You don't look at the word count because it will only stress you out. Coffee is involved. Time becomes meaningless. Your notes are scattered around you like a small tornado hit.
Time remaining: 6 hours.
Stage 6: Delirium
"Is this even English?"
It's late. You've read the same sentence fourteen times. The thesis makes sense but also somehow doesn't. You add a conclusion that you're not proud of but at least it exists. You've stopped being able to judge quality. Everything looks wrong and also fine.
Time remaining: 45 minutes.
Stage 7: Submission
"It's done. I never want to see it again."
You click submit. You feel empty. You feel free. You feel vaguely nauseous. The essay is out of your life now, for better or worse. You close the laptop, stare at the ceiling, and promise yourself you'll start earlier next time.
You will not start earlier next time.
How to break the cycle (slightly)
We wrote a whole guide on why procrastination happens if you want the psychology. The short version: break the essay into the smallest possible steps and do just one today. Open the doc, write one sentence, close it. Progress is progress.
If you're currently in stage four or five, you've got this. And if you're in stage one, screenshot this as a warning. Take our procrastination style quiz to find out which flavor of avoidance you specialize in.
Your turn: take the test
100 questions, about three minutes, one brutal score. Then send it to the group chat.