#studying tips

📅 Step One: I Make a Schedule (and then ignore it until I don’t)

I start every week by making a very detailed schedule. Like, minute-by-minute level of insanity. Not because I’ll follow it (lol) but because it tricks my brain into thinking there’s structure. Think of it as me gaslighting my frontal lobe into productivity.

Color-coded. With emojis. Because I am ✨visually motivated✨ and I will simply not look at a boring spreadsheet.

Fic-writing gets its own slot. Yes. I schedule my delulu. Don’t judge me. Or do. I don't care.

Buffer time is sacred. I know I’ll procrastinate or get distracted or cry a little. We budget that in.

🍳 Step Two: I Eat Breakfast (This is Revolutionary)

Look. I used to skip breakfast. “No time,” I said, while scrolling AO3 at 6am. Then I started eating a small breakfast (protein + carbs) and suddenly my brain was like "maybe we can understand linear algebra." Food = focus, besties. The mitochondria cannot be the powerhouse of your cell on an empty stomach.

Also, snacks. All the time. I will literally bribe myself with grapes and crackers.

⏰ Step Three: I Work in 40-Minute Goblin Sprints

40 minutes of focus. Or... mostly focus. Sometimes I end up rewriting my fic's kissing scene for the 18th time.

Then 5–10 minutes of break where I do one (1) of the following:

Walk in tiny angry circles

Do skincare (because I’m a hot mess but I’ll be glowing)

Yell into a pillow

Read one paragraph of a fic and then STOP. (Don't let it suck you in. You will not return.)

Dance break

Scream Taylor Swift Lyrics

Play guitar for a bit

Literally sit outside to get some air. No, I don't care if it's raining, we're sitting OUTSIDE.

This method keeps my dopamine-starved brain mildly entertained and also prevents academic burnout-slash-complete nervous collapse.

🎵 Step Four: Playlists for Everything (I Am a Bard)

I have:

A study playlist (no lyrics or I will start writing a fic in my head about the tragic backstory of a calculator)

A fic-writing playlist (this one is pure unhinged vibes. It goes from Florence + the Machine to Doja Cat to sad piano in 3 songs flat)

A cleaning playlist because my room turns into a hellpit during exam season

A crying playlist for when I need to sob into my emotional support black hoodie for 15 minutes and then Get Back To It™

Music = brain leash. Tether yourself to the vibes.

📚 Step Five: Lesson Breaks = Self-Care Minigames

I do this thing where between topics, I reward myself with a “mini-task.” Like:

A sheet mask while reviewing notes

Washing my face between chapters

Brushing my hair and pretending I’m the main character who’s about to destroy her enemies in the midterms

It’s like my day becomes a little video game with tasks and cutscenes. Bonus: I stay somewhat mentally balanced and less crusty.

✍️ Step Six: I Write Fics Because Otherwise I’ll Die

Fic writing is not optional. It's medicine. If I go too long without writing, my soul starts to vibrate in a bad way. Like the ideas rot in my brain and I cannot do sh!t basically.

But here’s the trick:

I use fic writing as a reward for doing school stuff. Like "Finish this problem set and THEN you can go write about emotionally constipated elves kissing."

OR I do “warm-up writing” — 15 minutes of fic before studying. Just to get my brain moving. This has helped a lot those past few weks.

My ADHD is fueled by dopamine. Fic? Full of it. Use it.

🖤 Step Seven: I May Be a Goth Girlie, But I’m Not Doing Full Trad Makeup Just to Study

Let’s get one thing very clear: I am not spending 40 minutes crafting a black ombré lid and gluing bat wings to my eyelashes just to open my Google Drive. This ain’t a photoshoot for Graveyard Vogue — I’m just trying to survive differential equations.

So we compromise:

I slap on some ✨grunge makeup✨ like I’m the sleep-deprived extra in a 2003 Evanescence music video.

Eyeliner sharp enough to murder a man and possibly my will to live.

Lip gloss in gray, mauve, or cursed Victorian ghost purple — bonus if it looks like I kissed a corpse.

It’s hot girl study armor. It’s not for the vibes. It’s for combat.

🧠 Step Eight: I Pavlov Dog Myself Into Productivity With Glitter

Listen. My brain has no concept of time, urgency, or consequence. But it does understand pattern recognition. So I made this association:

Eyeliner = ✨Time to slay the exercise sheet, baby✨

Every time I do my “academic warpaint,” I tell myself, "Now you’re a bad bitch with a pen. You are going to finish that exam review. You are not a person anymore. You are a Force." Repeat until your brain believes it.

Now the moment I put eyeliner on, it’s like my brain goes:

“Oh sh*t. We’re doing things now. Okay. Yes. Productivity time. Let’s go."

Like I’m a lil Victorian hound trained to do calculus when I smell setting spray.

✨ Step Nine: Glitter = Emotional Regulation Through Terror

Here’s the thing about glitter.

Glitter hurts. If I let myself cry during study sessions (which I always want to do), it gets in my eyeballs and suddenly I’m blind and emotionally unstable. So I don’t cry. I physically can’t.

Literally me:

Glitter is my emotional chastity belt.

Want to have a breakdown? Too bad. One salty tear and that iridescent speck of lilac becomes a shard of ✨eye glass✨.

Glitter stops the tears before they start.

I fear it. And fear is an excellent motivator.

I have trained my tear ducts to retract in horror when they see shimmer.

🍇 Step Ten: Make Room for Pleasure, You Little Gremlin

Listen. I know it feels like if you don’t study 8 hours straight, the gods will smite you, your grades will crumble, and your ancestors will disown you. BUT. You are a human being. With a brain made of sparks and soup, not steel. You need joy. You need dopamine. You need to give yourself a TREAT.

So let me say something that sounds like I’m running a hedonistic cult in a velvet robe:

“There must be pleasure in the pursuit of knowledge, or the pursuit will consume you.”

Yeah. Sorry. That just slipped out. Moving on.

🍬 PRACTICAL DEBAUCHERY (AKA TREAT TIPS):

🧃Scheduled snack breaks. Every 40 minutes of work = 1 offering to yourself. Could be a cookie. Could be three Pringles and a Capri-Sun. Could be a grape on a crystal plate. Luxury is a mindset.

🕹️Games are not a sin. You are allowed to play one round of Stardew, or 10 minutes of Tears of the Kingdom, or one match of whatever shooty game you like. Just set a timer or you will awaken three hours later like you were possessed.

📺Watch something dumb or something you like between tasks. Personally I like watching cursed YouTube videos about deep sea creatures or that one guy who screams about medieval cooking.

🧼Skincare = holy rite of reset. After a long grind session, go slap a face mask on and walk around like a swamp witch reborn. That is sacred. That is divine. You are replenishing your vital oils.

🧁Treats should be ceremonial. Finish a test? Get your favorite coffee and a cookie. Survived three classes in a row? You’re getting a croissant and no one can stop you. Every battle deserves a feast.

🪩 BONUS CHAOS TIPS:

Timers are my gods. I have one for everything. 40-minute work blocks, 10-minute breaks, even a 3-minute "cry and then move on" alarm.

I talk to myself like a Sims character. “Okay, now we go brush the teethies. And now we open the PDF, wow good job!!” It helps.

I romanticize everything. Studying is now a tragic montage. Fic writing is a forbidden affair. Cleaning my desk? Preparing for battle. Girl if it doesn't bring whimsy to me, it doesn't belong in my life. Point blank period.

Sticky notes everywhere. Sometimes they just say “remember you exist.” Which is helpful.

I regret to inform my mother… that she was right. Cleaning my room does make me feel better. Clearing my desk does make my brain work smoother. And yes, having “a place for everything” has, in fact, reduced my weekly breakdowns. I am living my life in smug, reluctant shame. You win this round, Mom.

Decorate your damn space. Listen. I am literally studying interior design. I know the psychology of environment. You think you're “just lazy”? No, babe. You’re trying to do Greek tragedy-level tasks in a crusty little corner of doom. Light a candle. Add a blanket. Put up a print that makes you feel like a vampire duchess or 90s hacker or mushroom witch. Your space should whisper “we do things here… powerful things.” If your desk is cute, you’ll romanticize using it. That’s just science. (Me, a scientist, allegedly.)

Designate a "sacred corner." This is your altar of productivity. Could be your desk, your bed, a cursed floor nook—doesn’t matter. Make it vibe. Put all your essentials there: water bottle, pens, tarot deck, stress rock, whatever. When you sit there, your brain knows: it’s time to slay.

Change the lighting. Change the vibe. You ever notice how you feel godless and insane under overhead lights? Yeah. Same. Desk lamp = focus mode. Fairy lights = writing fic while listening to sad girl music. Candle = cozy academia, maybe a little ritual sacrifice. (JK… unless?)

Color-code like your life depends on it. My calendar looks like a unicorn bled out on it. Blue = school. Red = deadlines. Purple = fic writing. Pink = self care. Black = Do Not Perceive Me Hour. Is it chaotic? Yes. Does it help me not forget I exist in 4 dimensions and have obligations in all of them? Also yes.

I need visual rewards. I am five. Finish a task? Stick a star somewhere. Literally. I keep a pack of star stickers and slap them into my planner like a proud Victorian governess. Sometimes I even get a treat (a cookie, a YouTube short, or emotionally-unwise 6 hours Witcher 3 game session). Be your own kindergarten teacher. With better shoes.

I keep a “brain vomit” notebook. Not everything needs to be organized. Sometimes you just gotta brain dump like a gremlin. I scribble ideas, half-finished dialogue, to-do lists, reminders like “get milk” or “Google if fish can feel shame.” It’s a mess. It’s beautiful. It saves me daily.

Give your tasks unhinged names. “Study History Chapter 3” becomes “Survive the Medieval Warlock Trials” “Finish math problems” becomes “Make sacrifice to the Algebra God” “Do dishes” = “Trial by combat.” Trick your brain into thinking it’s LARPing.

Assign personas for different tasks. Studying? You are now Professor Deathblossom. Cleaning? You are a sexy haunted Victorian maid. Fic writing? You’re a tormented poet in a windswept tower. You must become the drama to defeat the dread.

Set fake deadlines. Fool your future self. Tell yourself something’s due two days early. Lie. Boldly. Print out a fake syllabus and gaslight yourself into being prepared. Your chaotic brain will never see it coming.

Tell someone your to-do list out loud. Even if it’s your cat. ADHD brain forgets everything unless spoken into existence like a curse. I’ve explained my entire weekly schedule to my houseplants. They nod. I slay.

Make tiny rituals for everything. “Put on rings = writing time.” “Spray perfume = girlboss activation.” “Eat gummy worm = reward from the gods.” The sillier and more specific, the better. Your brain will eat that Pavlovian shit UP.

✨ REMEMBER:

You are not a machine. You are a little goblin child in human form trying their best with questionable time perception and an espresso dependency. Study like a scholar. Rest like a demigod. Play like a local forest spirit.

You are not weak for needing joy. You are wise. You are not lazy for craving reward. You are biologically motivated by shinies and snacks. You are not indulgent for resting. You are a creature of divine chaos and glitter, and you deserve softness between the storms.

So take your notes. Drink your coffee. Eat your cookie. Play your game. And then return to your academic altar, winged eyeliner sharp (or not), glitter intact, and ready to fight your assignments with all the fury of a caffeinated dryad.

🕯️ In Summary (Now with More Coffee and Denial of Satanic Allegations):

I do not study for school. I perform an unholy ritual of academic sorcery. I summon productivity by invoking the ancient spirit of a 2013 Tumblr goth who subsisted entirely on Monster Energy, eyeliner, and spite. If I cry, the glitter will eat me alive. If I don’t, maybe I’ll pass the test.

Balance must be maintained.

I do this with one (1) haunted lip gloss, 400mg of caffeine, and a vaguely threatening to-do list written in Sharpie on my thigh.

I am not a Satanist. Despite the rumors. Despite the eyeliner. Despite the small, lovingly curated shrine of offerings I leave for Eros, Artemis, Persephone, and Aphrodite that includes black candles, heart-shaped trinkets, rose petals, spell jars, and a frankly concerning amount of glitter.

(Look. One time—one time—someone overheard me say:

I’m goth,

I believe in ghosts cause I've had paranormal experiences

I don’t believe in Jesus,

I write smut,

I read tarot,

AND I casually mentioned Eros while sipping my third espresso of the morning—

And they went, “Ah yes. Satanist.” Because obviously, the only logical explanation for me being queer, hot, spiritual, spooky, and literate is pacting with the devil himself. Right? Makes perfect sense.

[TW: Just to be clear — I don’t think Satanism in itself is "bad". A lot of the stigma around it is based on misinformation, fear-mongering, movies, series, and media nonsense. This rant is about people assuming literally anything “non-Christian + cool” = Satan.])

So no babe, I’m not summoning demons to pass my exams and be some sort of stable girlboss. I’m manifesting A’s, romantic subplots, and main character energy with some candlelight, glittery offerings, and emotional damage. I am a Hellenistic pagan with flair, not a satanic cult leader. (Though I would be so good at it. Just saying.)

Anyway, I’ve got five pages of notes, 4 espresso shots in my bloodstream, and I just contoured my cheekbones into a hexagonal plane of reality. Wish me luck. I’m about to academically ascend — or combust. Whichever comes first.

If you want more tips, feel free to scream for me in the comments and I shall provide you with more!!