If You’re Crying at 2AM…Burnout, the Bar, and Believing in Yourself

Every year, thousands of bar examinees walk the tightrope between determination and burnout. This piece was born not just from memory, but from a recent conversation — a mentee quietly broke down, and I remembered that night I did too. This isn’t a lecture. It’s a companion. A mirror. A warm hand on the back at 2AM, telling you: you’re not alone.

Anxiety is like a thief that arrives without a warning

I didn’t fret during the review. I was feeling positive about everything. Month after month, I was landing high in the mock bar rankings. On paper, I was peaking. Friends said I looked calm. I believed I was perfectly fine.

Then one night — out of nowhere — it hit me. Like a sweep of sudden dread. An inconsolable feeling of doom. No trigger, no warning. My heart started pounding, my chest tightened, and I couldn’t sleep. Thoughts were racing in my head, a flood of tears suddenly came rushing, and a sense of impending doom overtook my body at 2:00 A.M.

I cried — not because of a codal provision I forgot, but because anxiety arrived like a thief in the night, stealing away my sense of control. And that loss of control? That frightened me more than any question the exam could throw my way.

How did I survive that night? Still, I do not know.

But living to see the light of day the following morning taught me something that codals never did: Bar review isn’t just a test of mastery. It’s a test of self-mastery.

Have you had your 2 A.M. moment yet? The one that makes you doubt everything — even yourself? If you haven’t, it might come.

And if it does, remember this: You’re not breaking down. You’re breaking open.

Maybe you’re counting down too by now. But this is more than a countdown to test day; it’s a rehearsal for something bigger. You memorize the law. You outline jurisprudence. But no one teaches you what to do when anxiety wraps around your chest at midnight and won’t let go. If you’ve ever felt that way — like you’re doing everything right and still falling apart inside — this is for you.

What does anxiety feel like?

It’s not always what you expect. Sometimes it’s subtle. Sometimes it’s physical. Here are some signs to watch out for:

  • A pounding heart, even while doing nothing

  • Shortness of breath, or feeling like your chest is tight

  • Restlessness — the inability to sit, focus, or relax

  • Sweaty palms or cold hands

  • Nausea or stomach discomfort

  • Racing thoughts or mental fog

  • Feeling detached from your surroundings (a sense of unreality)

These are symptoms of your fight-or-flight system being activated. It's your body reacting as if there’s danger — when really, you're just alone with a reviewer in your room.

It sneaks in — when you're brushing your teeth, or lying in bed, or after acing a mock bar.

You think, “This shouldn’t be happening to me.” But it does. It did.

In my case, the anxiety was sudden, sharp, and overwhelming. The kind that shortens your breath. I didn’t know where it came from — there was no specific trigger. That made it scarier.

What helped was learning to catch it. Naming it. Breathing through it. Anxiety loses power when you don’t fight it — when you observe it.

You are not your anxiety. It’s a signal, not a sentence. Let it pass through, not take over.

Mind the Mind Spiral

Bar review glorifies discipline — and rightly so. But somewhere along the way, we started worshipping the myth of the machine: the bar taker who studies 12 hours a day, eats stress for breakfast, and operates without emotion or error.

What we don’t talk about enough is the quiet unraveling beneath the surface — the tears that don’t make it to social media, the panic that doesn’t fit into planner checklists, the self-doubt that creeps in even when your scores say you’re doing well. You are not a machine. You are a whole person. And success at the bar doesn't require perfection — it requires preservation.

Before your thoughts drag you into a “what if I fail?” spiral, pause, and reframe.

Bar exam anxiety isn’t just emotional. It’s neurological. Every time you mentally rehearse worst-case scenarios, you’re building neural pathways that make those fears more dominant. That’s where neurolinguistic programming (NLP) comes in — it’s about becoming conscious of your internal scripts and changing how your brain processes fear.

Reset your mind frame

What the mind conceives, the body achieves. Your words become your reality. It is important to control the narrative early on by:

  1. Noticing the pattern. Catch spiraling moments (e.g., “I haven’t studied enough”, “I’m not good enough”, “I’m not as good as my classmate”).

  2. Name it without judgment. “I’m telling myself I’m behind. That’s just a story. Not a fact.”

  3. Replace it with an anchored phrase. Create a phrase that calms and grounds you.:

    • “I am not in the bar exam yet. I am in a study session. And I’ve survived harder days than this.”

    • “This is just a mock bar. I can still improve.”

    • “I have been preparing for this my whole life.”

  4. Use physical anchors. Tap your wrist or place your hand on your chest while saying the phrase. Over time, the gesture becomes a physical cue for calm.

Know When to Step Back

Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is close the book.

“You don’t want to burn out before the real test begins.
— Atty. Edwin Sandoval

You think you’re falling behind. But your brain isn’t a machine — it needs space to breathe, reset, and remember. De-escalating doesn’t mean giving up. It means protecting your mental clarity. Walk. Nap. Water your plants. Pause the war. You’re not wasting time. You’re making time work for you.

Atty. Edwin Sandoval once reminded me earlier during the review not to push to the point of collapse. “Rest,” he said. “You don’t want to burn out before the real test begins.”

Sing. Watch. Be Silly.

Joy is not a distraction. It’s a cognitive reset.

In the thick of bar review, I once sang karaoke in my room — just one song, out of tune, at full volume. I also watched a dumb romantic comedy I had already seen five times. For a moment, I wasn’t a bar review machine. I was just… me again.

And here’s the surprise: I didn’t forget Civil Law because of it. If anything, I remembered better the next day.

Why? Because your brain retains more when it’s not drowning in cortisol. Laughter oxygenates your mind. Music regulates your heartbeat. A 20-minute comedy break is not a waste of time: it’s recovery. So don’t feel guilty for singing your heart out to Queen or SB19, watching your favorite Netflix series, dancing on TikTok to recharge, or eating out with friends.

Even the late criminal law luminary Judge Oscar Pimentel said in our first-year class: “If you want to memorize your codals — sing the provision.”

If your joy feels like rebellion — good. You are rebelling against the lie that suffering is the only way to succeed. You are allowed to feel good, even while preparing for something hard. Learning from the readings in political law on the right to privacy, “life is not only meant to be endured, but enjoyed.”

If you were to take the bar exam once, why not enjoy it. You will never pass this way again. Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.

Honor Your Rhythm — Sleep Included

Bar review is a marathon. The only way to last is to know your rhythm and protect it. I used productivity tools like the Pomodoro Technique, a time management method that breaks work into focused intervals, traditionally 25 minutes long, called “Pomodoros,” followed by a 5-minute break. After completing four Pomodoros, you take a longer break of 15 to 30 minutes. The method uses a timer to instill urgency, enhance focus, and reduce burnout—making it especially useful during intense study periods like bar exam prep.

Sleep isn’t a luxury. It’s a core part of cognitive function. You can’t retain what your brain didn’t get a chance to consolidate. Neuroscientists confirm REM sleep strengthens memory, and naps boost learning.

Build a routine

In my case, I built a routine comprising of:

  • 5:00 AM — Wake and first read

  • 7:00 AM — Breakfast and self-care

  • 9:00 AM — Focused study

  • 12:00 PM — Lunch

  • 1–2 PM — Nap

  • 2–6 PM — Review

  • 6 PM — Dinner

  • 8–10 PM — Final review

  • And by 10:00 PM — I stopped.

Naps are not laziness. They’re mini-reboots. Routine is not rigidity. It’s safety.

Protect Your Peace

Mute the chat group. Curate your feed. Stop comparing reviewer stacks or practice scores. You don’t need permission to log off.

But protecting your peace isn’t just digital — it’s spiritual and environmental too.

Build inner stillness however you can. That could mean:

  • Saying a short prayer before opening your codal

  • Taking 3 deep breaths at the start and end of each review session

  • Trying guided meditation or soundscapes to fall asleep

  • Creating a ritual: light a candle, play focus music, tidy your desk — a signal to your mind that you are safe to focus

Adjust your surroundings. If your space is noisy, wear earplugs. If it’s messy, clear just one corner. Small shifts create mental clarity.

And then, this: Stay away from people who bring chaos. Bar season is not the time to fix everyone’s life. Avoid drama. Exit the group chat with obnoxious arguments. Limit contact with those who drain you. Be kind, but firm.

Trust me. During the bar exams, your emotions will peak. And when that happens, you’ll need all the calm you’ve saved. So you need to conquer your tendency to panic, before panic conquers you.

Your peace is your fuel. Guard it like it’s part of your reviewer.

The late Dean Willard Riano also shared a lesson I’ve held close: Be proud of who you are and what you can be.” It’s a reminder that self-trust is as essential as study, and its starts by being at peace with yourself.

Seriously Mind Your Posture

Sit up. Support your spine. Stretch your neck.

During bar review, I ignored the small body signs — until they weren’t small anymore. I wish I had paid attention.

Now in my late thirties, I feel the consequences. So I’ll say this loud: Take care of your back. Your body is carrying your dreams.

Good posture isn’t just about avoiding back pain. It’s a signal — to your brain and to the world — that you are alert, grounded, and in control.

Physically, proper posture ensures that oxygen flows more freely throughout your body. When you’re slouched or hunched over your desk for hours, your lungs compress, making breathing shallow. This reduces your energy, weakens focus, and contributes to fatigue. Sitting upright with your spine aligned improves circulation and helps keep your brain awake.

Mentally, posture can influence how you feel about yourself. According to social psychologist Amy Cuddy, who is widely known for her research on "power posing", an upright posture is linked with increased confidence and lower cortisol (stress hormone) levels. Thus, simply adjusting your body can change how your mind performs.

Cognitively, your brain responds to posture as a feedback loop. Slouching often mirrors defeat or exhaustion — and your brain picks up on that signal. Standing or sitting tall, on the other hand, reinforces a mindset of capability and readiness.

In moments of stress, like cramming for the bar or reviewing difficult cases, try this simple shift: uncross your legs, plant your feet flat on the floor, roll your shoulders back, take a deep breath and look up, not down. This posture doesn’t just feel better — it tells your body, “I’m not overwhelmed. I’m here. I’ve got this.”

Final Words

 I was inspired to write this because one of the bar takers I am mentoring recently opened up about the pressure and anxiety they were feeling. It reminded me of my own story — that night I broke down with no warning, and still made it through. This post is for them, and maybe, for you too. If it helps even one person feel less alone — then it’s done its job.

You’ve probably heard it a hundred times: “Just trust the process.”

But the truth is, the process can feel terrifying. And lonely. And heavy. And sometimes, like you’re not enough.

That’s why you need to bring all of you — not just your brain, but your heart, your humor, your breath, your body. Because the bar isn’t just a test of what you know — it’s a test of who you are when no one’s watching.

And if you ever find yourself crying at 2AM, it doesn’t mean you’re weak. It means you’re already braver than most — because you showed up.

Self-mastery is part of bar mastery. The big day won’t just test your memory — it will test your mind, your rhythm, your peace.

So breathe. Stand tall. Study hard, but rest harder.

You’re not behind. You’re becoming.

If you’re feeling overwhelmed, exhausted, or isolated, this is for you—a safe space where your challenges are seen and your courage is honored. Together, we’ll walk through the darkness toward the light at the end of this difficult road. Because no one should have to face the bar alone. Let’s face it, and rise beyond it—side by side. #

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