cracking

I’ve had to cancel a trip this weekend to see my boyfriend.

That’s how bad things are becoming.

I used to have time to watch an hour of “tv” in bed before going to sleep but in the past week that little luxury has disappeared.

For the first four months of this year, I went to the gym four times a week. In the past month, I’d be lucky if I managed to squeeze two trips out of the week.

I have it on good authority that this isn’t the worst yet. It is to come.

Frankly, I’m over it.

I’m tired of feeling constantly stressed.

I’m tired of constantly thinking about the thesis, even if it’s a nagging, annoying voice at the back of my head.

I’m tired of being in constant fear that the thesis will not be good enough or that I will never complete it.

I’m tired of being constantly on the verge of tears.

I’m tired of constantly juggling so many different priorities and activities that can never truly be reconciled.

I’m tired of feeling constantly paralysed from all this fear, anxiety and stress to the point of feeling catatonic half the time and completely unworthy the other half.

They really should have a health warning on PhDs, but they don’t. Meanwhile, I feel ready to be institutionalised into an asylum. I’m ready to crack.

  

social zombie

I have just consciously realised that I’ve become a social zombie.

While I can manage pleasant innocuous conversations, such as:

you: How are you?
me: I’m fine. How are you going?
you: well thanks. isn’t the weather lovely?
me: yeah… it’s nice out in the sun.

that’s about all I can manage.

I can’t quite bring myself to be interested in anyone, or anyone else’s life. My mind is either too preoccupied with the all-imposing, all-embracing, never-ending nature of my own work, i.e. the PhD, or I’m actively trying to blank out my mind, albeit temporarily, to the extent that I can’t activate my cerebral capacities to engage in anything more than the most mundane of conversations.

Conversely, I also don’t want to talk about myself right now. My life at the moment rotates around the PhD and that is far too depressing and stressful a subject to even broach. There are few things that might stand independently apart from the PhD, not even my relationship since any discussion of that will inevitably lead to discussions about the future and the future, unfortunately, is inherently bound up with the PhD. You might suggest “shopping”, an activity that I have previously very much enjoyed and revelled in but sadly, given the priority that needs to be accorded to the PhD right now, I can’t say that I’ve actually gone on a “proper” shopping trip in ages. I can barely squeeze out time to go buy groceries let alone indulge in a luxurious shopping expedition. If and when I do manage to find time to wander around the shops, the experience has been less than satisfactory for quite a while now given how distracted, nay colonised my mind is by the PhD.

So I find myself a social zombie, unable to converse, uninterested in asking about “you”, preferring instead to just sit and stare in silence.

  

It’s been a while since I’ve written a blog post. It’s been difficult, if not outright impossible, to do so. On the one hand, I’d like to say that there is so much going on in my life right now but in reality, there is really only one thing that has dominated my entire existence for the past few months and will continue to do so for months to come: the PhD thesis.

I’ve started writing the long anticipated document. I have about a fifth of the 100,000 words required. It’s been a slow slog getting here but at least, I think I am moving in the right direction. Writing is harder than I thought it would be. A lot of effort and reading goes into every word that is produced and just when you think you might finally have a grasp on things, you discover that there is yet more to do. There is always more and more you could, and need, to do… It’s exasperating. It’s sometimes demoralising. It’s always tiring.