Today marked one month into my PhD program. Today I also nearly didn't make it to class.
I woke up to my well-intentioned 6 am alarm, once again hoping I'd finally get my rear into gear and work out before the day's activities began. After all, I had been doing so well this summer and most of September establishing a regular exercise schedule - a key contributor to feeling healthy, positive, etc. Yet despite this knowledge and experience and everything, it hasn't been enough to counter a deeper urge, need, something to keep sleeping, maybe another 15 minutes, 30, 45, 60, or do I really need to get up this morning, today, tomorrow...
The rational, removed version of myself understands what's going on. I'm overwhelmed and scared to admit that I'm in this place and I want to stay positive but the effort it takes to try to put on a shiny-happy front is draining and %&@$, rational me gives way to the irrational. The negative feedback loop, which seems like a strangely positive spin on what can deconstruct into a deeply detrimental spiral of doom, is strong with this one.
While I eventually managed to lug myself out of bed and go to an 8:30 am section and lecture, I almost cried in the middle of the latter (and I eventually did when I got back home). I knew this transition would be hard, but I don't I appreciated how much it would rattle my sense of self and thus day-to-day functionality. Today was a punch in the face, and for most of the day, it fully bowled me over.
I miss feeling like I know what I'm doing, I miss having a good sense of what I need to accomplish each day (and actually make progress toward this). I miss feeling directly connected to clear(er) objectives, I miss feeling well, un-alone. I miss knowing I'm fully capable of achieving x by y, whereas now, I don't feel any confidence in saying "of course, I can finish this by time z." I miss a lot, and until I begrudgingly reached out to a few people today, I wasn't sure how to even start to work through this. I went home, cried, slept, and cried some more before taking a deep breath, and saying "Hey...I need some help."
Today I learned...
To lean hard on your people, especially amid the PhD doldrums. Even if it feels crappy to admit you need more than what you (or they) might expect on a given day. And even if 'doldrums' sounds like a bedazzled version of how you're feeling.
Today I'm grateful for...
Sarah Wulf, my PhD buddy. Thank you, endlessly, for listening and your wise words.
Today's best part was...
Amanda Smith, who gave me today, among many things, this card now prominantly displayed on my fridge: punch today in the face. Sure, today wasn't a good day, or anything close to good, but it also won't be a day that defines me. I'm punching it in the face, rather than vice versa, and moving on - or at least trying not to.
I woke up to my well-intentioned 6 am alarm, once again hoping I'd finally get my rear into gear and work out before the day's activities began. After all, I had been doing so well this summer and most of September establishing a regular exercise schedule - a key contributor to feeling healthy, positive, etc. Yet despite this knowledge and experience and everything, it hasn't been enough to counter a deeper urge, need, something to keep sleeping, maybe another 15 minutes, 30, 45, 60, or do I really need to get up this morning, today, tomorrow...
The rational, removed version of myself understands what's going on. I'm overwhelmed and scared to admit that I'm in this place and I want to stay positive but the effort it takes to try to put on a shiny-happy front is draining and %&@$, rational me gives way to the irrational. The negative feedback loop, which seems like a strangely positive spin on what can deconstruct into a deeply detrimental spiral of doom, is strong with this one.
While I eventually managed to lug myself out of bed and go to an 8:30 am section and lecture, I almost cried in the middle of the latter (and I eventually did when I got back home). I knew this transition would be hard, but I don't I appreciated how much it would rattle my sense of self and thus day-to-day functionality. Today was a punch in the face, and for most of the day, it fully bowled me over.
I miss feeling like I know what I'm doing, I miss having a good sense of what I need to accomplish each day (and actually make progress toward this). I miss feeling directly connected to clear(er) objectives, I miss feeling well, un-alone. I miss knowing I'm fully capable of achieving x by y, whereas now, I don't feel any confidence in saying "of course, I can finish this by time z." I miss a lot, and until I begrudgingly reached out to a few people today, I wasn't sure how to even start to work through this. I went home, cried, slept, and cried some more before taking a deep breath, and saying "Hey...I need some help."
Today I learned...
To lean hard on your people, especially amid the PhD doldrums. Even if it feels crappy to admit you need more than what you (or they) might expect on a given day. And even if 'doldrums' sounds like a bedazzled version of how you're feeling.
Today I'm grateful for...
Sarah Wulf, my PhD buddy. Thank you, endlessly, for listening and your wise words.
Today's best part was...
Amanda Smith, who gave me today, among many things, this card now prominantly displayed on my fridge: punch today in the face. Sure, today wasn't a good day, or anything close to good, but it also won't be a day that defines me. I'm punching it in the face, rather than vice versa, and moving on - or at least trying not to.
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