the sun has scorched my white skin. i didn't expose myself for long, but i guess it's been a while since i've been in this kind of sun. brutal. my chest and shoulder are sticky with sorbolene. it's hot. i suffocate outside and in. but inside it's my research proposal that stifles me. last night i was feeling better after reading over it so far. 'i'm well read' i brag to mark. and supervisor agrees. but then goes on to say some more cutting remarks in today's email. criticisms. what's my question? what's my fucking question? it's unclear. and without a question there's no point.
3 days to deadline. i want to quit. really want to quit. yet my anger for supervisor and her email will mean i finish it in spite of her. i'll finish it to say fuck off. though to actually say it would be nice right now. fuck off.
this not being the first time, and the feeling that my anger is repetitive makes me question 2 more years of this. seeing and speaking to friends doing creative things also makes me want to quit. i can write something. i can be creative. why am i doing this anyway?
losing faith in my self, my abilities, my coping. will i ever be good enough?
the anger is necessary!
ReplyDeletegrist to the mill!
today, unpacking in wagga i discovered a small index card inscribed: "finishing your phd is not a crisis. your life is still happening."
those words were very necessary at the time, it seems alien to me now that i needed to tell myself that every day for however long that card sat above my desk in my little flat (it was a while).
anger and doubt, they don't go away, but they can be - as you've said in this post - made useful.
welcome home!
ap
thanks ap. welcome to nsw! i'm feeling much better today. deleting 3000 words helps (now i have less to edit!), as does a bit of time, whinging, and conversation. still some way to go, but i'll just tidy what's there and submit it on friday.
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