The PhD journey so far...

When I applied for my PhD I knew that getting it entailed myriad obstacles and challenges. I knew that it meant at least 3 years of borderline poverty, missing out on many of the adventures and acquisitions of our peers including home buying, holiday making, furniture, clothes, eating out and buying nice wine and many other little luxuries. Even the simple things like having health insurance (which should be totally unnecessary in Australia but that’s a whole other post!) and going to Womadelaide are on hold for 3 years. I also knew that it would be a mental and emotional rollercoaster of epic proportions, with tight deadlines, high expectations, insane hours, tedious writing and planning, and any amount of stress you can name. All in the quest for the ultimate prize – a PhD.

But ‘knowing’ those things, and experiencing them, are two so completely different things disconnected from the reality of each other, that I wonder about really ‘knowing’ what I was getting myself into in the first place. The material compromises have definitely been hard, I can’t deny it. It’s a strange kind of sensation watching your friends and loved ones go about their lives and achieving great successes and great gains both professionally and personally. I am insanely happy for them, there’s really nothing quite like watching the grin spread across your friends’ faces when they buy their first house, or learn that they’re expecting a baby, or are about to embark on a fantastic world trip, or are going from strength to incredible strength in their career. But there’s also something dark and forlorn in my heart at the same time, I call it a little jealousy wrapped up in guilt. I miss being able to just buy that dress because I like it, or just drink that bottle of wine because it’s delicious and not have to worry too much about the price (within reason of course!). And although I’m certainly not ready for the whole baby question yet, I’m certainly sad that despite our reticence in becoming fully fledged adults and embarking upon traditional paths of house buying and furnishing and getting promotions, there’s a very tangible sense of missing out a bit.

But way beyond that is the mental and emotional rollercoaster the past 5 months have represented, and wow what a ride. The dizzying highs of enlightenment and achievement, the soul destroying lows of self-doubt and inadequacy. The workload started out seemingly achievable, reasonable even, and then time started ticking by and before long it seemed like there was still half a mountain left to climb and not enough time or energy to do it. I was stuck on Everest without an oxygen tank or a Sherpa. And on top of it all my thermals were starting to look a little threadbare. Yep, the study strategies I had relied on in the past to keep me from sinking were suddenly becoming woefully inadequate and irrelevant. On top of all the work, I needed to learn a new set of time and data management strategies and coping mechanisms.

Now I’ll be honest, time management has never been my strong point. I can write a list and fill in a diary like a pro, but I am a procrastinator of the highest order. I can utilise substitution and diversion tactics like you wouldn’t believe! Dishes and vacuuming suddenly become attractive, running errands suddenly becomes urgent, and doing some exercise becomes my highest priority. Because after all, if I’m not studying, then I need to be doing something productive that is benefiting me. Something worthy. Something noble. Something…. Well, anything really. It’s no accident that my camera battery is constantly running low – my photographic odysseys around the backyard and neighbourhood are becoming more and more frequent. All in the name of avoiding study… er, I mean, advancing my knowledge and skills as a photographer. Because it’s a worthy substitute, right?!?!

But in all seriousness, no one could have prepared me for the hardest part. The times when even a photographic odyssey can’t salve the conscience. The times when you doubt yourself so much that you feel ready to give it all away and mop floors for a living because that’s all you feel capable of. You see, a PhD challenges you in a way that no amount of reassurances from your friends or family can ever quite counter. The expectations are high, and though everyone assures you that you’re smart and capable enough because hey, they gave you the scholarship after all, there’s that nagging feeling that any moment now someone is going to discover you for the fraud that you are, jump up and shout ‘aha! You’re not smart enough for this at all! What are you doing here?! Get back to mopping floors where you belong’! (not that mopping floors requires no intelligence, and in fact it’s a very valuable job and I’d just like to give a shout out to the millions of cleaners that do a thankless job and keep the world functioning). You read books and articles every day that use a language that you can’t fathom. They understand things that you don’t, and try to explain them in a way that usually just makes it even worse. And everyone else seems to get it, so why don’t you?! You start to wonder what you’re even trying to achieve with your research, and wonder whether it will ever even get off the ground because all of a sudden it looks so amateurish and irrelevant. SO you wander morosely through each day kicking yourself for thinking you’d be able to do it.

Thankfully these moments pass, and you become rational again and realise that it’s all part of the process of learning. It’s an academic apprenticeship after all, and what apprentice knows everything at the beginning?!?! And so you soldier on, hoping that you stay logical enough to write something sufficiently coherent to hand up to your supervisors. And you fumble along ever closer to that point midway through your first year where you try to get approval for your research by pretending like you know what you’re doing, by fake-talking the talk, and fake-walking the walk. After all, fake it til you make it right?! And this is where I’m at now, having turned numerous corners both academically and personally, overcoming physical and mental and emotional barriers to this point where it all culminates in a 10,000 word proposal that all the ‘high up’ people look at, pass judgement on, and deliver their verdict.

I predict a rapid repeat of the familiar oscillation in my near future. Lows and highs, I’m ready for you. I think.