Feeling Blue-da-ba-dee-da-ba-daaaa

When you start out doing a PhD everyone tells you it will be one of the most difficult things you've ever done. Your motivation will fluctuate and there will be times when it will be a constant struggle to keep working towards the finish line. You're told that you will be sick of the sight of your data, your supervisor and your writing and you will slowly lose your soul, becoming disillusioned with the whole thing after having nothing else but your thesis to focus on for three solid years.

At the very beginning of a PhD it's difficult to comprehend these sentiments and near impossible to believe that this is how things are going to turn out for you because the longest project you're likely to have worked on will have been a only been few a months long. The end was always in sight with these projects and you always had other deadlines, lectures and exams to divide your time between. There really is no way to know how soul destroying a thesis can be until you're half way through and by that point it's too late to turn back and choose not to start it in the first place.

Since coming back from the conference (where I had two lovely weeks off) I have spent a week jet-lagged and a week unwell. That's another two weeks where I didn't really get much PhD work done other than firing off some e-mails and submitting an ethics form for my last study (yes, LAST...eek). It's now Monday afternoon of week three and I just couldn't get myself out of bed and into the office this morning, despite my grand plans to be there first thing to finish my analysis and kick start the right up of another chapter. Granted I didn't sleep well last night but after resetting my alarm 5 times it was only 9am, there shouldn't have been anything stopping me from going in and getting on with my ever growing to-do list. Instead I sat and moped on the sofa drinking cup after cup of tea, watching back-to-back Scrubs and wondering why I didn't feel in any way guilty that I wasn't working on my thesis all hours of the day like I know I should be... I just don't know what to do with myself and I can't even muster up enough concern to snap myself out of it and get back to work. At the moment, I quite frankly couldn't care any less.

When I think about the amount of work that I still need to do it really is quite an overwhelming list. I can make an intellectual guess at how long it is all  likely to take but rather than freaking out and realising that I should get a move on get on with it all it's almost like I'm completely detached from the whole thing. 'The Fear' has left the building leaving behind 'The Bemused' who, frankly, isn't that helpful in motivating me to start working at all, let alone flat out like I need to.


I'm not quite sure how to kick this little doom and gloom cloud that seems to be hovering over me. I'm hoping something will come and blow it away, and fast. I may feel like I want all this PhD malarky to be over, to be scroll  hand with the initials after my name but I know that it's going to take a lot of time and a painful amount of effort to get there and it won't happen all by itself. My effort may have gone on an extended vacation but time is ticking on regardless and I know I'm just wasting the days I have left each time I give in to my indifference and press 'play' on the DVD.

So, I will join all the voices of previous scholars who started the quest to become a Dr, warning anyone thinking of doing the same that it WILL feel like it's never going to end, you WILL want to give up, and there WILL be days, weeks, months where you simply just don't care anymore. BUT part of me is still hopeful that I'll also be able to join the same voices in a couple of years time to be able to say that it's all worth it, you come through those difficult times and you pull it all together....

fingers crossed, eh?