Hi, it's me, Christa!
I haven't written in a while. In all reality, that tends to mean I am doing so well in life that I don't feel the need to put words on the internet for strangers.
Well, that ended.
If you've had a conversation with me about my classwork in the past few months (or really the past year or so), you know my program is not my favorite thing in the whole world. But it's definitely teaching me how to be strong and how to adapt to challenges and environments that I was not ready for. It's taught me how much I tend to take for granted in education.
And, praise God, I'll be done and walking across a stage in 59 days.
This last semester has been so hard. We are halfway through the last semester I will ever be a master's student and I am literally crying happy tears thinking about never having to write my thesis or edit my thesis or work through my newfound procrastination around my thesis again. Everything is due May 5 and that will be the best Cinco de Mayo of my life.
But this week? This week I just can't do a damn thing.
I open my laptop to fix the remaining two and a half chapters of my (so far) 77-page thesis document and just cry instead. Overwhelmed is an understatement. As much as I want it to be over and done with, I just can't get to that point. The edits are numerous. Don't let yourself think I wrote it perfectly the first time. Hell no. And some of the comments make sense and some of them leave me with more questions than answers. So that sucks.
So I switch and decide to work on the paper I have due next week for another class that is only allowed to be 5 pages and honestly quite few sources. Nope. Not a possibility. Instant nausea.
This shit ain't me. Ya know, to put it bluntly.
I wish I could say that there is an easy fix to this and all of the nasty feelings went away with one quick Taylor Swift jam session. But that doesn't give burn out the credit and awareness it deserves.
Yes, I turned on the Reputation Concert Movie on Netflix. And it made me smile. But I've only gotten as far as writing about how I can't write.
This semester has been one of my hardest... Not ever. I graduated undergrad at
the start of a global pandemic. But it's definitely in second place.
In January, I came back from Winter Break (full of thesis interviews) ready to get everything done. I honestly did not know I would still be working on my thesis until May. I started this project last March or April and I have been ready to put it to bed for months. I eventually learned that I would be working on this paper for the rest of eternity.
So I decided then and there that I would get so much thesis done in February that it would freak out my advisor. It would be incredible. It would be done and beautiful.
Lol.
Instead, in February, I started the month excited about a gala and ended that gala's evening in the ER. Yes, I fainted at the American Heart Association Fundraiser. It was incredibly mortifying and equally scary.
After that, I had a few follow-up cardiologist appointments. Between those experiences, I found myself supporting a loved one in the ER for severe panic attacks. Between those episodes, I managed to contract the worst strep of my life. Once my throat healed, I was convinced I had bedbugs due to some (turns out) larder beetles and (what looked like) bites in a line down my arms. After this, my family lost a dear friend- my mom's good friend. I attended the funeral and found myself extra hurt. I realized it is incredibly hard to see someone being laid to rest who is barely older than my own mom. It broke my heart for her children and made me scared for my own mother (regardless of her current health and our friend's hard-fought battle with cancer).
When I hung out with my friend on March 1, she literally said, "Christa, you did it! You made it to March!"
I explained this to my advisor and she told me that I would need to "stop doing things I enjoy and make my thesis a priority." That stung. That didn't help anything.
But, to prove the world and February wrong, I had a full rough draft done and emailed on February 28th. And the very next day my advisor skipped our meeting and barely apologized.
So, what I am trying to say through all of this is that grad school can seriously suck, but I know I'm not alone in this experience. But, I will do everything in my power to make sure future students never feel how I am feeling.
I will fight on their behalf so that they don't get sick from the stress of life. They shouldn't have to wake up dreading their classes. They shouldn't be so over it that they're calculating if they can graduate without doing their assignments (I can't).
This last semester has been hell, but I won't let this keep me from helping people in my position. It's not meant to be like this. Education isn't supposed to make me hate everything.
I love my assistantship and yet today I just did not have the patience or energy to work with the 60 visitors we had at our Tea for Two Tuesday event. This honestly scared me. I am known for being the energetic extrovert that flourishes on working with larger-scale events. And yet, today after I got off, I went straight to Domino's for a gluten-free pizza and a nap.
This threw off my productivity schedule for the week, but things haven't been going according to schedule in quite a while anyway.
This is burnout.
This is feeling like anyone but myself.
This is binging Netflix instead of chasing checkmarks in my planner.
This is getting overly frustrated by small work tasks.
This is waking up before my alarm knowing I should get things done today- but not.
This is craving the energy to do assignments.
This is constantly needing a nap.
This is losing all critical thinking abilities.
This is anxiety and depression.
This is waking up at 2:50 a.m. thinking my mom was dead.
This is crying when I can't think of a gluten-free snack that sounds good.
This is staying in bed until the very last minute.
This is thinking everything will be better when the sun comes out.
This is avoiding anything and everything that could add more stress to my life.
This is saying no to plans I know I would enjoy.
This is knowing I should talk about it but being overwhelmed by the process.
This is grad school.
This is wishing my advisor walked the walk they preach in class.
This is always having more to do.
This is watching the clock as I type this as I have a Zoom at 7.
This is commiserating with my cohort while none of us feel fulfilled or supported.
This is wishing things were better.
This is trying to learn from texts that say too little or too much.
This is stress dreams and graduation countdowns.
This is wanting to be done even though it means saying goodbye to great friends.
But it shouldn't stay like this. And I promise I will do everything I can to change it.
