baratron: (ankh)
[personal profile] baratron
I am in a Right Fucking State at the moment. My mind is racing, I can't stop shaking and I want to scream. My limbs feel so heavy that it's physically difficult for me to type. Hell.

There are several reasons why I'm depressed, and they are all unrelated. I don't know if that's more or less annoying than when the reasons are related and you get locked into an emotional vicious circle. I'm not really in a state where I can analyse things like that *ironic grin*. I'm anxious, stressed, worried and down.

Of the major reasons, reason #1 is the utter mess I've got my PhD into. I've done no more work on it since the last time I wrote about it. Ralf (my supervisor) left a message on the answerphone at home on Monday asking me to call him on Wednesday (ie. today), so I did, and he was very abrupt with me. The answerphone message had been friendly, but today he was in a very bad mood. I guess I've utterly blown my chances at re-building bridges. He's tried and tried to get me through this and I've let him down time and time again. I am a fuckup.

One of the main reasons I've not been able to get on and finish my PhD is my low self-esteem telling me that I don't deserve to get the PhD, and this has caused me to go round in circles getting nowhere. But people at college have been trying to break me out of the vicious circle and it hasn't worked. I've ignored phone calls and emails and general outreach and just carried on on my own path of self-destruction.

I don't think there's any way out of this now. I don't have time to actually finish before the deadline imposed by the college and the research council comes up, even if I miraculously transform into a highly-motivated model student overnight (which isn't going to happen, let's face it). And my relationship with my supervisor is wrecked beyond repair. My chances of getting a decent reference out of him for a job are not high at all, which means not only am I unemployable because I've got all these paper qualifications but no practical experience, I don't even stand a chance with the few jobs that I am qualified for. How did I get into this state?

He wants to see me on Friday. Maybe I can redeem myself then, but I doubt it. My mood is too low for me to get anywhere.

Date: 2001-06-20 08:12 am (UTC)
djm4: (Default)
From: [personal profile] djm4
If it's any consolation, I fucked up my PhD in a pretty major way, and I fairly obviously didn't end up unemployable.

Obviously I don't know your PhD supervisor, but it doesn't sound from what you've said as though things have broken down irrevocably. He's probably tearing his hair out trying to get someone he knows is capable of doing the work (you) to actually do it. He may see being abrupt with you on the phone as one possible way of doing that. PhD supervisors are only human too.

Date: 2001-06-21 09:55 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] narenek.livejournal.com
My girlfriends supervisor pretty much threw her out of the lab when she finished her three year funding period. For a while he locked her account and said that she would have to ask him anytime she wanted to use his facilities (a brief natter with the local BOFH sorted that one out).

I'm pretty certain Ralph isn't that bad :-)

Date: 2001-06-20 09:33 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jinian.livejournal.com
Ow. I'm sorry. I don't think you're a fuckup, and I'm thinking of you. Hope that helps in some tiny way.

Date: 2001-06-20 11:46 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] elynne.livejournal.com
I don't know what I can write that would help, but I'll give it a shot. You're an excellent person, dear, with people who love you; you certainly aren't a fuckup. I understand (oh, how well I understand) the self-destructive drive to unconciouisly muck things up - it seems that the bigger the deal, the higher the stakes, the more thoroughly the imp of self-immolation tries to burn everything to the ground.

You aren't your PHD, or your final paper, or the total of your supervisor's opinions about you. You're much more than that. There are many of us out here who care about you, and who would help you if we knew how. Depression lies; it tries to drive everybody away, tries to destroy you inside, but it's all lies. Making a mistake (or three, or twelve) doesn't define you. I've made plenty of mistakes myself, some of them quite gloriously fucked up, but I'm not a fuckup. You aren't either.

I lack a closing thought that will put everything together nicely. Eh. Take care; I'm here on the sidelines, pulling for you.

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