Negin Dahya

The deeper I get into writing my dissertation, bringing me closer to completion and the terrifying and overwhelming reality of the job market, the more I face the realities of why doing a PhD is HARD. I thought I’d try to explain it, maybe as a reminder to myself about everything that comes with the work.

This may not be true for everyone (or maybe it is actually exactly true for everyone, PhD or not…), but so far the process has brought up a few hard realities to face: first, the uncertainty of the job market is so overwhelming that the excitement of possibly finishing my PhD (in the near future) is completely clouded by the sense of failure that might ensue in the face of academic unemployment; second, the nature of the work, being highly analytical, mostly independent and somewhat isolating, makes it difficult for me not to also be intensely internalized about all aspects of life and self; third, the reality of receiving criticism as an integral part of succeeding in academics, and the knowledge that you are never doing “enough,” can also manifest as the whole person (not just the work) also not being good enough.

To the first point, something people in all industries can understand, is the challenge of facing rejection after rejection (or often no word at all) after pouring your heart and soul into post-doc, sessional and full-time teaching appointments. Couple this with the uncertainty of where you might have to uproot your life to in order to pursue this career, and it’s not hard to understand why PhDs a) take so long to finish, and b) prolong completion to spend a little more time where they are, in my case contemplating if I’m sure I really want what’s next at all. Even with good part-time research and employment in-hand, in pushing forward anyway, I end up sitting with uncertainty and a degree of unwavering anxiety.

Meanwhile, the deep analysis employed in the doctoral work patterns the brain to process at an intensely high and detailed level, one that’s hard to separate from other aspects of  life, including your own behaviour, relationships,  apartment, and all the rest. And through it all, it’s difficult to talk about with anyone, because you’re actually still just trying to figure it all out (the work, the process, the emotions) for yourself. It doesn’t really make sense until it’s all down on paper, even though you’ve been living and breathing it in various ways for the past 4-6 years. It’s information overload at its finest.

This leads me to the last point, that no matter what you do, you never feel like you’ve done enough. So despite people around you telling you that your work is exciting, that your achievements are cause for celebration, and that the future undoubtedly looks bright, all I can see is how much more I should and could be doing.

Also, writing is just hard, even for a writer.

So I’m working on being patient, with myself and the fast-moving world around me, as I accept the slow and meticulous reality of completing this kind of work.