A dream is a wish your heart makes. It is not the way to a PhD.

November has been good.  It is one of my favorite months:  On the cusp of autumn and winter, a whimsy of colors, green, yellow, gold, orange, red trickling off of trees and tumbling down brown, the sky a distinctive, mercurial blue-grey sunny.  This November is particularly warm, which makes it more enjoyable, delaying the steely cold and barrenness that arrives in December, which I loathe.

I was happier, calmer, and more relaxed than I have been for a while.  I could just breathe.

I also finished my literature review.  Of course, it still needs work, it will always need work, but my new topic is developed and I am ready to proceed onward.

However, I encountered a problem that has been nagging me for six months.  This issue finally crescendoed with its realization, that the ugly gut-feeling I just given the side-eye is now a pink suede elephant sitting plumb in the middle of the room.

Worse, when I explain the situation and my unease, discreetly of course, it is met with nearly identical responses:  This is not good.

Without further detail, it just seems that when it comes to this PhD, shit comes from all sides.  Kind of like this:

I thought that writing might make me feel better.  Along with talking to my partner, my mother, my mentor, my friend.  But honestly, the whole situation has made me feel entirely demotivated and crestfallen.

This is a major problem.  Then there is student loan paperwork, open enrollment for health insurance, the holidays, sick relatives, and just everyday life handled completely on my own, I would give anything to just curl up under a blanket and just say, "I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't." Which is pretty much what I am going at the moment.

But then I start to feel indignant.  I put a lot of time, money, and effort into this dissertation and I simply refuse to acquiesce for the sake of making nice.  Nice, as another blogger states, does not get a dissertation done.

I become irritated when I receive the following replies from individuals who want to tell me they would like a PhD:  Because they think it is the "next thing" to do (terrible, terrible reason-- That is what master's degrees and graduate certificates are for) and because it is their "dream."

A dream is a wish your heart makes.  The PhD should never be a dream.  It is the means to a dream.  But let's be clear this is no dream.  It sucks a lot of the time.  It is one of the hardest things you will ever do.  Frankly, I am not sure what is worse, divorce or passing comprehensives.  The writing you once enjoyed in cafes will be replaced by writing that is scheduled, technical, and every word counts. It hangs in a balance of solitude and loneliness.  Clustered with an unstable market and prospects, there is little promise.

The dream should be entering a profession you feel you can make a meaningful contribution.  Perhaps even enjoy it.  That offers a means to a lifestyle you wish to achieve, whether it is world travel, family, reading, a home, or just even company health insurance.

Trust me, it does not look the way you think it looks when you get here.

Maybe I will better with a glass of wine and a good, scheduled cry.  Maybe tomorrow is another day.

Maybe a solution is the only answer I need.  

The kindest thing anyone has said is:  It's not your fault.  You're going to be fine.  You are going to make it.