On What Was Supposed to be My PhD Deadline

 Today is the day I was supposed to submit my PhD and today is also the first time I considered quitting my PhD. I had submitted my first draft in mid-April and my supervisor got back to me at the end of May asking me to consider an extension. I agreed, because I was not happy with my work either. I then spent June pondering changes to my theoretical framework along the lines suggested by my supervisor. Her response was the changes were old wine in a new bottle and were not far-reaching enough. I have three months more, but I am well aware that those three months can rush by. This afternoon, my mind considered all the scenarios that I hadn't ever considered before. Each one more distasteful than the others. The first scenario was asking for a one-year extension and basically rewriting my thesis. I dismissed it because I don't have the stamina for it. The second one was to quit and chuck four year of blood, sweet, tears and intense isolation down the drain. The third option was to take my chances and submit my PhD without any further inputs from my supervisor, and effectively burn bridges with her. Surviving in academia after that would be next to impossible. Maybe considering quitting or worse is a rite of passage in a PhD. Maybe you haven't pushed yourself enough without it. Well, in that sense, the penny has dropped. 

Off To Brighton

 Tomorrow, I leave for Brighton. I went back to the post I wrote on my last night in Brighton in December 2019. I was girding myself for the last 6 months of my PhD and the uncertainty of PhD life. Little did I know how differently things would pan out and that I would spend the next 18 months sequestered in Bristol and still not be done with my PhD. I had a meeting with my supervisor which left me a little confused, which is not an encouraging sign at this stage of my PhD. I am hoping that the sea air will clear the cobwebs that have grown in my had in the past 18 months and bring news ideas and inspiration. My job search and my struggles to nail down my PhD have been a humbling experience. But being humble and being kind to yourself and not mutually exclusive. Recognizing that you are magnificently flawed and that one of your flaws is overconfidence in your intellectual ability is a key aspect of humility. To say, to yourself that "yes, I am prone to overconfidence, and I will try to be more self-aware about it, but I won't beat myself up when life cuts me down to size" is a wise approach. I know this post abruptly changed tack, but that is the advantage of writing a blog that nobody else reads. So, its onwards to Brighton, with new hope and good cheer. 

Close Friends

 I was talking to a friend yesterday, and some interesting themes emerged during our conversation, which I will mull over in the coming weeks. But, one thing that came to me as a micro-epiphany is having close friends makes a huge difference, however infrequently you speak to them because their existence reassures you that you deserve love and friendship. It is easy to see loneliness as the result of a character flaw rather than a mix of personality and circumstances. We cannot always change our circumstances, but we can always change the stories we spin from them. 

Another Job Rejection

 I got a rejection from Bristol Uni today. And, just as I have after every job rejection I have got in the past nine months, I felt lighter. One less thing to worry about and it wasn't a job I was particularly keen on either. It was a precarious job in a snooty discipline in a snooty uni. At the same time, I know I would have regretted it if I hadn't applied for the job. I am glad I applied and I am not particularly torn by the rejection. Yes, the money would have been the nice, and the G-shock, and the new Kindle, and the new jacket will have to wait. Yes, have a profession would have improved my online dating prospects. Yes, I fear idleness after I submit my PhD thesis. But, idleness also forces you think creatively, consider options you may not have considered before, be more open to life. Idlenss can also be a time of reorientation, of self-discovery. And, after everything that has happened in the past 18 months, this feels trivial in comparison. And, as I keep reminding myself, all the turning points in my life--going to ACJ, going to ISS--were not turns of my choosing. I wouldn't have gone down those paths if I had got my first preference, and I can't thank my stars enough that I didn't get my first preference. I am doing my best, while also being open to what fate has in store for me. What more can I do? 

PhD: Nothing Is Sacred

 Today, I jettisoned another section of my thesis which at one point I thought was a key part of my overall argument. Last week, I had decided to ditch what I once thought was the core of my conceptual framework. I had spent weeks. I had sent weeks, if not months, on each of them. I am at that stage of my PhD where nothing is sacred, and everything is expendable in the interest of coming up with a coherent arguement. It doesn't matter how long I spent over it or how original I think it is. If it doesn't fit, it goes out. It is telling that my first thought was how many words I would lose. I suppose, I, subconsciously, equate length with substance, like I am sure many people do. Word counts are a popular marker of progress but sometimes I feel the more words you have, the more scope to muddle your argument. In any case, I am being very ruthless with my work now because I feel I am at that stage where ruthlessness is merited. If one was ruthless at any early stage, one wouldn't be able to get any words down on paper. but, in the final stages, when one is trying to connect all the parts into a coherent whole, the parts don't fit must go in the bin. Not an actual bin, because they can sit in a Word file waiting to be used in the future. 

Working 12 Hours A Day in the Final Lap

 This evening, I was listening to a recording of my last meeting with my supervisor, in which she said, "The final stages of the PHD are like this: 12 hours of work, 12 hours of sleep until you have a better draft". Which is approximately twice my current working and sleeping run rate. I do remember a time when I could work 6-7 days a week to meet a pressing deadline but those days feel like they are from another lifetime. I have been suing the Pomodero technique to put in 5 hours of work a day, 5 days a week, and that feels like the upper limit of my ability. but, my PhD is moving and that is what is important. I have enough time to worry about whether I write too slowly for academia's publish or perish culture. Now is not the time to do that. I have to trust my writing process and trust that it will take me past the finishing line. Finishing the PhD is very important to me, but so is my mental well-being. I don't have a support network to lean on in Bristol, I am my own support network. I don't have anyone else to comfort me, reassure me that things are going fine, so I will just have to do that myself. Be the friend/loved one/lover I wish I had next to me right now. 

SOAS Job Falls Through

 So, it turns out SOAS will not be opening this particular job to foreigners after all. My first reaction was relief that I won't have to go through the trouble of applying and waiting or think about what I will do if I get shortlisted and, god forbid, selected for both the Bristol and SOAS jobs. One less thing for me to overthink. I am in the position where I have to apply for jobs because I don't want to be idle after i submit my thesis, but I also feel relieved when those jobs fall through. I am not someone who can let go completely and go with the flow. I won't feel good about myself if I don't apply for positions I think I have a decent chance with and which I wouldn't mind doing. I am not a sitting-on-my-ass kind of  guy. Neither am I a type-A person who steadfastly pursues my ambitions. I try to make my way but I am open to getting lost, and being led by fate to unknown pastures.

Rapid Covid Tests and Performativity

Rapid Covid tests are a scam. They only detect high viral loads and return a high number of false positives and false negatives. So, what purpose do they serve? Performance. It allows the public to go through the motions of testing, which is reassuring in itself. I can personally attest to feeling reassured after doing a rapid test this evening, despite knowing that they are essentially useless. The other more sinister purpose is it allows the people in charge to feel that they are taking measures to prevent Covid as they encourage people to return to their workplaces. Rising levels of infectino can then be blames on people not getting rapid Covid tests frequently enough. Throughout the pandemic, the measures recommended to contain the pandemic were the easiest and cheapest to do. They were replaced with more effective but more cumbersome measures only when the evidence against their efficacy became overwhelming. For instance, they first told us to wash hands, which is the easiest thing to do. When it became apparent that that wasn't going to be anywhere near enough they told us to keep 2 metres apart. Both measures are much easier to implement than ensuring proper ventilation, which is the most effective but least discussed prevention measure. 

Vipassana

 Today, started on a hairy note and continued that way for most of the day. I woke up to the sound of Betty coughing her lungs out, and she wouldn't stop. Immediately, my mind jumped to the conclusion that Betty had caught the super-contagious Indian strain of Covid and would pass it on to me if I wasn't careful. i cursed Betty for finding a new way to torment me, and the My anxiety levels remained high through the day, not aided by the fact that I wasn't able to work on my thesis. Towards evening, I started feeling a little cold, and immediately I thought I had caught Covid even though I wasn't feverish. I was struggling to find ways to relax, or at least distract myself. So, after dinner I decided to "sit with my anxiety"--just sit cross-legged with my eyes closed. I wasn't focussing on anything, not even my breath although the yoga training would kick in from time to time and my attention would turn to my both. I didn't set a stopwatch or a timer, simply noting what time I had sat down. I felt at peace during the 18-odd minutes that I sat there--free of any expectations, divorced from all forms of stimuli, just being. As Adrienne would call it, moments of exquisite stillness. And, then I remembered the 10-day Vipassana course I had attended 10 years ago to find relief from my persistent headaches. Many people who take the rigorous meditation course report magical benefits, but that had not been my experience. However, I had really enjoyed the one-hour recorded lectures by the founder of the school that they would play for us evening. Sure enough, the lectures are on youtube, so I decided to play the first day's lecture. As luck would have it, I heard Betty arrive home in the middle of the lecture and promptly start grizzling as though testing my equanimity. I managed to get through the lecture, despite's betty's interruption and even enjoyed it. I have resolved to meditate for 20-30 minutes every morning or evening, based on Vipassana teachings. I don't have any lofty goals, but I could definitely use more peace in my life. Let's see how that goes. 

Radical Uncertainty

 Two days ago, I saw a job opening that enthused me for precisely 12 hours, most of which I spent sleeping, because I discovered it was not for foreigners. I was disappointed but after all that has hapened over the past 16 months it seemed like a minor quibble. Today, to cut a long story short, i was told that they are re-examining their ban on foreign applicants. How does one deal with such an uncertain existence? Where hope and dejection dance together every day. In such a world, it is difficult to even decided which outcome is good or bad, because who knows what is lurking behind that outcome. The only thing to do is to try not thinking about the future and to soldier on. 

In Defence of Passive-Aggresion

 I don't advocate for a moment being passive-aggressive in your dealings with people close to you. PAness in this context can be corrosie. But, there is a case to be made for being passive-aggressive with people not close to you in some situations. In such situations, being passive breeds resentment against the people who have pissed you off, but, more importantly, resentment against yourself for not standing up to them. ON the other hand. aggression for the sake of salvaging self-respect is a risky move. If the other person doesn't take too kindly to it, the war sirens go off. If you are conflict-averse like I am, that's not a preferable situation at all. On the other hand, one can avoid the resentment that comes with passivity and the risks of a full-blown conflict. one can convey displeasure but not in such strong terms that you cannot plausibly deny it. And, you don't go to war with the person. And, I'm a bigger supported of being PA in your actions rather than words. I will leave you to guess how I practice this in my house. 

Four-Year-YWA and Counselling Anniversary

 When life is tough, it is important to celebrate milestones that remind you of how far you have come. Today is four years since I did my first Yoga with Adrienne session, which was also the day I had my first counselling session. Both have had a profound impact on me, and YWA continues to be a part of my life. On previous anniversaries, I wondered how long I would continue with YWA and whether I would shift to something else. I can confidently say that I have no plans of quitting YWA any time soon. 

I am struggling to finish my PhD, my housemates are yanking my nerves, post-PhD life is a blank slate, my shoulder has been troubling for a year, and Covid has made the loneliness and isolation of PhD life five times as worse. So, today, is a good day to remind myself that I will get through this because I have gotten through worse. I wasn't sure whether the dark clouds in my head would ever clear, I wasn't sure whether I would feel anything but anger towards a loved one, I wasn't sure if I would return to the UK to finish my PhD, and I wasn't sure if I would ever feel happy again. As lousy as I feel right now, it doesn't compare to the hopelessness and desperation I felt four years ago. Neither YWA nor counselling worked like magic. It required me to tap reserves of diligence, persistence and patience I never knew I had. And, it taught me the importance of keeping the faith in turbulent waters. The answer to all the questions plaguing me four years ago was as a resounding yes. I will overcome my present tribulations too. 

Housemate Hassles

It feels like my housemates find a new way to annoy me everyday. The bumpkin from Slovakia has a heavy footprint--he treats the common spaces in the house as his own. It was tolerable until it was just him, but now the new housemate, who is an Irish yob is just as bad and filthy to the boot. He keeps leaving teabags in the sink. And, Betty, is well, being Betty. I haven't hit breaking point yet, but my breaking point is quite high given that I am in the final few months of my PhD. It doesn't help that this house sans housemates is perfect for me. I can't imagine what it must be like to live in a chawl, or worse a refugee camp. People constantly butting their elbows in your ribs. Annoying habits, annoying voices and annoying personalities. There is nothing to be done in my current situation. I can keep debating internally about which issues to bring up with them, and which to let go, but it will get me  nowhere and only increase my frustration. I have to keep me eye  on the ball,  which is finishing my PhD thesis. Housemate hassles is the small stuff in the grand scheme of  things. Who knows, maybe a few months from now, none of the terrible trio  will  even cross my mind. 

Vaccine, Anxiety or Covid

I woke up in the middle of last night to the sound of betty weeping on her way to the toilet. Sounds of sex and wailing are enough to knock the sleep out of my eyes, but I still managed to get some shut-eye. But the day got better as I made good progress with my PhD and the rapid Covid test turned out negative. However, in the late afternoon, a headache came on and I could feel my energy levels flag. Was this the vaccine kicking in belatedly, was it my anxiety rearing its ugly head or was it Covid. I popped a crocin and felt better but then my stomach took a turn for the worse. |How can one experience so many physical symptoms and mood swings in the matter of a day? But there is nothing to do but soldier on and soldiering on I am. I know not living in the same house as Betty will significantly reduce my stress and anxiety levels but the thought of moving during the final stages of my PhD fills me with dread. On a positive note, I am getting better at salvaging sleep from the jaws of a sleepless night. I will never sleep like a log, but at least I don't feel as groggy I would have after a sleepless night. When you are doing all you can and doing more would require too much effort, there is nothing more to do. 

Test and Trace Horror

Tomorrow was to be the first day of a three-week-long superhuman effort to finish the theoretical portion of my PhD. So, imagine my dismay when a friend told me that she had been notified by the NHS Test and Trace app that a person she had been in contact with had tested positive for Covid. Its been a few months since I was last worried about catching Covid myself. all my angst has been to do with the slow progress of my PhD. Now, Covid is jostling for space in my angst folder again. Soon, I will have to be ready for the possibility that one of my housemates will test positive for Covid, forcing me to self-isolate. and, all this on top fo the fear that I will catch Covid myself. Not ideal conditions for a last thesis push. but conditions haven't been ideal for a year and a half now and won't be ideal for goodness knows how long. I will just have to get on with my PhD. I feel a quiet determination to finish and do a great PhD. All I have to do is translate that into action. If this pandemic teaches us anything it is to cultivate tunnel-like focus. The ability to focus on a task in the midst of imminent doom.

First Jab

 I got my first Covid jab today and so far, I haven't suffered any side-effects apart from a slight soreness in my left arm. It has been about 11 hours since I had the jab so side-effects should have started to show by now but you never know. There is a psychological aspect to it because one is expecting to feel ill. That might lead one to either exaggerate or downplay symptoms. As someone who suffers from mild anxiety, if the vaccine side-effects fall within the range of my anxiety symptoms they won't even register. I don't feel anxious every time I feel a light-headed because I know its one of my anxiety symptoms. There is now an anxiety barrier that physical symptoms need to cross before they get flagged as a matter of concern. 

Toxic People

 So, yesterday, Betty had a guest, and while there was no bonking there was enough loud talking to disturb my sleep throughout the night. It made me start to regret the kind email I had sent the previous day after betty told us about her sexual assault. That is what toxic  people do. They try to make you feel ashamed of that which is noble and good in you. You begin to think of kindness as weakness, empathy as a handicap. The only way to deal with toxic people is to have as little to do with them as possible. That doesn't mean that one shouldn't shown kindness towards them. But, one should not too much kindness and invite them into one's lives. I did not offer to help Betty, I simply expressed sympathy. I am not a person who doesn't react when someone tells them they have been raped. And, I don't want to be such a person.

Break Away

 I have had it up to my tits with my housemates. Everyday the find some fresh way to annoy me. Their transgressions are not significant enough for me to complain, but annoying nonetheless. One of my housemates is crazy, another is dirty and the third one treats the common living spaces as his own. And, all of them have loud voices. Right now, I can hear loud voices from the room below mine as well as the room next to mine. Its as thought they are in a secret competition over who can annoy me more. I realised how much I needed a change of scene when Asha Bua invited me to Brighton. Covid cases are on the rise and its not the best time to be travelling, but I rally need this break. My PhD is crawling too, and I could use a change of scene. I haven't been out of the Bristol Area since the christmas of 2019 and if I miss his chance that might not change till the Christmas of 2021. So, I realise that the Covid news is going to get worse with every passing day, but I have decided that I am going to hold my nerve and go to Brighton unless the government or Asha Bua change their minds. I will take all possible precautions--travel in the middle of the week, always have a mask on, spend the least possible amount of time in the bus terminal. But, I really need this break.

Betty's Trauma

 This morning, I woke up to a mail from Betty saying she was being unfriendly because she had been sexually assaulted and being around men was triggering for her. As I was getting ready for uni, an ambulance arrived at our door. Apparently, Betty had called for one in the night, and they hadn't gotten around to seeing her until around 6:30 am in the morning. They were still there when I left for uni, but Betty seemed okay. I was a bit shaken up by the incident, but it soon wore off. I am also feeling more kindly towards Betty. She didn't have to add me to the mail because I haven't spoken a word to her since the incident so it wasn't me who had tried to be friendly towards her and been rebuffed. I knew Betty's mental health was a mess, and she had suffered some trauma. With young women, the common for of trauma is sexual violence. But, telling someone something they already knew or had guessed is not a futile gesture. It indicates trust and also that you respect that person enough to confide in them because your behaviour is affecting them and you care about them. I replied to Betty saying 'sorry to hear that, thanks for telling us, take care, etc. Betty and I will never be friends, and I will continue to keep a watchful distance. But, at least the frost has thawed a bit. I realize I am making this all about myself. but, I think this is all I will hear about Bettys sexual assault. 

Change of Gear

 I felt like I was stuck in tur with my introduction, so I decided to change tack and move to my conceptual chapter, Sure enough, I was able to make progress. It is an abiding rule that in a large project when you get stuck on something move to something else. In hindsight, maybe I should have started with the conceptual chapter. But, letting something unfinished is hard, and one only makes such a move when one is at wit's end. It is also astonishing how swiftly I go from brimming with confidence and momentum to feeling down in the dumps. It can happen in a matter of hours, as it did today. Its important not to read too much into either. Feeling upbeat doesn't mean the war is over, and feeling gutted doesn't mean the war is lost.

Discovering the Pleasure of Baths

 After living in Europe for almost six years, I used the bathtub for the first time today. Now, I can't believe it took me so long to discover the pleasure of soaking in water. Actually, it was a mini-bath because it started as a shower and I decided to push the bathplug in mid-way. Now, instead of my Sunday evening hot showers after I you-know-what I am going to have a bath. A hot shower in winter when its cold and dark is relaxing, not so much in summer with the sun blazing through the window. Today, I was feeling worried about finishing my PhD on time. after soaking a tub for about twenty minutes, I felt much better. So, its going to be cold showers and hot baths from now on. Baths are too much of a luxury to have more than once a week. And, I come from a country where showers are a luxury, and most people have bath with a bucket. But, once a week is an indulgence I can allow myself without worrying that I am destroying the planet. 

Perversion

 I read an interesting article about perversion today. What is perversion? The denial of some aspect of reality coupled with objectification, dehumanization and exploitation. The article interviews an author who wrote a book titled 'The Age of Perversion'. Needless to say, the author is a psychologist. While it is annoying that academics create a theory of everything out of their own area of interest, I have often wondered about what psychological forces motivate people to say or do abominable things like a police officer putting his knee on someone's neck and keeping it there even after the person has lost consciousness. The word I was thinking of was sado-masochism and I thought that the people engaging in it derive some libidinal pleasure from it. An activity doesn't have to be overtly sexual for someone to derive sexual pleasure from it. But, apparently, a better word for it is perversion. Perversion comes in all forms and sizes, and even watching porn involves perversion. Its not simply fantasy, it also involves dehumanization, objectification and sometimes exploitation. There are also forms of mass perversion, such as nationalism, casteism and racism. Of course, psychologists will attribute all failings in society to psychological tendencies of the human race, just as sociologists will focus on structural factors. There is always the danger of picking up an interesting concept and taking it too far. But, I found the concept of perversion interesting, nonetheless. 

Portugal Off Green List

 Portugal was taken off the green list of countries that people returning from do not need to quarantine either in a hotel or at home. Cue shock and horror from the tabloids about ruined vacation plans. A tweet from a disability rights activist summed up my feelings on the subject--'Love the "I'm sorry you don't need to travel but people like me think its important??" Very much the pandemic equivalent of "I'm sorry I'm so beautiful! You wouldn't understand". Some people pounced on her for not distinguishing between travelling to see family and holidaying, but that is a minor point. Her tweet was to do with Portugal been taken off the green list. I am sure some people living in the UK have family living in Portugal but I would be surprised if those people number in the tens of thousands. To be honest, I felt a little amused to see the vacation plans go up in smoke. If you need a foreign holiday so badly you can afford to have the holiday cancelled. If you are stretching your finances to go on a foreign holiday you are an idiot. With what is happening in India, I have absolutely no sympathy for middle-class people crying about ruined holiday plans. And don't even get me started on the passport privileges. I can't go to Portugal on a whim even in normal times. Some newspapers ran stories about people determined to go on holidays despite the government's decisions. More power to them! If they can enjoy themselves amid a pandemic knowing that they are putting themselves and others at risk of infection they must be special people. I'm guessing there is a large overlap between people prepared to go ahead with holidays during a pandemic and people who will break self-quarantine.

Be Like A Snail

Since the beginning of the week, I have been thinking of the best mental strategy to get me through the final stages of my PhD. On some occasions, the task ahead seems easy and doable, and on others it feels impossibly difficult. This afternoon, it occurred to me that I should be like a snail. A snail is notorious for its slow pace, but maybe that is what I need right now. Slow, deliberate progress. Trying to rush has not got me anywhere. A snail moves slowly but surely, taking its time to decide the direction it wants to move in and responding to changing circumstances. When it sees danger, instead of trying to brave it, it retreats into its shell, hunkering down till the danger has passed. Maybe that is the strategy I should follow--slow but deliberate progress, taking the time to find the right path, and hunkering down in the face of adversity instead of flailing. 

Not Sweating The Small Stuff

 Am I getting better at not sweating the small stuff or has what counts as big stuff changed for everyone. Incidents that would have bothered me 18 months ago, only do so momentarily, just enough to register that this was previously an annoying turn of events. Stuff like the cleaning lady indirectly accusing me of stealing the chocolates she keeps in the fridge. Or noisy housemates. Or my Mom's penchant for conspiracy theories. It has made me realize that reacting to the small stuff is a choice. And, sometimes you should react, but that reaction can be conscious and deliberate rather than an outburst. And the last incident with Betty two months ago, which a few years ago would have thrown me. And, I did find Betty's mere presence triggering for a few weeks afterwards. But, what triggers you may not necessarily harm you, and repeated exposure does blunt the trigger. 

PhD and Jenga

After the long weekend, I am happy to note that I am have gone back to the PhD with vengeance, I am planning to apply for a job, and it just struck me that I don't have much time left, even assuming that I am granted a 3-months extension. And, if I manage to land this job, I will be even more pressed for time. So, I have gone with hammer and tongs at my PhD, and I already fin myself waistdeep in the mire that is my conceptual argument. The arugment is too complicated and I am trying to reduce the number of concepts I draw upon. But, my thesis, at the moment feels like a Jenga  game. I have to figure out how to remove blocks without having the whole thing come tumbling down. Well, if I keeping showing up and attacking it, something has got to give, I guess.