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.
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