A bit of a breakdown

Yesterday I had a bit of a breakdown. After spending the morning reading through all my research and making an extensive outline for my Jacobs chapter, I found myself completely incapable of writing. I managed to write about 2 pages, but I wasn't happy with it and couldn't figure out how to fix it or how to move past it. As I was in C's office, while he was teaching, I decided to give myself a break by going to the library to check out some books I need to consult. I thought the change of scenery might help me recollect my thoughts so that by the time I returned to C's office I could write again. No, such luck. I sat back down and tried to write, and I felt overwhelmed. C was back by then and asked me what was wrong, and I just started crying. And I couldn't stop. I tried to explain what I was feeling, but I don't think I made much sense. In the end, I said, "I'll be 20 weeks pregnant on Thursday. That means I have 10 weeks before I have to have a complete draft of this damn dissertation to my committee. I don't know if I can do it, especially not if I keep having days where I have writer's block. I just feel like I'm never going to finish." And then I cried some more. I know C was at a total loss, and I also know he's feeling a fair amount of guilt over my anxiety.

When C was at this point with his dissertation, I basically took 6 months off from my own work--I did lots of research and kept teaching, but I did no writing. This enabled me to focus on Wild Man and take care of the house so that C could get his dissertation finished. I'll be honest; it was a brutal 6 months. By the time he was finished, I was becoming increasingly resentful that I didn't have much time to devote to my own work. In hindsight, I realize that, given C's 4-4 teaching load at the time and his hour-long commute one way, one of us had to make a sacrifice, and at that point in our relationship, that had to be me. I have always assumed that C would make a similar sacrifice when I got to this point in my dissertation. I didn't, however, anticipate that I'd be pregnant with our second child and that C would be a tenure-track professor at a R1 university. Given the demands of his job, he can't put his own work on hold the way I did. And while C does everything around the house in terms of home repair, I do almost everything in terms of the day to day stuff, a point he will readily agree with. So when I find myself vacuuming the house while C preps lectures or works on a grant, I get a little angry. Or when he asks if I can take Wild Man with me to the grocery store so he can have some quiet time to work on the weekend, I really, really want to smack him hard. We have talked about this, and he has agreed that it is totally unfair, while also pointing out that I should have said something much sooner (yes, I know he's right, but I have felt hard pressed to say anything when he's expressed so much anxiety over tenure). We're going to sit down and develop a "chore chart," something I loathe to do, but something that I really believe is essential to my own mental well being. I don't want a dirty house, and I don't want to sacrifice time with my son. But I do want to finish this dissertation before Z arrives so that I can enjoy the summer with my family before I begin the next phase of my career.

I believe I can do this, but I also know I can't do it without help. I need C to understand that help isn't always him sitting down and talking my ideas out with me. Sometimes help comes in the form of clean laundry, a hot meal, and an occupied child. I know I have lots of long days and nights ahead of me, but hopefully, I'll have fewer breakdowns.

Revising Introduction

This morning, while C occupies Wild Man, I'm trying to revise the introduction to my second chapter. Can I just say that I hate revising introductions?

Dissertation Frustration, part I have lost count

Usually when I write a post with this title, I'm frustrated by myself. Well, I'm happy to report that I'm quite pleased with my progress. Since the beginning of November, I've written 35 pages of the chapter I'm currently working on (which, if we're keeping track, is the last actual chapter!). I have laid out the theoretical framework and discussed one of the texts. I still need to write the section on the next text, which I had hoped to have finished before Christmas. So, for a change, I'm not frustrated with myself or my progress. I am frustrated with the lull that is about to happen with my work.

This week is the last real time I'll have to work on my dissertation for at least 2 weeks, and more likely 3. Why? Well, we leave on Friday to travel to my grandparents for the weekend, and from there, we head to Home State on Monday or Tuesday until the 29th. Then we head back to CU Land. But when return, Wild Man's school will be closed until the 5th. So C and I will attempt to divide the day up (he'll likely get the morning, and I'll likely get the afternoon) so we can both try ever so feebly to get some work done during the week Wild Man is home with us. C is working on a book prospectus and prepping a grad class (the first he's ever taught), and I have to do some course prep of my own as well as finish this chapter. If I could have 2 weeks to work uninterrupted, I think I could have a really solid draft of this chapter done by Jan. 5th. But I'm not going to get that. I'll have to make do with what ever moments I can steal while we're visiting family, and given past experience, there won't be many. I really wish we had decided to stay in CU Land and work, work, work, but alas. I think it is too late to cancel the trip now. . . I feel so close to finishing that I don't want to stop working. I just want to finish the damn thing!

Dissertation Frustration Continued

In recent weeks, I've made considerable headway on my Wharton chapter. I have about 30 pages written, and at the sentence level, it is well written, if I can say that without sounding pretentious. I have even managed to clarify my argument and figure out how this particular chapter fits into the rest of my dissertation (which, of course, has yet to be written). I met with my advisor on Monday to ask some professional sorts of questions, and I gave her the first section of the chapter. I didn't want her to read all of what I had for several reasons. I wanted her to read this section to make sure my argument, which I finally felt like I had clearly articulated, made sense. I didn't expect to hear from her for a few weeks, so I made plans to continue working. Yesterday I checked my box at school and discovered that she had found time to read this section and had made extensive comments. I opened the packet with excitement only to want to throw it across the room. She made several good suggestions, which I've spent the better part of today adding, but she also questioned my reading of Homi Bhabha, although she didn't question my use of him. She instructed me not to worry about this, but to continue writing, telling me we'd deal with it when we got back to the chapter as a part of the larger dissertation.

Yesterday was not a good day for lots of reasons, and this particular lengthy comment made it worse. To be honest, I didn't read the comments in much detail because I was upset. I have worked hard to get to a point where I'm writing everyday and where I'm not feeling disillusioned with myself and my project. To make things worse, I spent the better part of yesterday in a series of department meetings. In one meeting, in which this year's search committee gave a presentation on the candidates they plan to interview at MLA, a senior faculty member made a comment that I didn't understand during the question and answer part of the meeting. I raised my hand and asked for clarification, and he responded to me in a very snippy way. I wondered if I perhaps should not have asked that question. A few moments later another faculty member, who had had her hand up at the same time I had my hand up, was called on, and she said "I wanted to ask the question that M already asked." She spoke to me afterward and told me my questions was completely valid and not to worry about the cranky Senior faculty member.

The point of that lengthy digression was to say that I didn't have much time to devote to the comments, and thus, I felt a vague sense of unease and panic regarding my dissertation all day yesterday. C and I had a long talk about it last night, and he encouraged me not to get discouraged and to follow my advisor's advice. He reasoned it couldn't be a huge issue if she told me not to fix it now but to move on. He said, "Don't lose your momentum, M. You're making progress. Keep it up." So this morning I sat down and carefully read my advisor's comments and she didn't call my reading of Bhabha into question as she suggested it needed to be more nuanced. It seems I didn't address one point that would strengthen my own argument. So after spending yesterday in a total panic, I realized that my dissertation doesn't suck but that I needs some fine tuning. I managed to move on and get through another complicated section today about domesticity and money. With any luck, I will still be able to finish this chapter by the beginning of next semester and start on the next one. I anticipate, however, that dissertation frustration will be a recurring topic in the blog.

Dissertation Frustration

I'm experiencing Dissertation Frustration. Last night, after a great weekend (S & I threw C a surprise graduation party, and we truly surprised him), I had a long cry. I've been struggling with some feelings the past few weeks, and last night was the first night I let myself talk about them. Here's the issue: I'm not getting as much done as I'd like to be getting done. I have a million reasons why not: I taught a summer course; I haven't read enough and don't feel ready to write; we moved; and I could go on I'm sure. But I'm having doubts, not about my ability to complete the dissertation and to get a tenure-track job, but about my desire to do so. Every week day morning, I drop S off at school, and I feel miserable leaving him. It isn't the same visceral misery I felt when he first started going to school (yes, it is a total euphemism for daycare, but it makes me feel better), but it is there. I'd simply rather be with him. I get enough work done every day to justify having him in school, but I don't get as much done as I'd like. Altogether I've written about 20 pages, and it doesn't all go together and none of it is particularly good at this point. I find myself daydreaming about staying home with S all the time.

I expressed these fears to C, and he was a bit baffled, to say the least. I'm the ambitious one in the relationship; for a while, he actually thought I'd finish before he did. But somewhere in the past few months, I've lost my motivation, and I'm not sure how to get it back.