but be thankful

While I sat waiting for the doctor, I skimmed this article by Fam Bam. I've never related to an article so much. “Maybe I'll go back and edit this before you read it,” she writes, expressing a feeling I think of every time I hit “publish” on Blogger. “I want to talk about what's messy. I don't want to talk about how lucky I am or how privileged I am to be able to say I'm a graduate student.”

When I said “I was fully funded to Oregon State,” someone once looked at me and sarcastically stated, “We feel so bad for you,” with a derisive laugh. When I cried tears of loneliness and unhappiness and grief, I heard “Just think of this as an opportunity, something fun you can do.” Or, worst of all: “Just be thankful for where you are. You have a lot of good things going for you, but you tend to see more the negative side of things.”

They mean well.

Like fambam210139708, “[s]ometimes I write to gain clarity and some perspective. Other times I write just to blow off steam.” Sometimes I am angry. Sometimes I am selfish. Sometimes I desperately want the next math grad student to not feel shattered and alone, to find out that someone else felt this way, too.

I can't focus on this. I have three hours left to finish these two problems, which could take me six hours or longer. I'm so terrified of disappointing my advisor. What if she decides I'm not good enough for her? She's way too nice to ever say anything like that and that's almost worse. Everyone keeps laughing at me for who I am and they think I'm some one-dimensional person and I'm not. What if I have a split personality? I forgot to take my medication this morning. I didn't have time to take it. I hate myself for how poorly I eat. I wish I had time to exercise. I couldn't even make my bed this morning. I slept five hours last night. I want to sleep thirteen hours every night. My bones are exhausted. I was the prototype like 3 Stacks on that CD, an example of the perfect candidate. I was the most highly recruited member of the cohort but I don't deserve it. I bet the graduate committee chair regrets recommending me for that scholarship. Sometimes I hate this school so much I feel empty inside. I want to go back to being an undergrad. Why is my life so unstructured? I suck at imposing the structure myself. Why didn't my mentor e-mail me back? Is something wrong with me? What if I cry in front of my advisor? What if I lose funding? What if I never pass qualifying exams? Why can't I work hard? Why don't I find joy in math anymore? These problems are so uninteresting. Why can't they let us pick out problems that interest us? Why the heck do I have daily homework and weekly homework in complex analysis? I can't keep up with the reading or extra problems or anything. I've become such a procrastinator. My mentors would be so disappointed in me if they only knew. My GPA is probably too low. What if my advisor comments on it in my meeting with her? I should have a 4.0. Why does everyone expect perfection? I've turned in such crappy homework sets these last two weeks. I want to cry all the time. I'm so sick of people forcing positivity down my throat. Don't they understand how hard this is? I wish they'd listen instead of offering all this unwanted advice especially when they've never done this before....

Every time I write one of these, um, very gloom-laden posts with such a nice frosting of anger, I am afraid.

I'm afraid all the time and fear ruins my life but fear also runs my life so how can I get away from it? I'm sick of anxiety and depression and paranoia. Am I always going to have these mental problems? Does everyone in the cohort think I'm stupid? because I definitely think I'm stupid. . . .

I am afraid of offending you. I am afraid I already offended you. Some of my dearest friends are also some of the most positive people I know. I am well aware of the command in the Bible to be thankful always.

Great, now they're all going to just think I'm some ungrateful brat. But I am so beyond thankful that grad school has shown me how much tenacity I have and how much my family loves me and how much God is fighting for me. . . .

But be thankful, you say. I am thankful. I am thankful that I am more empathetic. I am thankful my heart senses others' pain more quickly. I am thankful that I am enduring something that will mature me. I am thankful that maybe I will get the chance to help someone else someday. I am thankful I'm working with my favorite professor. I get to be an analyst someday -- what!!! . . .

But I -- but we -- are still in pain, pain from the unspoken expectations of perfection. Pain from feeling like crappy students. Pain from feeling like failures. We are not shallow because we feel this sort of pain more than, perhaps, others do; we are, unfortunately, all too human. To be thankful does not mean we are automatically happy.

I try to hide, but now you know it -- that I'm at an all-time low.

Please listen.

This post was inspired by Fam Bam's article.