Spending a good couple of days really researching deeply the courses I might want to undertake next year onwards, I felt excited. The course material sounded interesting but then I realised the excitement comes from actually doing those bits of research and filling forms as opposed to the actual work. Procrastinating on my deadlines which were looming for the uni work I need to do here and now, I stumbled over my own thoughts.
Knowing that there will be one day soon when Mum has had her time on this earth, the twins are flying the nest and my life seems more empty, I felt excited to be pursuing a career path once again.
It didn't occur to me that I might well get that same feeling from doing the thing which is my dream.
So off i have trotted into the world of application forms and personal statements.
Imperial College London, one of the top universities in the world. Clinical Research Phd for me, Diabetes and Obesity. Ideal
Kings College London, Dietetics PgDip.
London Met, Dietetics Msc
Plus I have been already enrolled on a course at my own uni. A masters which is worth a few grand to me too.
This morning I left with a spring in my step. Feeling smart these days, loving my work.
Meeting Jasmine for lunch, more springing, despite the bad back.
Walking around uni to the tune of 'hi louise' and smiles and nods (my ambassador role introduces me to many people I otherwise wouldn't have met) I was feeling fantastic.
The afternoon lecture was about obesity. Great. I love this subject.
"Hey friends." I smiled at the Six Packs.
Have I told you about the six packs? There are six of us and we are tight. Close, helpful, loving and tight. A great group.
Understanding the subject, asking sensible questions, answering many questions, our lecturer made me frown inside as she kept referring to 'people of colour' which I was unsure was racist or not.
Then, forgetting he was one of our fellow classmates in year one, she referred to someone as morbidly obese and kind of sneered about the fact he didn't agree with doing pharmacology so left the uni. He was my friend He's now at Kings. Ha! Well I was inwardly 'letting this go' as I was giving her a pinch of salt.
At the end of the lecture she kept me back.
"How do you think your presentation went the other day?"
"Yeah ok."
She frowned and proceeded to tell me that I had insufficient evidence backing up my review and therefore would be very disappointed with my disastrous mark. I was struggling to hear this. Already I had dragged myself in with three slipped discs, a menopause going on and lots of pain all over. Some of which was caused by the massive amount of painkillers I had taken to get me through this. Not only did I: think I had done ok. I thought I had done WELL.
My peers had also congratulated me too.
I revised the subject for an entire day. To create a disaster.
The angle she was speaking to me had a feeling of 'you might as well give up now'. She asked if I was prepared to let anyone look at my next piece of work as it was so important to get a good mark and turn it around.
Devastated.
Erase Erase Erase. It would be wrong of me to critique her here. Unprofessional. Yet I feel a sense of something so different between her and me. Honestly.
Instantly I felt my mental health slip back into a place I hate, a place of uncertainty about myself, my worth, my worry that I must be a really awful person in order to attract such ugliness in my life...
Refusing to believe this is me and my mental health, i let tears flow instead. Silent crying.
Then come the thoughts of being alone and dealing with life. Being not good at dealing with life when the mental health dips.
Something I do know is I want to forget about becoming a Dr. Doing that Phd seems something so unimportant.
Could I retire next year? Simply continuing to write and make films for my living. Travelling. Maybe forgetting the entire food thing. Taking care of my mother who has dementia. Possibly fostering babies too. Making life more simple....
I just feel :I want to quit. To run. To make life simple and get to work on my back issue and definitely on my mental health. Going swimming, walking the dog, all these things....
Life feels like it needs to be lived yet I feel broken hearted for the person who has been attacked from the inside out. Yes, I'm sensitive, this is something I know. But its who I am.
Right away, I am back to that person who feels like a sad person. Alone. Sensitive.
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