So over on my personal (lifestyle) blog "Louise Usher" I generated a very powerful blog post which has gone very viral! On this post I wrote about my passions for travel, writing and all things Lusher Life. Now, this morning I have come into uni to work in the coffee shop as I know I will be much less distracted than at home.
2 hours to work on a project is a lot of time for me. I am amazingly fast it seems. Hope that doesn't mean I don't work well on it, but I get lots done.
Now I have spent these 2 hours researching blinking Phd courses and the like. Why? Why? Why?
Stop it Lou! Stop! Stop!
The post I wrote was full of clarity and I know what I want and why. Do I want to get up to a frosty train station and travel into London? Not really. Why do I even consider this? I know where I want my career to be and being unwell last week (did I tell you?) gave me total clarity that I was going to be someone who travels and reviews places to stay and eat with health issues, special diets and/or intolerances and allergies. Even if the said catering place doesn't pay for the review, this is something I can report back on Youtube and websites and generate revenue this way. Honestly, I hate to be so calculated but you need to earn a crust right?
Yes you do and I want to make life work for me in the best way possible which I believe is to travel and see some of the world. While having time to Yoga and sort out my health issues - I'm going to the gym tonight YAY!
I had a quick look at the student blogs on the place I was looking at online. A Phd student wrote about the impact on mental health while doing a Phd. Now would I go back in time and never join uni?
Probably.
If I had known how things were going to work out I expect it would have sounded like I had died and gone to hell.
Firstly there was the panic attacks, then the anti-depressant medication, coupled with hating the public, and public places. Having an issue (definitely mental health) with getting on a train and getting off again. Living with my curtains permanently closed in my house and being paranoid at so many levels.
Moving to a university closer to home was a good move. I like this uni. There are a few kind people. There are also some nasty buggers. This academic life is so competitive. I don't like that AT ALL.
Then we have Dad being so ill he was rushed to intensive care and we lost him a few days later, planning the most amazing funeral (this was my coping mechanism) and finally getting back to uni to catch up and just about pass that year. Wanting every day to go see Mum as I was so worried about her on her own.
A year later and mum is in the same intensive care with heart block. Seriously ill. Heart surgery. Me missing uni for pretty much 3 months.
One night we were in casualty all night long. We had a presentation to do at 9am. I left mum in casualty with my ex, dashed into uni, smashed it with the presentation, left immediately (missed about 2 hours of doing nothing in casualty) and sorted mum again.
Mum then had a dementia diagnosis.
Moved in with us. I slept on the sofa for months. We did a home made loft conversion. Mum got a room. I got a bed back.
All the while of course I am suffering with my back, my crohns.
Failing year 2 by just a couple of percent on one module. Retaking. Passing.
Divorce for me.
Teaching my twins to drive.
Buying many cars!
MY daughter being run off the road by a drunk on her first day driving.
Nightmares. All over.
Last week, apparently I was close to needing intestinal surgery. As I literally crawled into uni on my knees (not quite but you imagine) high on tramadol, the department head pretty much told me to pull myself together or apply for EC.
Nasty.
How have I survived? Honestly I don't know. Now. I feel I had clarity. I do have clarity. So why am I being drawn into this silly idea of becoming a Dr? The buzz? Surely there will be a better buzz by travelling the world? That's called living the dream, not becoming a Dr?
Focus Lou. Focus.
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