Maybe the source of my newfound frustration with university is this lack of writing. Who knows.
This couple of weeks didn’t really have anything taxing, so I decided to take some time and work on the literature review for my thesis topic. The process took a bigger toll on me than I imagined: I spent hours jumping from topic to topic while feeling anxious about the other subjects. Not at all a healthy way to spend the limited free time. At the end of these sessions I am usually burnt out, and contemplating the possibility that I may not be worthy of the expectations others (and to a huge extent, myself) have imposed on me. Sometimes I can’t see if terms of overlapping definitions are in the end the same construct, sometimes I can’t determine the statistical analysis that I ought to use or the experimental design I should employ. Sometimes I don’t understand the literature’s proposition for future directions. More often than not I fail to see meaning in conducting studies in a certain area, usually one day after the initial hype.
For the first time in a long while, I feel like a fraud. But I got no time to be lamenting about this. Life in the HELP BPsych program moves at a fast pace, take a moment off for a breather and you get thrown behind.
I have tasted being behind long enough. Onward I have to go.