(no subject)
Feb. 27th, 2007 10:14 pmThey're back.
If you read my thesis blog, I talked about butterflies a week ago or so. After last Wednesday, my butterflies went home.
Butterflies is a bad description.
I'm talking about panic. Raw fight or flight panic. It's happening all the time. Well it was. Last week Tuesday and last week Wednesday morning I was in full blown panic mode. I was panicked. I had two job interviews and had never given a phone interview before. Panic.
And it subsided. And from about 2 pm last week Wednesday to about 9 pm tonight, I was calm. Then, in the last hour, I started twinging. My stomach to flip. Just a little one here and there. I'm starting to panic. Despite a meeting with my chair ("Why how do you do, Mr. Wingback?") that went nicely and he told me many positive things including that he could not see any major conceptual errors, I am now terrified.
I am terrified of not getting a job. I am terrified of not finishing my thesis. Right now we're talking low level omnipresent terror. The same kind that happens on a dark night when I've had too much caffeine and I think that there might be something behind the door lurking waiting to hurt me (this is truer than I might like to admit). But what I am feeling now differs from what I felt last Wednesday morning in that 1) that was high level terror and 2) this has no discernable endpoint. It may continue to build indefinitely.
It used to be, in high school, that my stomach would flip in this way twice a year: on the days that the cast lists for the drama productions were posted. There were 8 productions when I was in HS. For 7 of those I saw my name on the cast list. For the last musical of my HS career, I did not see my name. Panic turned to... I'm not even sure. A different kind of panic, and a certain sense of betrayal. But I coped. I'm not sure what this is supposed to accomplish right here, but, hey, panic.
I hope that this panic passes and does not build in the way that it did last week. That would be both unbearable and exhausting.
If you read my thesis blog, I talked about butterflies a week ago or so. After last Wednesday, my butterflies went home.
Butterflies is a bad description.
I'm talking about panic. Raw fight or flight panic. It's happening all the time. Well it was. Last week Tuesday and last week Wednesday morning I was in full blown panic mode. I was panicked. I had two job interviews and had never given a phone interview before. Panic.
And it subsided. And from about 2 pm last week Wednesday to about 9 pm tonight, I was calm. Then, in the last hour, I started twinging. My stomach to flip. Just a little one here and there. I'm starting to panic. Despite a meeting with my chair ("Why how do you do, Mr. Wingback?") that went nicely and he told me many positive things including that he could not see any major conceptual errors, I am now terrified.
I am terrified of not getting a job. I am terrified of not finishing my thesis. Right now we're talking low level omnipresent terror. The same kind that happens on a dark night when I've had too much caffeine and I think that there might be something behind the door lurking waiting to hurt me (this is truer than I might like to admit). But what I am feeling now differs from what I felt last Wednesday morning in that 1) that was high level terror and 2) this has no discernable endpoint. It may continue to build indefinitely.
It used to be, in high school, that my stomach would flip in this way twice a year: on the days that the cast lists for the drama productions were posted. There were 8 productions when I was in HS. For 7 of those I saw my name on the cast list. For the last musical of my HS career, I did not see my name. Panic turned to... I'm not even sure. A different kind of panic, and a certain sense of betrayal. But I coped. I'm not sure what this is supposed to accomplish right here, but, hey, panic.
I hope that this panic passes and does not build in the way that it did last week. That would be both unbearable and exhausting.