Be still, my soul...

I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I’m simply typing this as I don’t seem to be able to do much else. I was commenting on a colleague’s paper but realized that I could hardly form letters, the pen refusing to move at my feeble hand’s command. It took me light years to form a question mark. So yes, the disease is taking a toll on me. I keep telling myself that I won’t give in. I won’t. I won’t. Sometimes though, it feels like this battle is not worth all this effort. Effort to eat. Effort to wobble. Effort to fall asleep. Effort to stand. Effort to water the lilies every ten minutes or so. Effort to cough. Effort to get through the day.

Last night, for the first time in my life, I began to think about my future. If I indeed manage to finish this Ph.D., what can I do afterwards? Can I even get a job? Good heavens, it’s only now all this occurred to me. When mobility, speech, and whatever else is challenged, what can I do for a job? This is a daunting reality. Alas! Where was I all this time? Yes, I guess I was living in a safe bubble. But if I do want to make something out of my life, I should act on it.

I just don’t even know where to begin. I feel like everything is coming to a screeching halt before me. I will finish this somehow, this PhD. Then what can I do? Can I be an editor or something? A boring librarian? Ughhh... I want to keep going, but I have to have a plan. Alas alas. I’m so dramatic, but this time I really AM paranoid. OK OK I’m trying to calm down a little. So let me list what I’m worried about:

I have to finish my classes this semester. This should be alright, I think. I will battle on. Besides, I like all the classes I’m taking this semester. Online teaching is ok, too.

 I need to do an internship. I have no idea about this.

Then I need to apply for jobs, I suppose. I can barely talk, sometimes, so teaching would be out of the question. Maybe one fine day, when I’m a celebrity!! Ha!! Yeah, right! What in the world can I do? Editor? Work for a magazine, journal? I’m so lost.

The Dissertation should be manageable. I have an amazing committee, but would I be able to meet expectations? I don’t know, I don’t, I don’t.

Comps??? Where do I start???

I’m oblivious. Professional development? IRB Ughh… what what what!

I was in the emergency room twice already. When all my tests were negative, I had to conclude the severe panic attack-like symptoms were caused by ms. I’m not in a good place, right now. This is paranoia.  I feel beyond resurrection, but I don’t want to give up. Not yet… not yet… How can I be? I just want to be. Deep breathe, deep breathe.

Be still, my soul. L