transitions
Holy shit, it’s been a little over a year since my last blog post. I’ve thought about returning to this space often throughout the past 12 months but wasn’t quite sure what its function was anymore. The Daily Psych was a much-needed creative outlet for me during my graduate admissions experience, and I am so grateful I had somewhere to share parts of my story and some useful information with other folks taking a similar path. But to be honest, I was burnt the *f* out by the time I received my acceptance to the clinical psychology PhD program I am attending now. Applying to doctoral programs took literally all of my physical and emotional energy. I still vividly remember learning that I was waitlisted for the very program I am currently attending– I called my mom sobbing, so deflated and defeated, not sure if I could reapply the next year. I had no energy left, nothing else to give to the process. I doubted myself, my career aspirations, my qualifications. And even though I ended up receiving an acceptance call a month or so later informing me I was brought in off the waitlist, I’m slowly realizing that the weight of those experiences, those deep-seated doubts, didn’t just disappear when I hung up the phone.
I need this outlet again. I need a place to document the agony and ecstasy of graduate school. I need to connect with other students experiencing similar wins and similar struggles, and I desperately need to turn my struggles into something useful and worthwhile. I do hope to continue helping with the admissions process, as I recognize the importance of mentorship and resources during PhD applications, especially in psychology. However, I can’t deny the direction I’m being pulled in now, which is to document grad school life in addition to grad admissions life. I hope some of you stick around, and I hope to find new readers that can vibe with what I have to say now.
All of this to ultimately say – man, I’m struggling. And I’m struggling to come to terms with why I’m struggling.
I fought tooth and nail to get into this graduate program.
It took me years of preparation, reflection, and planning to open this door for myself.
I know that I did the hard work necessary to get here, and that I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t capable and qualified. And yet…the doubt creeps in. On days where I’m not excited about finding a citation for one sentence in my thesis proposal, or when it feels like a fight to read a chapter about assessment, or the moments in class I can’t seem to pay attention, I tell myself it’s because I’m not cut out for this. There’s a reason why so many programs rejected me, and it’s because they could see I wasn’t a good fit for this life.
I know logically that this is imposter syndrome rearing its ugly head. But then somehow, I get imposter syndrome about having imposter syndrome. Don’t you need to have actual skills to feel like an imposter? It’s cyclical and pervasive. In my master’s program, I combatted this by working twice as hard to prove I belonged. I’m finding that in my doctoral program, I’m struggling to work hard. I’m struggling to be a good student. And I wonder if that has to do with the emotional toll of the admissions process.
I don’t know that I ever fully acknowledged and processed the experience of applying to psychology PhD programs. It tore me down. It made me question the core of who I was. And by the time I found myself in a program, I think I had lost sight of why I wanted to be here in the first place. My commitment to myself is to give myself grace, to reconnect with what I’m passionate about, and to seek out support from those familiar with these feelings.
It feels good to be back here in this space. Thanks for reading.