After all this time, I have applied for my PhD. I am elated, excited, hopeful. And scared. I love my job, love helping others to help themselves. Love the constant buzz of work, work, work (when it is not just exhausting me- see previous entry). But I long for something intellectually stimulating, for the life of academia to which I had become accustomed before I started working. I miss it. And I can’t go back to it without funding… And I might not get funding… so having put myself Out There, leaving my work vulnerable to scrutiny and my dreams vulnerable full stop, makes me feel- well, vulnerable. I have never liked the soft skin vulnerability lends me, easily perforated, easily bruised. I have always loved the lightness of hope but feared the darkness of despair when hopes are dashed. And so… I carry on, day by day, awaiting that response: you have been selected for interview. You have not been selected for interview. Either prospect is terrifying, yet I let the light of my hope burn, burn, burn because it is the only option available.
In other news, I am working on my blog posts for Mslexia and having been selected for that makes me feel hopeful… Like I am not just an “aspiring” writer but a writer in my own right. Getting paid to do what I really love. I hope the trend continues because in some ways my confidence is floating but in others it is sinking and I need, I need, I need to stay afloat right now.
Wish me luck?