Leaving, or staying, or spinning madly in circles
My computer decided it was not fond of this post, apparently. I was, but that’s too bad: I need to rewrite the whole thing. Oh yay.
I strongly suspect I’ve already decided what to do. I suspect this based on the happiness I felt when someone suggested I should leave now, based on the resignation I felt when my family suggested I stay.
That said, I’m going to think it to death anyhow.
If I stay, I would have the lovely feeling that I can actually finish something I start. I left my first degree program in what was supposed to have been my last semester (in reality, I would have taken one more). I left my PhD program without a PhD. I’ve dropped hobbies and plans and all sorts of things. Follow-through is totally not my forte.
You could argue — and argue well & correctly — that it was right for me to have left these programs, and that indeed the biggest mistake was not to have left them earlier. (Well, perhaps not with the PhD, because it is good I have an MA. But it was good to have left it when I did. Look! I am alive. It is good!)
But do I know yet that it’s right? I’m frustrated with the first few weeks, and I’m not ecstatic about being in school (again). Doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t do this. It would be good for me to be a better programmer; it would be even better for me to learn machine learning & NLP techniques. I would be more employable.
And yet — when I’m this uninspired, I stop showing up (check); I don’t do the work well (check). What would be the point? Why waste time and money? I *can* learn how to program on my own — it’s not the ideal way for me, but I can do it. And I could go visit my friend in Prague (and visit other nice places nearby, while I’m there, why not? I’d love to see Vienna . . . ).
Oh well. I will sleep on it again. I’ve put energy and work and all into this (not particularly much money, though, yet). I don’t want to drop it all. On the other hand, that idea of sunk costs still works. No point throwing good time after bad. But shouldn’t I just suck it up, deal with the frustration, take what I can, and come out better on the other side?
See, I can’t tell if that last line is speaking from intelligence or bloody-mindedness. That’s where my problem lies.
September 26th, 2004 at 9:53 pm
I guess my entire life could be seen as a series of missteps and evidence of not following through at nearly every juncture.
Exhibit A: I had a full scholarship and grant money and quit college after the first semester. Sure, I went back later next summer, but from there on, it was on my own money and my own extra time while I worked to pay my bills. Definite evidence of not following through since I’d planned all along to go to college.
Exhibit B: I worked for three years in a capacity that led me to take accounting and business courses in order to make sure I had a well-based understanding of the same because my job was an excellent job (not the legal one) and so I altered my course for a time, thinking that it would be helpful, then I left when I changed my mind. And went back to the original plan, having, theoretically in some people’s minds, just wasted three years of my life deviating from the course. Some would say, this is evidence.
Exhibit C: I also changed my mind about transfering to another program for the phd even though I intended to do that when I embarked on the MA. I quit a full-time good-paying job to do it and subjected my family to a lot of crap, all of which they’ve born good-naturedly, but still, isn’t that evidence that I failed to complete a mission when I changed my mind and suddenly said, MA and that’s it, and I don’t know what I’m doing with it, btw, when I finish? Yes, I think so.
I really could go on and on but I’ve taken up enough space here. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I really wish I’d begun with a carefully charted map and had kept to it, but I haven’t and the only thing that you can do and say when you deviate from your self-imposed course, is to appreciate the ways it enriched your life, which admittedly, is usually an acknowledgment made in hindsight.
I learned this silly art from my mother.
September 26th, 2004 at 11:12 pm
I know, I know, I know this feeling.
I have no advice. Except to say that the feeling of relief vs. resignation sounds like a good tell. And also, that knowing when to quit doing things you don’t want to do is an enviable skill. Being able to distinguish between what you want and what you’re “supposed” to want is an amazing, amazing gift. IMHO.
September 26th, 2004 at 11:25 pm
Though we can argue about whether I should have stuck with hobbies or what have you (though I *have* stayed with the glass for going on 5 years now, albeit intermittently), I’m pretty sure that leaving other programs was the right thing to do.
I’m fighting arguing your points with you, because it would be wrong on lots of levels.
And I can’t decide whether I should take the “enrich your life” part or the “wish I’d set a course and stuck to it” part. Though I’m not sure that leaving another program would be enriching . . . travel is, right? And work? I don’t know. I’m fighting my gut, which is rarely an intelligent move. At the same time, though, sometimes my gut is wrong. I just don’t think it is. (So why am I still fighting? But I am.)
September 26th, 2004 at 11:32 pm
Whoops, took too long writing the first comment. Yes, well, I spent years too long in my first program — though I will say that a friend I got out of it was well worth the pain. But that taught even me that sometimes it’s wise to get out while the getting is good.
The trick for me isn’t knowing what I want, it’s knowing if what I want is good for me, I think. Or maybe it’s trusting that what I want is good for me.
September 27th, 2004 at 1:16 am
And I can’t decide whether I should take the “enrich your life†part or the “wish I’d set a course and stuck to it†part.
Well, both were meant to be only conciliatory and encouraging; clearly, I failed at that. I intended to show that I’d also had times that I’d changed my mind and wondered and that some people might consider it all evidence of lack of follow-through but that my gains were invaluable along the way. I was trying to be marginally open-minded so as to not spout off in either direction, because I know that you’re thinking seriously about it, but I guess I screwed up that communication.
Blast!
September 27th, 2004 at 1:20 am
PS and hang all stupid propriety at this point — my advice is go with your gut. I’m not sure why I bothered to spend all that time outlining all that crap above when I clearly didn’t get my message through, and I could’ve accomplished the same with the simple message. I’m aggravated as hell with myself for bothering.
September 27th, 2004 at 2:06 pm
I agree - in the end you have to go with what feels right for YOU. But I also wonder if it’s just _this_ class that’s bugging you (versus the whole enterprise) and whether it might be worth meeting with the person teaching it to talk about whether it might be possible to find ways for it to work better for you. That way you can know that it genuinely is or isn’t right for you, as opposed to being potentially okay if the problems get resolved. Of course, if your teachers are resistant to this sort of discussion, that’s a pretty clear sign that it won’t work.
September 27th, 2004 at 4:58 pm
It’s nice to learn from your adventures and apply the lessons learned from past adventures to new ones, but I think the current problem is not as much like the old ones as it might seem….
This time you’re not midstream — no, that’s too hackneyed an analogy. Sorry….
This time you have not begun to spread the cream cheese on the bagel. Quick, without pausing to think, what if your previous experiences hadn’t happened — then what would you do now?
I think the heavy feelings about self-image and what kind of person are you and stuff like that are making it difficult to decide this. This decision won’t settle those questions. I have another plan to settle that issue:
Step 1) Embark on a program to use as a test to find out who you are. This should *not* be anything like a class in programming — it should be a pure test; we don’t want the quest for identity to interfere with your career objectives and we don’t want your career objectives to interfere with the quest for identity. It can’t be anything like working with glass either. How about if you resolve to practice doing tricks with a yo-yo for an hour every day? It doesn’t really matter to you whether you can do yo-yo tricks or not, does it? If it does, choose something else. This has to be a pure test of resolution.
Step 2) Decide whether you want to:
Step 2a) Prove you’re disciplined enough to keep practicing every day and learn to do yo-yo tricks.
Step 2b) Prove you’re not too stubborn to give up on a idea like spending an hour of every day practicing yo-yo tricks before you waste much of your life on it.
After you’ve settled that you’ll find your current question easy to answer. Unfortunately you don’t have time to settle that first — so how about if you put the identity issue aside for now, confident you’ll settle it in good time with the yo-yo, and look at the current question on its own merits?
September 27th, 2004 at 5:18 pm
I’m sorry, Michelle; I did get what you said, but I took — because I am crazy — my own issues from it, too. I appreciated your telling me how you followed through, or didn’t, or whatever; it is good to hear, too. I think I am going to go with my gut. I know I am, rather. Now it’s mostly about figuring out how to tell my parents this. Oh dear.
Rana, it’s actually all my classes; I’m complaining about them as one big mass of complaints. But it’s not just one.
Cougar: uh. See, if my previous experiences hadn’t happened, I think I would be likely to say that I’m just telling myself I’m unhappy when I’m not really, and that I should stick it out. Eventually I would become too miserable to manage that, and I would hide in bed for a week. You do not recall me while I was in chemistry? While working in a lab one summer when people mentioned, once I finally got out of that place, how it was nice to see me smiling again, since they hadn’t seen me smile once in FIVE MONTHS? (This is quite literally true, for those who wonder. I didn’t smile — except briefly when I was on the beach — that entire summer. It was about more than what I was doing, but that was certainly an integral part of it as well.) Last time I stayed at my grad school for an extra year because, well, it could just be the first year, and then it got no better and I actually left, which I still cannot quite believe. I would not have known to do that, though, without the earlier experience. (I am much more fucked up than I pretend to be. Hi, people-I-know-who-I-can-tell-are-reading-this-because-I-read-my-server-logs. Bet you all didn’t know all of this. One day I am going to break all my self-imposed blogsilences, and won’t that be a shock.)
You’re right, though; the issue of what I should (or shouldn’t) be studying won’t settle my questions about who I am. (I do feel I know what I want. I’m not sure this makes sense.) I’m sure that if I could stick out with yoyos, it would be an impressive if crazy accomplishment. I have cats; I’ve had cats my whole life. I take care of them and don’t *knowingly* give them things that might kill them.
I can’t tell what the merits are, entirely; or rather, there are reasons to stay and reasons not to, but I feel crazyunhappy, and it seems like it means I should go, except I feel so guilty even wanting that.
September 27th, 2004 at 7:45 pm
I do remember when you were in chemistry, and I’m certain you could learn yo-yo tricks if you wanted to. If you don’t have to prove anything to yourself you certainly don’t have to prove it to me. Your parents, though … well, they probably understand about drop dates, don’t they? You could show it to them in the catalog and explain those dates are there because it’s normal for normal people to audit classes for a few days and then decide not to take them.
If that doesn’t work … um … start wearing a foil-lined beanie! Then you can say now that you’re shielded from the mind-control rays you realize it wasn’t your idea … you probably won’t have to say anything, just wear the foil-lined beanie and no one will ask you any questions.
September 28th, 2004 at 12:48 am
This is all I’m going to say: Move out.
September 28th, 2004 at 1:00 am
I will. But the irritations are more than made up for by the money I am saving, so I will be able to afford a place of my very own soon enough and it will be far better. By the time I find a place that was affordable and livable and allowed pets (this is the biggest issue) and had a sane landlord I’ll have been approved for a mortgage, anyways. I would adore living on my own again. I long for it. But I am entirely sure that stayign at home for the shortterm until I can find a place to own is the right move.
I bitch a lot, it’s the kind of person I am, but in the end I have good parents, and they trust I’m making the right decisions for my life.
I’m trying really hard not to be too defensive about this because I’ve had a lot of assholes (not you, Michelle) argue about how this is a bad move, etc, etc, and perhaps for other people or with other families — anyways, the point is that I’m staying here until I buy a place which will, with any luck, be in the spring, and this is (a) entirely normal (I have lots of friends who’re still at home until they buy their first place, in their late 20s, it’s a Montreal thing) and (b) in any case the right move for me. Plus, more fodder to bitch about, and I always love having that.
September 28th, 2004 at 3:09 pm
Coming to this a little late, without knowing all the details, but good luck with your decision. I agree with Dr. B that being able to distinguish between what you want to do and what people think you should do is a great skill.