Graduate school feels like it’s swallowing me whole. The pressure to meet high standards, the looming deadlines, and the relentless mental demands — I can already feel the exhaustion creeping in. Sleep, these days, seems less about rest and more about escaping the weight of it all.
And yet, I know I’ll keep going.
Ambisyosa ako, eh! There’s so much I want to do, so many thoughts constantly running through my mind. I genuinely enjoy academic life — the pursuit of knowledge, the process of learning. But there have been moments I’ve had to pause, for the sake of my mental and physical well-being. I'm already deep in the writing phase of this journey, but truthfully? It feels lonely. Boring, even. Most of my friends and batchmates have already graduated.
It was never an easy ride — there were long nights, early mornings, and countless revisions. But back then, we could still laugh, grab food after class, and find joy despite the chaos. If I were to compare it to my entire educational journey, I’d say I enjoyed my doctoral studies the most. It was here I finally found my place. I felt a sense of belonging and clarity about the life I wanted to build.
There’s still a part of me that aches when I remember the scholarship I didn’t take — I had a chance to pursue studies in Australia. But I chose my career in the agency I’m with now. I never regretted that decision. In fact, I’ve always believed it was God’s will.
Right now, I’m just trying to hold myself together. Trying to stay sane. I write, but I don’t talk. I don’t really have a support system for what I’m doing — and it hurts. People applaud your success, but they disappear when you’re struggling. That’s the sad part. Maybe that’s why I gravitate toward people who are in pain or still finding their way — because I know, once they overcome their own battles, they’ll learn to live with deeper appreciation and grace.
There are days I want to cry it all out. But when I do open up, people just say, “Ginusto mo ’yan, so wag kang magreklamo!” (“You chose that, so don’t complain!”)
Yes, I chose this. But what people don’t know is why I’m doing this.
It’s not just for me. It’s not about chasing titles or feeding ambition. It’s about paying it forward — to give the next generation a lighter burden to carry, to help them embrace life with dignity and grace. That’s the dream. That’s the mission.
So yes, I accept this journey. With all its pain, loneliness, and quiet battles. I pray hard — for strength, for clarity, for peace of mind. I want my mental health to stay intact. I want my spiritual life to grow alongside this academic pursuit.
No one truly understands the depth of struggle that comes with being a doctorate student. I often joke that I have “no life” now — just me, my laptop, and the endless world of the internet. I barely go out. I rarely see friends.
But someday, I hope to look back and say: “I did it well.” And that everything I gave up, everything I endured, was worth it — not just for me, but for those who come after me.