The Weight of It All

 The defense is drawing near — and now, the pressure is hitting harder than ever. The stress is real. The deadlines are looming. And yes, the procrastination I swore wouldn’t get to me? It’s here too, loud and unapologetic.

Honestly, I didn’t expect to reach this level of burnout. I’m not even close to finishing my paper. I’m still in the thick of writing — trying to stitch together meaning, coherence, and purpose — but suddenly, my mental health feels like it’s spiraling. The migraines are more frequent. The headaches. The blinking fits. The heaviness behind my eyes. It’s all too much.

And I cry — sometimes in silence, sometimes in secret. Because how can I just give up now? Mahal ang tuition! But more than that, mas mahal ang oras. I’ve come this far — how can I walk away now? No. I won’t.

I have to finish this. Even if it means sacrificing parts of myself. And that’s the hardest part — feeling like my mind is breaking into pieces while I try to hold it all together. I ask myself why I’m pushing so hard for this doctorate degree — when it’s testing my mental, emotional, and physical strength to the limit.

The truth is: all I want to do right now is cry. Not because I’m weak, but because I’m overwhelmed. It’s not the kind of tired you get from lack of sleep — it’s the kind of tired that lives in your bones, in your soul.

There are moments I just want to pause — sit somewhere quiet, feel the breeze, and remind myself why I’m fighting so hard. Because the painful part of all this isn’t just the work itself — it’s the realization that you’re doing it all alone. And yet, when I finally succeed, when I finally cross that finish line, everyone will clap. They’ll celebrate the outcome — but they’ll never see the lonely, sleepless, tear-filled road it took to get there.

Right now, I feel… empty.

Not the kind of emptiness that longs for company. But the kind of emptiness that comes from carrying too much. I have so many responsibilities on my plate, I can’t even savor the journey. I’m emotionally full — yet spiritually lacking. Like my soul is quietly asking for something I can’t name.

Still, despite everything, I’ve started to love myself again. I’m slowly winning back the pieces of me I gave away too freely before. I’m proud of that. I’ve learned to stop putting everyone else first. I’ve let go of the habit of prioritizing others’ needs while burying my own.

Yes, I feel like I’m walking this road alone now — but I believe it’s for something greater. I believe this pain has purpose.

I’m excited — not because the road is easy, but because the destination is worth it.

So I’ll take the process. I’ll honor the progress. Even if it’s slow. Even if it’s messy. Even if I have to cry along the way.

Because I know one day, I’ll look back and say:

I made it. And it was worth it.