The emotional toll road

"Everyday is a winding road,

I get a little bit closer.

Everyday is a faded sign,

I get a little bit closer to feeling fine." - Sheryl Crow

Another road marker passed. This one said "dissertation" on it. Now, I'm headed toward the city of "defense," for a pit stop before I can settle into to "Ph.D."

The long and winding road, indeed. At 34, with 5.5 years invested in a doctoral program, it shouldn't seem as though much time has elapsed. It's been about 17 percent of my entire life; that percentage will decrease steadily as I continue to move beyond this point.

The tolls, though, have added up. I've wreaked havoc on my digestive tract; stress levels and bodily functions do not always mesh well. And, my mental health has suffered, too. I'm a fan of psychiatrists, counselors and licensed clinical social workers, for sure. But, I'm ready to kick the prescription antidepressants to the curb. Oh, and let's not even talk about the body image issues; the hormone cortisol is produced in the body as a result of stress, which leads right to a fat gut (and, that's no joke, since the gut holds bad fat: http://stress.about.com/od/stresshealth/a/cortisol.htm). My career is ... hmm... nonexistent, at the moment. I got off the path to middle management 5.5 years ago, and it seems I'll be re-entering at nearly the same point. Sadly, the 5 years of being a graduate assistant - with no substantial supervisory, budgetary, or visionary experience in the meantime - don't hold a lot of weight with employers. Neither do the years of research team participation since, to date, those have yielded only a single article with my name on it. And, hey there, debt! I'd managed to avoid you until embarking on a doctoral experience. Now, it seems you are here to stay. You and I can look forward to 10 years of a payment plan together. No house/condo, new car, vacation home, fancy furniture, memories of world travel, fame, or progeny to show for that debt. Well, unless you count this 281-page document I've labored over - which is kind of like a baby. Except that it will never grow up to care for my elderly self.

Of course, when I began school (again), my road map looked different than it does today. I thought I'd be on the faculty track when I halted progress toward administrative experience. Seems somewhat laughable now. Don't get me wrong, I am intelligent. I'm actually a good teacher, too. But, I cannot and will not manage the stress of an assistant professor on the tenure track (see the aforementioned digestive and mental health issues). So, the vision I had of shaping future practitioners in student affairs is hazy, like an aged photograph where the faces are tough to make out.  

I sound defeated, don't I? Some days, that is the pervasive feeling. A completed dissertation is anticlimactic. 

What I lack is a plan. The questions of old - Who am I? What do I know? and, What will I do with what I know? - remain. In my worst moments, I berate myself for this expensive ego trip I took. Why else would I have abandoned a career, health/fitness, and the road to financial security?

Maybe I'll never have answers to any of my questions. This is the life I chose, and, on so many days, it's the one I want. Today, I'm scared about my next steps, and my tone and thoughts reflect that. But, I am who I am - and who I am becoming - because of the encounters I've had, the decisions I've made, and the paths I've taken. 

All told, I have grown and learned immeasurably through the 5.5 years that have passed. I met and married my amazing husband - he's the co-pilot for the remainder of my life's journey. I have incredible friends, a life in a big city (hey, who knew I'd enjoy that?), connections in my field to people across the country, and more. My family relationships have grown even stronger. I've worked with students who inspire me, motivate me, drive me to be a powerful educator. I know more about myself. I've had this experience... I've lived the intellectual dream. I worked toward a goal, and I have succeeded. Now that it is (nearly) over, I have new possibilities. I have free time. I can read books, take yoga classes (to help reduce my cortisol levels and rebalance my body), apply for jobs that interest me, walk aimlessly through my city and pretend to be a tourist, learn to cook (my husband would appreciate that!), find a church home, reconnect with people, and just be in each moment.  The grass may look greener on the other side of the fence - whether it's the past or an imagined alternate life - but I'm going to water the lawn here. I've paid some exorbitant fees to journey as I have; now, it's time to appreciate the view.