Short and Mad

I was intending to write about something else, way more specific, this week, but I can't seem to settle my mind on anything at the moment.  Hence, this rather short post, full of mad ramblings.

VW had her baby on Friday night; I found out yesterday evening.  I wasn't half as emotional as I thought I'd be, even when I spoke to her, but I am more excited, and proud, than I've ever been for a friend before*.  Probably because I've never been there during any other friends' pregnancies; watching it all develop, and talking about the gory details.  I've actually felt part of this; in a totally healthy, knowing-where-the-boundaries-are, kinda way, and hope that I can watch little Charlie boy grow up; which again, I've missed out on with friends.  I'm not as broody as I thought I'd be either, hurrah!  I think I've got over all that and, while I still think having a baby must be incredible, I'm not as hung up about me having a baby.  Aside from @sarahwithstars, who knows how much she means to me, VW has become one of my closest friends, and I guess it could seem that I'm living the baby thing vicariously though her.  Maybe I am.  I think I've come to realise, with a little help, that there are other things in life, besides s.e.x., and children and, as a spoonie, I've got to focus on the things I can do, rather than those I can't/might not.  Also, I think mother might have twigged how I've been feeling, though I thought I'd hidden it pretty well, cos yesterday she was talking about the practicalities of how I could hold Charlie.  I dunno, it's just the way she said it, like she felt a bit sorry for me, and that at least VW might let me 'borrow' her baby for a bit.  Borrowing is fine by me now though, I need my sleep!

Dad had the 'your mother and I aren't going to be around forever' talk to me yesterday, in regards to what I was doing about a PhD.  Dad isn't one for serious convos; in fact, he isn't one for any type of convo, due to a brain injury he suffered years ago, followed by hydrocephalus, which totally affected his social interaction skills.  So when he does try to talk to me seriously, I do make the effort to properly listen, even when I don't agree.  He said he wanted to see me doing something I enjoyed, and that I'm interested in, beyond the four walls of our, rather bijoux, bungalow, and that a PhD would mean me getting a job in a place I'm already happy and confident in., i.e. the University. 

Now, I dunno whether my parents are a bit naïve, or just very optimistic, cos obviously a PhD does not guarantee a job.  It's definitely a step towards becoming a lecturer, which I'd love to do, or a researcher, which I could do – though this strikes me as a pretty lonely career; surely one of the main aspects of spoonies achieving employment is the social side? – But it's not a guarantee.  Yes, a PhD would give me something to do for the next three years, and would hopefully lead on to something, but I can't justify putting myself through all that as a cure for boredom, and if nothing came of it in the end, I'd be gutted.  That realisation has just hit me as I typed it; not that I might not get anything after a PhD – I'm not stupid, I know the score – but how I'd feel about that.  Not great, judging by how I'm feeling right now, simply imagining it! 

On the other hand, I've always quite liked the idea of teaching – I am from a family of teachers, though I'm adopted… Nurture 1: Nature 0 – and I think I'd be best suited at the further education level; where students are a bit more… accepting.  Teaching is one of the few careers that I can see really fitting around my disability, though I would still need some support.  So why the hell don't I just get on with it?!  I'm nearly 26, and I've never had a 'proper' job.  I could totally do this.  I think… I even wrote down a title that I'd quite like to use yesterday, with three bullet points, and it wasn't all that scary!  Other people believe that I can do it too, which is very flattering, but a lot of added pressure not to fail, and are waiting for me to come knock on their doors for a chat.  Maybe I will; have that chat I mean!  It can't hurt to talk this all through to someone who can tell me all the gory details.  Talking to Bill was really helpful the other week, and I thought that I'd be even more honest with HH – my amazing MA supervisor – or The Legend, who were both aware how tough I found things last year.  I might just do that; even to just put all these crazy, mixed up thoughts, into some kind of order.

BW xxx

* I mean proud in relation to a friend reproducing here.  This is not the most proud I've ever been of a friend; that accolade goes to The Wife, particularly referring to the well-deserved news she gave me last night but, in general, that girl just makes me bloody proud!  Thank god I've had her to discuss all the above with too, cos trust me, my blog posts would be even more garbled without her.

Doctor When

I graduated on Saturday!  You are now looking at [the blog of] Bad Wolf MA *beams* - that is never gonna get old   Bit surreal really, being up on that stage with the lovely Floella 'Make a difference, change the world, make us proud' Benjamin.  Many times I thought I'd never make it to graduation, and I know I freaked out those around me too (Gloria, The Wife), but they kept me sane, and both of them have said how proud they are, which means a lot.

What also felt weird was being on campus as a non-student.  I know I've worked at the museum for four months now, but that feels different somehow, largely cos it's kinda on the edge of campus, and maybe just cos it feels like a job – albeit unpaid.  Not that I miss being a student, hell no.  Though, apparently, I want to do a PhD… Funny story, not.

After the ceremony on Saturday, I went up to the reception to see a few people, and was immediately accosted by The Prof. with 'I hear you want to do a PhD?'.  Slightly lost for words, I didn't immediately respond, other than to um and ahh a bit, but mother, well, she jumped on this bandwagon.  So mother and The Prof. set about planning my future, discussing possible funding opportunities and so on.  The Prof. then calls over another Film lecturer, Bill, and tells him how interested I am in taking on a doctorate.  Fortunately, for me, he had to rush off to pick up his brood, but not before agreeing wholeheartedly with The Prof. that there is absolutely no reason why I shouldn't apply for, and receive, funding.

Then we see my boss who mother, excited by the aforementioned conversation, harasses into giving his opinion on the matter.  He agreed with The Prof. and Bill – well of course he would – that there were many funding options available, and he'd even look into them for me – woo hoo.  Boss even asked if I wanted him to arrange for South to come and see me while I'm working at, to talk about possible PhD topics – OK, this I readily agreed to.   Sing was there too, and he was about the only one that listened to me that day when I said I didn't miss studying, and wasn't ready to do a PhD yet.  Though, that was probably because mother had left me unattended for all of a minute to go and get a drink.  Bless all these people for trying their best; they obviously believed that, not only did I want to do it, but that I could do it, which is naturally very flattering.

God, I even got a congratulations card from Gloria's daughter-in-law, saying 'Hope the PhD is going well'.  It really did feel like I was the only one that didn't think I was doing a PhD, though The Wife and VW both advised me not to do it, while Gloria told me to do what I thought was right, cos they listen, see?

I went home on a natural high from the festivities and, while the threat of a PhD had seemed to move closer, and it was all mother could talk about, it still only felt like a threat; not a promise.  However, on Monday night I switch on my BlackBerry – yup, I finally have a decent phone – to discover three e-mails from Boss; two of them information on post-graduate funding, while the other is informing me that he's arranged for Bill to come down to tomorrow (yesterday), to discuss applying for the Arts and Humanities Research Council (AHRC) grant, whose deadline closes on January 31^st.  Now, I have to admit, I knew when the AHRC deadline was, and I was deliberately trying to avoid it.  Well, if I wasn't planning on applying, why did I need to acknowledge it?  But, because Boss and Bill had been led to believe that this is what I wanted to do, they considered this 'urgent'.  Cue freak out.  Seriously, I cried, my heart raced; total flight response.  I just felt like I'd suddenly been pushed into a corner, and there was no way out – stupid I know.  The Wife, quite rightly, gave me a virtual slap, and told me to just say no, but I felt so guilty.  These people had gone to some trouble to try and help me out, and I was going to look like a right idiot, and totally waste their time, by saying that, actually, I don't want to do this. 

That physical reaction I had was almost the last bit of proof I needed that I really wasn't ready, it was similar to how I often felt during the MA; totally out of control, and overwhelmed.  It's like, I'd put the MA, and all my feelings towards it – good and bad – away in a box on a shelf in my mind, and I was quite happy with it just sitting there.  I knew it was there, and it was well within my reach, but it was tucked away enough that it wasn't bothering me, and I wasn't constantly tripping over it.  Now though, with all this talk of the PhD, it was like someone had come in and found my MA box, tipped it all over the floor, and left a right mess in my already cluttered mind.  The MA is still comparatively recent too, so all these feelings are pretty raw, which doesn't help.  Suppose it's like after giving birth, you'd say 'never again', but a couple years later... Yeah well, I haven't forgotten the pain yet.

So anyway, I was worried.  I knew I had to tell Bill the full story but, aside from looking like a time waster, I knew I'd probably get upset talking about all this, and I hate crying in front of people.  Especially male people.  Bill was 'booked' to be there at 10 a.m., for when I arrived at the museum, and I was worried that mother – who drops me off – would insist on staying, and I wouldn't get a word in edgeways.  Fortunately, Bill was characteristically late, and mother had already gone.

Bill, and Boss – we stayed in the main office, so it wasn't exactly private – were great!  Neither of them had realised how uncertain I was, and Bill was so understanding, telling me I should only ever do the PhD when I was ready – which is what The Legend said to me ages ago.  I told Bill how tough I'd found the MA – I could totally feel myself getting upset – and he agreed I should give myself some time to really think about what I wanted, and take that pressure off.  He could see I'd been flattered by the fact that everyone believed I could do it – everyone in the Film department apparently, *blushes* – but I shouldn't do it because other people wanted me to, or because there was a window of opportunity; there would be more.  Finally, Bill said that I was in the perfect place being in the museum, and I could use that to my advantage; if I come across something interesting while cataloguing, that I'd like to research further, that could become the basis of my thesis.  Equally, Boss said that if I came up with an idea that I'd like to look into, and he knew that the museum held relevant artefacts, he'd let me use my time there to view them.  I'm to use my position as an advantage – not something that occurs often – and call on Bill/HH/The Legend/Sing/South if and when I ever need them cos, even though I'm not a student anymore, I'm still 'one of their favourites', so they'd make an exception for me.

Aaaaand relax!  That convo was just what I needed, and to think, it was with Bill, i.e. A Bloke.  They do have hearts sometimes.  I was planning to have this kind of conversation in the near future anyway, to clear the air, and try and sort out how I felt about a PhD, but I was thinking of talking to HH, or The Legend.  Although initially I freaked out about being put in that position, I'm glad I was in the end, as it made me confront the issue, and voice how I really felt.  OK, so Bill and Boss maybe weren't the ideal sounding boards but, actually, I think that almost helped, as I had to a) really compose myself, and make my thoughts cohesive, rather than be an emotional wreck and b), it's always supposed to be easier to talk to someone less involved.  Personally, I'm not very good at talking, and I have to really bond with people, and trust them within an inch of my life before I tell them anything remotely juicy, so Gloria, VW, and The Wife know everything, I should think they need counselling now.  So I was quite surprised how honest I was with Bill; maybe I've grown up a bit, and learnt to speak up for myself.  It's only taken 25 and a half years, not bad.  Or maybe I trust Bill more than I thought, and I should give him more credit, after all, I've known him for over four years, and he and the Film/English department have been incredibly supportive; still are it appears.

So I feel much better, like a weight has been lifted.  A weight that I wasn't completely aware even existed.  As far as I was concerned, I had no immediate plans to do a PhD; it was like a threatening storm cloud, just viewable in the distance.  After the events of the weekend, said cloud was right overhead, about to drown me, but now it's back on the horizon again.  It doesn't seem that threatening anymore either, weirdly.  When I repeated my conversation with Bill to mother – not exactly word for word, but she got the gist – I actually felt positive, and even talked about my next graduation with The Wife – who was appalled.  Knowing I've still got the support of the staff that I've grown to love over the past four years is an incredible boost, and having the time and resources to make my decision without any pressure is brilliant.  I'm not saying I will definitely be applying next year and, even if I did, there's no guarantee I'd get funding anyway, but I do feel that it is something that I'm probably going to do now, whereas before, it was probably not.  Might change my mind again tomorrow, knowing me I probably will.

BW MA xxx