It Finally Showed Up. Now What?

I seriously can’t even believe this.

Today I received an unusually wrapped item in mail. I stared at it for the first few moments as though I’d never before laid eyes on such a thing. This certainly isn’t the case, but I was shocked nonetheless. You see, I had gone online to request a postgraduate admissions catalogue from one of the schools I was interested in. It was supposed to arrive within ten business days, so I excitedly ran to check the mail every single day. To my disappointment, it never showed up. 

That was four months ago.

Much has happened in the last four months. Things have changed at a rapid pace. My goals, my career path, me. The notion of pursuing my Masters (much less a PhD) has managed to slip to the very back of my mind without me noticing or even caring. I’ve been so caught up with my new plans and aspirations, so enveloped in a blanket of newfound passion and positive expectation, that I had once again convinced myself that my grad school dreams weren’t important.

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Grad School Or Bust: Test Anxiety and Armpits (Part 2)

Some people are simply born to do or be something. Singers sing, writers write, bakers bake. For those who have an undeniable talent in a particular area, their life purpose is usually obvious from a young age. To do anything else would seem quite unnatural.

Well, I think this is how it was for me. I’d spent the vast majority of my life saying I wanted to study psychology and contribute something notable to the field. If I didn’t grow up to be a psychiatrist, what else on God’s green Earth could I do? More importantly, who would I be? Be it wrong or be it right, my entire identity was soundly wrapped up in the notion of me becoming a therapist one day. It was the pillar of all my other life goals. I truly believed it was who I was.

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Grad School Or Bust: History, Please Don’t Repeat Yourself (Part 1)

For some reason, just thinking about the topic I am going to talk about today turns me into a full-blown nervous wreck. Perhaps it is because this particular life goal of mine means the entire world to me. Or maybe it is due to the fact that the mere pursuit of it will present definite challenges. Could it be that I am afraid of another potential failure? Am I concerned about what Plan B will be if this all goes to shit in the end?

I don’t know what it is about graduate school that renders me so anxiety stricken, but I am going to have to learn how to talk about this without wanting to retreat into the nearest corner, curl up into the fetal position and incessantly rock like a rocking chair. Why? Because I want to apply for grad school—for the third time.

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