Approximate reading time: 7 min

OMG!

Can I just start by saying ….

Look

at my headline score …..

81%!!!!!!!!!!

That’s my highest EVER!!!

Man, do I feel accomplished;-)

(Please link back to this post if you want to know what the hell I am talking about)

Much to my dismay,

I had to apply for a referral for my dissertation, which was originally due on the 10th of Sept.

I know, I know what you are thinking….

“You will have had a

WHOLE 6 weeks

off from school to do this, Gayle!!!”

You would be correct.

(Trust me, I have lamented feverishly over this VERY EXACT FACT for the last 4 weeks.)

The gist of it is that I still haven’t received one of my transcripts back from the coder who ‘volunteered’ to code it for me.

(This would be an Adult Attachment Interview coder, who is qualified to code what attachment strategy the participants use )

Reminder: My dissertation is on the role of attachment in involuntary single women over the age of 45.

They originally agreed to code two transcripts for me, which I sent off at the beginning of June. When they finally responded to my numerous emails, asking for an update, they said they had been snowed under and would probably only be able to get the first transcript back to me last Friday and the second one, hopefully, by the end of August.

Giving me exactly 10 days to complete my dissertation.

Seeing as it has taken 2 months and 17 days, and I still haven’t received the first transcript back, forgive me for being slightly dubious that the second one will magically be finished in less than three weeks. I subsequently found another coder, who very kindly agreed to code the second transcript for me, at such short notice. It took her exactly 1 week and 6 days to get the transcript coded and sent back to me….which I received this week.

(I couldn’t be more grateful to this godsend of a human being.)

How do I feel?

Frustrated as hell.

Livid.

Furious.

Enraged.

Overlooked.

Let’s just say it has been a whole month of processing an entire myriad of negative emotions. I filled my summer holiday with dog and cat sitting jobs so that I could dedicate myself to getting this dam thing finished. My lecturer has reminded me that when you opt for getting people to volunteer to code for you,

(Instead of paying for it out of your own pocket)

then this is often the risk that you take.

He might as well have poured petrol on my internal flames.

I originally asked two other coders if they would be able to help, and both of them declined due to having too many other work commitments.

Respect to them.

Imagine volunteering to work in a charity shop, and then, when they ask you why you keep arriving at 11 am every morning, instead of 9 am…. you indignantly declare….

“But I am volunteering my free time.”

Or how about a lawyer taking on a pro-bono client and then leaving them sitting in jail for

2 months and 17 days

because, after all….you are only ‘volunteering to help’

Frankly, I think it’s bullshit.

Just because you are volunteering doesn’t mean you do a half-arsed job. It’s your responsibility, as a professional adult, to know what you can and cannot do and take into consideration other people’s time lines. Yes, of course, life happens, sometimes things get on top of us and we bite off more than we can chew….then, at least, have the decency to reach out and communicate with the person who is relying on you.

So, as you can see, I have not been a happy camper.

(My inner child parts have been having a party)

I realise that there is a LOT more going on here for me.

There is a huge part of me that is absolutely HATING this dissertation topic.

It feels like an emotional minefield.

Why did I think that analysing and then writing about other people’s childhood experiences was a good idea?

I am consumed with panic about saying something that might hurt or offend one of my participants, who have all very kindly offered to bare their souls to me.

I just want it finished.

However,

at the same time, I am learning so much about my own attachment strategy…

….the entangled mess that it is…

So I am deeply grateful that I chose this topic.

Even as it continues to highlight aspects of myself that frankly, I would rather not look at.

(A post for another day- when all of this is finished 🙂 )

And finally, add to that

(Yes, there is more)

Neurotic Angels’ all-consuming thoughts of absolute panic:

“What now?”

What now…?????”

In a little over 2 months, you will have your master’s!

What will you do with it?”

I have no answer for her.

I was 32 when I emphatically decided I didn’t want to be a teacher anymore….18 years; a shit load of studying and one Master’s degree later…and lo and behold, what do you know…

I am still a teacher.

(All be it a wiser and way more intuned one;-)

I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.

Clarity eludes me.

God help me!

(Wait a minute!!!

I don’t even believe in God anymore!!!)

THERE. IS. NO. HOPE. PEOPLE.

So, this whole month feels like an all too long lesson of embracing the ‘love/ hate’ paradox of my dissertation.

Practising being patient.

Focusing on what I can do.

(Doing a shit load of puzzles.)

Not allowing my emotions to overwhelm me.

Eating healthily!

(I have not binge eaten ONCE this entire month! Wohoooooo!)

Reminding myself that “shit” happens, people stuff up.

(It’s not personal)

And playing on repeat:

It’s the journey, not the destination!!!

It’s the journey,

NOT the destination!!!

PS On Friday, I went to church for the first time in years.

(I know, right, it’s a bloody miracle.)

I ‘volunteered’ to help my old flatmate, Richard, who had organised a Goa curry night to raise money for his charity.

(Please note: I turned up on time!)

He did warn me that there would be a church service before the evening’s meal. He gave me plenty of opportunity to escape.

(Richard knows me too well;-)

The last time I went to church, I think, was in 2019.

All I remember was feeling such utter rage at having to denounce my sins.

(Disproportional fury, people. Fury!;-)

I decided from that point on that maybe, just maybe,

going into churches was not good for my mental health.

But Richard was preaching the sermon…and I really wanted to hear my friend speak.

So, I sucked it up and what do you know ….

(No, alas, I didn’t have any divine transformation that saved my soul;-)

But……..

I felt nothing but peace.

Not an inch of fury in sight.

(I Am HEALED!!!!!)

Richard spoke beautifully.

He was calm, centred and absolutely glowing up there!

I felt so immensely proud of him.

I love that he is so passionate about his faith.

(I especially love that he is so accepting of me and my lack of faith.)

I think it’s amazing that he started his own charity in Goa, thirteen years ago, that provides opportunities for volunteers to go and support the local orphanages.

The dinner raised £500, which is going to be put towards resourcing a special needs class that they are hoping to start at one of the local schools.

I had a really lovely evening all around.

I felt calm, happy and connected.

(Neaurotic Angel dialled out for the night;-)

I was reminded of that sense of community and belonging that so many people get from faith-based institutions, which in itself is a truly beautiful thing.

I was very conscious that I need more of this in my life.

I shall work on that!

(Clearly, there has been SOME growth and expansion, these last 18 years.

ALL IS NOT LOST:-)