Advice and/or thoughts on a first year PhD student dropping out?

[graduateconfusion3]

Hi, all. I've been on these boards for a long while now (under a different username, though, so that my identity would not be shown with this post) and have gotten some seriously great advice throughout the years (2 app seasons and post-). So, here I am again. 

 

I'm in the first year of a PhD program in the humanities. 24 years old. Decently far from home. Fully funded and haven't dipped into any debt.

I'm really unhappy and maybe even a little bit depressed. 

There is a decent mix of impostor syndrome, not thinking I love the subject as much as I thought I did, and feeling like I've lost my identity. 

I am slightly ashamed of myself and I don't want to disappoint anyone -- my department, family, the people I've met and, most of all, myself. I worked so hard for 4-5 years to get to this point, and once I got here, I am realizing that I don't think it is what I want. 

Not even sure I want to teach anymore, and, even if I did, there are little to no jobs in my field... 

 

Everyone keeps on saying that "it's a first year thing" and "first year is the worst" and "give it time" or something of that nature. I don't even know what to think anymore. Part of this whole confusion is that if I were to drop out, I have abso-fucking-lutely no idea what I would do with myself. Hence the feeling of a lost of identity -- just not all that sure who I am anymore. Need some serious soul searching, that's for sure! 

 

I've seen a psychologist and have spoken to some friends. The former was some good help, so I figured I'd consult some other confused and/or professional strangers on the boards for more chatter.

 

Anyone else having thoughts like this? Would love to hear some experiences of and advice from others.

 

Thank you in advance for any help. Really appreciate any sentiments in this time of quasi-existential crisis. 

Edited February 4, 2014 by graduateconfusion3

[danieleWrites]

There are a few things you can do.

First, explore non-teaching career options with your current degree and with a PhD in your field. Don't get tunnel vision (it's a psychology degree, see only psychology jobs!). Be a bit creative with it. Someone with a psychology degree might find themselves uniquely situated to be a lobbyist, work middle-management, become part of the blogorati, become a movie director, do international diplomacy, and so on. The lack of debt puts you in a wonderful position, particularly if you can keep it up. If all you have to look forward to is a job you're less sure you're interested in (teaching at a university) that you'll have to compete with everyone and their dog for, of course you're going to get depressed and think you're not interested in your field. Stifled prospects means stifled creativity. Being a first year, this also gives you options to take courses that might help you out. Our hypothetical psychologist could take political science courses to broaden their job market appeal. Departments are very aware of hiring situations and they're ranking and prestige depends on not only quality graduates, but quality, employed graduates. If you can find some potential employment prospects outside of academia that interest you that might require a few non-departmental classes, that's something you need to discuss with your adviser so you can get into a more interdisciplinary route, if you like.

Second, take the summer off and turn it into your 'gap year'. Instead of hitch-hiking across Europe (it was the thing to do in the 60s) or going home and taking up a part-time job, use that time to explore further interests. If our hypothetical psychologist was interested in lobbying or diplomacy, spending a week or two in Washington DC or NYC and the UN might generate some ideas and, perhaps, a renewed interest in the program. If you can't come up with any interests at all, use the summer to do nothing at all. Go lay in a hammock and read trashy novels all day long. Plan to go back in the fall, but don't make it a gotta-do thing. If you find yourself getting completely sick at the thought of going back once August rolls around, give yourself permission to drop out, or to go talk to your adviser about sitting out the fall semester for your mental health. (Your psychologist can help you with this.)

Third, keep in mind that for the 24 years you've been around, you've been in school for, what, 20 of them? Everyone gets burned out. I have no idea of it's possible, but you might see if there's a way for you to take a gap year of sorts. Maybe get into the Fulbright Scholarship program where, instead of going to school, you go to another country and teach English for a year, or some other "study abroad" or "humanitarian" thing that universities are always encouraging students to do. Doing something interesting, worthwhile, and, more importantly, not your program of study, can give your brain a break. This break might be enough for you to get enough distance so that you can make a decision about whether or not to drop out without wondering if you're doing it because of First Year Blues or whatnot.

Fourth, check out what kinds of opportunities are available to you with the degree you have. What jobs are out there? What can you do with it if you drop out? Don't just think "Join the Army!" because, really, the Navy is less stressful on your joints. Maybe you need to move to a different field. Maybe you need to open a small business. Maybe you need to join the Peace Corps.

Fifth, you're seeing a counselor, great!, but don't listen to the people who tell you that it's just a first year thing. They mean well, but it doesn't feel good to have your feelings dismissed like that. Sure, most first years go through this kind of existential crisis. Sure, all of us get burned out at some point and wonder WTF am I Doing to myself! We daydream of the joy that baristas must feel. Whether or not you're feeling the perfectly normal thing we all feel at some point or not isn't nearly as material as the fact that you are feeling it. There is nothing wrong with feeling the way that you do. Give yourself permission to feel that way. Give yourself permission to realistically consider changing your life trajectory (don't call it dropping out). Give yourself permission to do what's right for your future, not what other people think you need to do, or worse, what you think other people think you need to do. The people who matter, the ones who really do care about you, are the people who would rather that you have a life where you feel good about yourself rather than a life where you're suffering because you got backed into the "can't quit" mentality based on plans you made when you were a teenager. Only in a PhD program would someone feel horrifically guilty for not sticking to long-term, expensive plans based on teenaged dreams. Give yourself permission to make mature, adult choices based on realistic assessments of yourself, your future, and your interests. There is a catch: right now, you don't have any interests, so you can't make mature, adult choices. I'm intensely interested in physics and I regularly mourn my not-in-a-physics-program life. However, if I dropped my English program, I could do so in a reasoned out way supported by evidence and research because I would be able to say that as much as I love writing, I also love physics, and I notice that the work that I'm doing know is focused on physics. (It's not, because I'm actually doing sociology in an English program, cool, huh?) You can't do that because you've lost interest.

Sixth, consider medication. I'm assuming that the word psychologist means that you haven't seen a psychiatrist. A lot of people reject anti-depressants for a variety of very good reasons. However, you're well aware that you're depressed and that you have no interests, not even in whatever it was that drove you to start a PhD program. Depression will suck the life right out of you. Medication for depression can return your body to the proper chemical balance it needs in order for your thoughts and feelings to function optimally. Your lack of interest is likely to be more of a chemical problem than an emotional one. A few months of your body being un-depressed can help you get into a place where you can make decisions for yourself. Talk to your psychologist or your doctor.

[levoyous]

I'm not accepted yet, so maybe you shouldn't listen to me, but I couldn't bear to let your post hang with no response. I'm a bit older than you and have spent as long as most people spend on a PhD in a non-academic career, so perhaps some kind of outside perspective might be useful.

 

I haven't been in your shoes, so I can't tell you the first year is the hardest or that it will get better. It might not. What I can tell you is that almost anything you do in life will become monotonous, even boring, and you'll have times when you wonder if you really care about it or ever did. That is normal adult life for almost everyone except the lucky few who are really happy people wherever they are, or happened to find the niche in the world that aligns perfectly with their inclinations. So much of life is about keeping moving to forget that it's all a groundless choice.

 

It's very common outside of academia for people to do jobs they aren't thrilled about, or even hate, for a long time. It could be because they're in debt, or lack other options, or because what they really care in life is  their family or hobbies, and just need a job to pay the bills. While I wouldn't recommend settling for something you hate, it's a normal situation lots of people find themselves in as they are figuring out what to do next. Maybe it would help to think of your PhD that way: don't think about whether you're going to finish, or whether you want to Be a Literature Professor, or whatever. Ignore those existential issues, and think about it as a job you do to make money while you explore other options or build your escape route. It's actually rare for a 24-year-old to find a comfortable, intellectually stimulating job, so consider yourself lucky to have that option while you think.

 

As a practical matter, if you can at least tolerate the situation for another year, you might consider that having a free MA wouldn't be a bad thing to stick it out for; certain professions (the nonprofit sector, for example) require advanced degrees but don't particularly care what they are. Most people who need them for professional advancement have to take on quite a bit of debt to get them. So that's something to think about, even if it shouldn't be the deciding factor.

 

All of DanieleWrites' advice about how to think about your possibilities is good. Coming from the other direction - non-academic career moving into academia - I've been surprised how many connections there are between my work and not just my current field, but lots of others. I basically feel my career options are endless - and will continue to be endless when I'm done with my PhD. My biggest advice, I guess, would be to ignore all the stupid narratives about humanities people being unemployable, and include your PhD (whether you continue for another year or another 5 years) as just one part of that vast array of options. Maybe you won't feel so trapped if you're not trying to shove yourself into a narrow academic mold.

[Brisingamen]

Maybe it would help to think of your PhD that way: don't think about whether you're going to finish, or whether you want to Be a Literature Professor, or whatever. Ignore those existential issues, and think about it as a job you do to make money while you explore other options or build your escape route. It's actually rare for a 24-year-old to find a comfortable, intellectually stimulating job, so consider yourself lucky to have that option while you think.

 

As a practical matter, if you can at least tolerate the situation for another year, you might consider that having a free MA wouldn't be a bad thing to stick it out for; certain professions (the nonprofit sector, for example) require advanced degrees but don't particularly care what they are. Most people who need them for professional advancement have to take on quite a bit of debt to get them. So that's something to think about, even if it shouldn't be the deciding factor.

 

Also coming from a series of jobs and contracts outside academia, I endorse this point of view. Every job has its low points, every jobs has its low phases, in fact. Even if you do something you love, it can and does feel like drudgery sometimes (six years of marriage have underlined that). I'm going into this thinking of it as a stimulating job. It's not going to pay as well as some others, but lots of jobs don't pay as well as others.

 

Be aware that you're not the only person who will feel the burnout or be disillusioned by what your dream was or start to think you want to shift focus completely. I know several people who trained for one thing and then went into something else (journalism school --> non-profit work, Montessori --> copyediting, agricultural science --> counselling, PhD public health --> fundraising for an NGO, financial planning --> PhD Communication Studies, software engineering --> PhD English, Masters in microbiology --> social work --> consulting, life sciences PhD --> social activism --> non-profit work). This is not a failure -- some people have their lives planned out or mapped out and stick to that, others don't. In a way I think those that trained for a particular job had a ruder shock than those who felt their degree wasn't "useful" in the first place and enjoyed it before moving on to something else, transferring their skills to another field. You will learn skills and those skills can be taken elsewhere. The important thing is to not get stuck into visualizing yourself doing only that one thing and then feeling awful because opportunities to do that one thing are few. 

 

This is a challenging job -- you can do it -- but if it doesn't work for you, you are still free to get the most you want to out of it (say that MA, which would be free) and then step out. In the meantime, all the best. 

[graduateconfusion3]

danieleWrites, levoyous, Brisingamen,

 

Thank you all so much for the replies. I think that taking the summer off seems like it will be necessary. By off, I mean not taking any courses and reading/studying what I want to study. Of course, I have to work so that I can pay my rent and such, but maybe I'll look for something on the mindless spectrum. 

 

The advice about sticking through the free MA is what I've been hearing frequently from friends, former professors and myself. I think that this might be a good route if I can stick it out. 

 

I definitely have interests in the subject matter, but I think what is detracting from my yearn continue academic work is all of the coursework that I have absolutely no interest in. It's like doing 2-3 years of courses that you're really not interested in to then be able to comp/do a dissertation on something you fully enjoy. 

[TakeruK]

I've done "first year of grad school" twice and I can sympathize with how you feel and agree with the others that told you that first year is the worse. Here's my brief story:

 

In Canada, the normal path is to do a 2 year Masters then a 3 year PhD (if at the same school) or a 4 year PhD (if at a different school). Both programs are fully funded and there is little difference between a Canadian Masters student and an American PhD student in the first 2 years of their program. You have to re-apply (including transcripts, LORs, etc.) between Masters and PhD programs, even if you stay at the same school with the same advisor! However, I decided to go to the US for my PhD so I started all over again last year! 

 

There are a few rare graduate students that absolutely 100% know for sure what they want to do with their lives. They have a research plan mapped out, know what they want to do with postdocs (or if they are going to go in industry etc.) They have set long term career goals and are confident in themselves! But I think that the majority of graduate students, including me, are not as certain about what they want to do with their future. Outwardly, at school, we all try to put up a positive front, but we all have existential crises.

 

Personally, I go through phases where I think "wow, what am I doing with my life?", especially when things are not going well research-wise. I find it really helpful to have a strong social network to help you get through these phases. I feel a lot better when I can talk about how I am feeling, whether it is to my super supportive spouse, or my friends at school who have the same feelings as me. When I start talking to people about it, I find that almost everyone feels this way, and it helps. I've also attended panel sessions where professors tell stories of feeling this way in grad school, and even when they have tenure track positions! I think it really really helps, for me, when I realise that these feelings are normal and a lot of people share them.

 

I don't know what field you are in, because in my field you can't just take the summer off--you're expected to work on research and earn your RA pay! However, summers are excellent for finding new motivation and interests. In my both of my first years, I had so much coursework and teaching requirements that fitting in time for research was almost a chore. I was already exhausted from everything else (not to mention adjusting to a new place, with new people, away from family!). This is not ideal, because for most of us, our interest in our research was the main reason for grad school, and having it become something to neglect or avoid is terrible. But in the summer, our only commitment is research. I found that this changed my perspective completely! I had time to focus on research problems that I was actually interested in without additional outside pressure. I also had more time to schedule things I enjoyed doing outside of school, without feeling guilty for not working. Summer is a great refresher and I hope this summer goes well for you!

 

I also keep myself motivated by reminding myself of the perks. As others said in this post, most entry level positions for people our age do not grant us so much freedom. I've worked in mindless jobs in college to pay the bills and it sucked. My whole family have been working class and my main career goal is to end up in a job that values me for my "brain" instead of my labour. So, compared to a lot of others things I might be doing instead of grad school, grad school is hard but pretty rewarding.

 

Also, in my field, you might not be able to take summers off to travel or do fun things, but your supervisors will send you to many conferences. I always try to tag on a week before or after each conference for personal travel (joined by my spouse when possible). My family were immigrants so we did not have the money to take family trips outside of North America when I was growing up. We mostly did road trips which was also a great experience. But a lot of my college friends did things like backpack in Europe and traveled the world a lot more extensively. In academia, going to conferences is finally giving me the opportunity to see things I really didn't think I would ever be able to see! 

 

My advice to you would be to stick it out for the MA and see how you feel after that. In Canada, the general mindset is that a student interested in research would do the 2 year Masters and then at that point, decide whether they want to commit to this for a career (and then go on to a PhD) or decide that they would prefer to do something else and then use their Masters to do other work, sometimes in related careers (e.g. teach at a college, be the science officer at a museum, use their analysis experience to work for a startup, etc.). About half of the people who start a Masters program in Canada will not go on to do a PhD. This is a similar attrition rate to US PhD programs, except the Masters is a natural stopping point (with a thesis defense and everything). Personally, I think having the two distinct program is much better--it doesn't force someone to commit to 5+ years right away and stopping at the Masters is a smaller drain on resources (and the student's time) than quitting after 4 years or something. 

 

So, I think you can treat the first two years as a "trial run". See how you feel about everything and then decide if you want to stay. I think the academic year is very lopsided, and if you're only partway through year 1, then you haven't seen a full "cycle" yet! If you decide that academia isn't for you, try not to feel like you've failed or anything. I think there is a lot of stigma with "quitting" a PhD program but it's far better for everyone, especially you, if you go do something that you actually enjoy instead! (Again, another reason why I think there should be two separate programs, as that lessens the stigma on someone not going on to a PhD!). 

[juilletmercredi]

I totally disagree that the first year is the worst.  For me, the first year was one of the BEST.  Everything was new and shiny and I was still pretty excited.

Here are some thoughts: While my first two years of grad school were okay, towards the end of my second year I started to feel "done" and burned out, and I had a miserable third year and a pretty bad fourth year.  I still loved my field and wanted to do research, but I realized that I probably could've done most of what I wanted with a master's in my field or a related one.  I was tired of being on a grad student stipend, tired of a lot of politics of academia.  I contemplated dropping out.  Ultimately I decided to stay for a variety of reasons.

When I was seriously thinking about dropping out, I learned a few things:

-Everyone feels shame upon leaving academia, whether it's done leaving after the first year of grad school or leaving after having achieved tenure.  The academic system brainwashes you into thinking it's a vocation, a calling, a higher state of being that defines your identity and establishes the base of your worth as a person.  IT'S NOT.  It's just a field, just like any other - it's not really that different, inherently, from business administration or nursing or accounting or nonprofit work.  People move in and out of it all the time, much more than senior professors make it out to be.  The primary goal for anyone who has sincerely decided that they want to leave is to overcome that feeling of shame.

-So here's the tip to it: For me, there were three primary sources of shame:
--The internal.  Deal with this first.  There's the idea that you "worked so hard" and that if you just spend a little more time, you'll get the PhD.  F THAT.  Life is too short to be miserable and the time you've already spent is a sunk cost.  Regardless of whether you finish or not, you're never going to get it back.  So if you feel like you will be miserable, don't extend the misery for 4-5+ more years just because you've already spent a few months there.

--Perceived shame from friends and family.  I found that this was largely nonexistent.  My family of non-academics didn't really care what I chose to do to make money, and didn't value academia the same way I did.  They were nothing but supportive no matter WHAT I wanted to do, and were very sympathetic to not wanting to be a student anymore.  Same with friends.  I had friends who listened to my rants, volunteered job search help and offered to make connections.  Your real friends and family just want you to be happy; most of them do not have the hang-ups academics do about the line between a PhD and an MA or BA.  Venture out - talk to someone you feel really close to about your feelings, just one person.  You'll probably be surprised by what you find.

--Perceived shame from the department.  There are two ways this can go.  There are some departments that genuinely won't care - and I mean that in a good way.  They want all of their doctoral students to be happy, and they are made up of sane people who realize that academia is not for everyone and that it is completely healthy and normal for some students to choose to leave.  Although they won't be happy to see you leave, they will support you and be understanding.  Bless these departments.
Then there are the ones filled with egos who believe the party line about academia being a measure of self-worth, people who don't finish as being "lesser" beings who just "couldn't cut it," and will try to shame or guilt you into staying.  F THEM.  Seriously.  Forget what they think - you won't need them.  Just be polite and keep pushing.  Who cares what a bunch of old senior professors think of you when you're off having a fabulous career doing something else?  In 3 years you won't care.

-I also suggest seeing a psychologist.  For me, the psychologist helped me in two ways.  One, she helped me realize that there was no reason for me to feel ashamed or put so much pressure on myself for not liking academia the same way my colleagues and cohort mates did.  Two, she made me realize that I wasn't "trapped" in academia, and honestly that made ALL the difference.  Once I started looking for jobs and realizing that there were PLENTY of things I could do without a PhD, ironically, I felt happier.  No more was I a doctoral student simply because I couldn't do anything else; instead, I was making an active choice to be here, and I could leave whenever I wanted to.

You have no idea how much that improved my self-esteem and happiness.  I started treating graduate school as a regular job/career choice rather than the hallowed realm of austere scholars, and to be perfectly frank it is not my first priority in my life.  I am now, as is my husband and my friends and personal and mental health.  Strikingly, this has made me MORE productive rather than less.  I look forward to working on my dissertation (sometimes) because I give myself permission to NOT do it sometimes.  I like discussing the finer points of theory in my field and am passionate about my work because I give myself permission to not think about it when I don't feel like it.  Once I did that, I realized how often it comes to mind unbidden, and realized that I do have a true passion - I just needed to put it in the right perspective.

Also, realize that identity confusion is really common in the mid-20s.  It's not just because you're in grad school; the mid-20s are a prime identity establishing time in the work world these days.  I have lots of friends in that age range and most of us are going through it or have went through it.  I only have one friend who knew exactly what she wanted to do from college through grad school and into her career, and even she had a tough time in grad school.

The point from that is - I'm not saying that you should quit, and I'm not staying that you should stay.  That's a highly personal decision and there's no right or wrong answer.  What I'm saying is that you can probably be happy either way.  You're not trapped; you can figure out what to do if you're not in grad school, as you are a smart and talented individual.  Don't worry about that just yet.  Worry about figuring out whether staying where you are, or doing something else, is the best fit for your personal needs and goals.

Some people choose to go the lower-risk route of taking a leave of absence and getting a job doing something else for a year, just to test the waters.  For some, the break recharges them and they return refreshed and finish up.  I suspect most, however, wanted to leave all along and the full-time job helped them ease out and realize that yes, there really is a world out there besides academia.

 

[i want to write a book about getting through graduate school, and your post amongst others has inspired me to write a chapter on deciding whether to leave in the book.  So many students ask the question, many more probably wonder without outright asking, and I've found that most books about getting through grad school don't address it.  It gives the illusion that everyone slides through easily.  Ha!)