Wednesday 22-01-2025 - 14:39

Amanda Anderson, DTA Future Societies Researcher, Anglia Ruskin University 

 

In this blog post, Amanda Anderson, our DTA Future Societies alumna, is sharing her experience and challenges of the post-PhD thesis submission phase. Since a PhD is a lengthy process and becomes part of a researcher’s life, once completed, it leaves a void. Amanda shares her views in an effort to encourage researchers going through a similar experience to maintain optimism and embrace this brief "void" as a part of the post-submission process.

 

The Promised Land of PhD-thesis submission

To get to the point in the first line of this article: the truth is the Promised Land of happiness and bounty, pride and wisdom, does not unfold the moment one hands in their PhD thesis.  That was what I was expecting of that Promised Land, the journey towards which I meticulously worked tirelessly and hard towards these past few years, from milestone to milestone, hurdle after hurdle: to get my PhD thesis over the line.  I handed in my PhD thesis a couple of months ago now, which was effectively a few days before the absolute deadline: I was so keen to reach that Promised Land!  However, there is no clearer way to describe what I felt, other than that I was a little disappointed.  After the initial celebratory beer and meal out with family and friends on that Friday evening a couple of hours from said submission, I found there was no Promised Land, or not the one I was imagining.  There was a vacuum instead, a stretch that can only be described as a sort of nothingness: as far away from what I had imagined and dreamed about the previous years.  Nothing and no one had prepared me for this void, and with this blog I want to share what it was like for me, which may not be relevant to everyone else’s experience, but it may make others feel relatively normal and, as a result, better.  I do not want to burst the metaphorical bubble; indeed, post-submission is a part of the PhD journey that is not often spoken about.  In fact, after sharing my feelings with other post-submission PhD-ers and academic friends, I found out my feelings were common; however, because of the nature of the PhD journey itself (shall we say, it is slightly isolating), it took me by surprise.  If only I knew that yes, things do get better, and quality of life does improve significantly after submitting, and what I experienced was kind of normal. 

The truth was that the next day after submission was the papal anti-climax for me.  There was indeed nothing that I expected from the Promised Land, and the worst was I had no ‘PhD thesis’ to blame for all that I was feeling.  I became used to blaming all the ills on my PhD thesis: ‘If only I could get it over the line, nothing else matters’.  I felt surprisingly lighter, but that was not because of lost weight (I am sure I consumed more chocolate in the weeks leading up to submission).  Now that I handed in my 80k-word dissertation, most of which was a labour of love, there was very little reason to celebrate arrival at this Promised Land.  I realised that the PhD submission meant nothing to the rest of the world around me which continued as normal the next day.  There were no church bells ringing, applause, or fireworks.  They say that a PhD thesis is like a marathon (of sorts).  I have never attempted a full marathon, but I have run a half marathon and have a few 10ks under my belt.  If you have been to running events (including parkrun), you know that at the finish line, there are always people clapping and welcoming you as you cross the line.  There was none of that when I got the PhD thesis over the line, although I somehow expected it metaphorically speaking.  This was a different sort of marathon.

The day after I submitted was a Saturday, and there were still chores to do: cleaning, shopping, taking care of children, decisions on what to cook, etc.  I had to do the rest of life that the weeks prior to submission were somehow done while I still lived in some parallel world in my head with my companion, nemesis, and friend at the same time; that was my PhD thesis.  Prior to submission, those day-to-day chores were done mindlessly as I lived mostly in my head with my darling PhD, who I visualised like a close sister, who I blamed for all the ills of my life, and with whom I dreamed, discussed, and ventured on intellectual winding paths of highs and lows.  Those chores were accompanied with a parallel discussion going on in my head about my PhD and with it.  But she was gone, the day after submission, leaving me on my own to talk to no-one and celebrate with no-one that could really understand what it meant.  It was a sort of grieving period.

This PhD was my dream and creation, living and flourishing in my head for the past three years, and now that it was gone, I was strangely missing it.  Although I was not proud of it.  In fact, I couldn’t bear to even look at it, this near 300-page document.  All I could see were mistakes and errors when I dared open it.  Other people in my world, whom I love,  told me I should be proud.  But I was not, because I had high hopes for my thesis, and of course I wanted it to be perfect.  I felt let down, plain and simple, by the system, by my own PhD and its’ promises.  And I was sad that my purpose for the past few years just left a gaping stretch of nothingness, and I had nothing to show for it.  Because one does not graduate on submission of the thesis.  Oh, no, there is still the Big Scary Viva to go through when you are expected to defend this creation. 

My promised land consisted of plans that included a great, wonderful holiday, starting with a momentous celebration and although I did not think it through, I probably expected some fireworks too.  The reality was that life went on as normal.  It is a bit like with grief, I was told, the realisation that life goes on after one’s loved one passes.  My PhD thesis was my aim and purpose these past years has left me with nothing apart from a trail of emotion, tears, and some sort of anger that I was now left on my own to get on with life.  What about the promises and the carrot (the reward and positive motivation of completion) along the way?  My previous pre-PhD life was strangely put on hold, as I carried on the day-to-day mindlessly whilst I was so focused on my creation, my PhD, to get it over the line and set it free.      

I clearly remember that as soon as I submitted, a weight had lifted from somewhere on my shoulders, as if I was freed from the heavy backpack I had been carrying for however long.  I wanted to celebrate in some way or pack for a post-submission holiday (that is actually ‘a thing’) but I had no funds, as life post-submission brings one down to earth; that is, the reality of the provision of ‘the daily bread’ and sustenance that I needed for myself and family to survive.  I also had no energy, so I felt like I was left coldly at the start of what should have been the Promised Land with nothing and with everything to figure out.  Do I continue the life I had put on hold, or do I go along with trust in the process and walk on through this stretch until the Viva, and then, what?  Anxiety kicked in. 

More weight continued to shift as I got a viva date and later the viva itself, as the unknown turned into real dates to work towards.  I am grateful for the advice of friends who insisted that I take time off to properly recover, before I started the Viva preparation.  This is easier said than done, and many times I had to very intentionally do mindful and restful activities that I enjoyed.  In the run-up to the thesis submission, the stress of the final stretch is real, as in a marathon we throw all we have to make it to the finish line. Post-submission felt truly like a liminal phase; the time when nothing much really happened and when everything slowed down, when rest and recovery were the order of the day.  With hindsight, I realise how important it was to rest properly after the huge milestone reached.  The journey is not over, and this liminal phase is time for appreciation and reflection.  The Promised Land is one that breeds creativity and eventually creates more energy (or umph).  Just like the soil in winter, a lot is happening underneath the surface, and bulbs are growing, yet it is only during spring that we can appreciate what was really going on when we thought nothing was happening. 

Clearly this stretch of Promised Land was not what I expected.  Now that the viva is behind me, I can appreciate the meaning of that part of the journey when I thought I reached the Promised Land.  Perhaps during the tough years of the PhD journey, our brains need to create the shiniest of lands to lure us forward and to keep us going.  It is clear the fanfare that I expected was not waiting for me the minute I submitted.  That Promised Land is a stretch that may be seen as barren but is also time for rest and recovery in preparation for the next step (the Viva).  Being aware of this stretch should be helpful because this is the time when one needs to be patient and trust the process, rather than expect something majorly festive to occur.  Perhaps knowing about this stretch is helpful awareness of emotions that may surface.  That awareness should help the next person that is about to get their big PhD project over the line expecting to feel on top of the world (and I do hope they will).  In my experience, the PhD journey is traditionally focused on the delivery of ‘The Thesis’, and perhaps that is why I was not expecting this stretch. 

There is nothing wrong with creating and having a Promised Land, because it has the very effective purpose of keeping us going; its creation is not trickery.  Although the reality I found was slightly less shiny than what I expected, I realise now that this was also part of my PhD journey.  It is now that the viva came and went; I can look back and appreciate the meaning of each part of the journey, including the role of having your Promised Land.  Hoping I have not burst your bubble but rather welcomed you to the club and cheered you on.  Wishing you lots of luck with managing those expectations and treating yourself with kindness during the whole of the PhD journey, as submitting is not the start of the expected Promised Land but rather a very important big milestone.  Post-submission is not as scripted as the journey to submission; dream on.  Keep going just like me; you will get there before you know it!