Panic and Stress

"'I like the cover,' he said. 'DON'T PANIC.' It's the first helpful or intelligible thing anybody's said to me all day.'"
From The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams

It's setting in. The panic. All assignments have it, of course, but there's something about the word "dissertation" that makes everyone's lungs seize and hyperventilation set in.

We don't want to talk about it, but it's the first question we ask. We lie to acquaintances - "It's going fine" - we tell them - "I'm almost done" - we say. To our friends we admit that we aren't sure if we're going to make the deadline, we are just hoping we pass. We assure ourselves that we'll finish it in time and that we'll get a Merit (or, cross the fingers, a Distinction).

Some people are done, some have even turned theirs in. To their faces we congratulate them, tell them to go celebrate their accomplishment. Behind their back with call them a range of unkind names and doubt the quality of their work. It's not personal, it's the stress and panic talking. With two of them their isn't space on our shoulders for the angel, just two devils.

With bloodshot eyes and dropping lids we drag ourselves to the library earlier than we have at any previous point and stay as late as we can handle. Lunch breaks are longer, and we take a coffee and dinner break; it's the only way that any illusion of sanity can be maintained.

We set goals, don't achieve them, then set new ones. The word count looms as an ever present reminder that they want you to say everything without saying too much. It's never going to be good enough but it still has to be good enough. We ask ourselves what we can skimp on, wonder what sections we should spend the most time on, debate if we've explained well or been too verbose.

Heaven help us if we don't cite something correctly.

Yet amidst the stress a camaraderie forms, we bond like war buddies. We've been there for each other during our worst times, given words of encouragement when doubt shows its ugly head, listened when one needs to talk it out (even if we haven't a clue about their topic), and given advice when they need help.

As we rush towards the finish line we gulp air in an attempt to get some oxygen to our brains, the ribbon is within sight and we all know that we can do it and - once there - collapse in utter exhaustion.