So, what shall I do? Shall I stop fighting and crying and then fighting again?
I really feel very cornered. My eyes drift away from the screen to the cigarette package on the table. My mind pushes it back. I think about New York, about beaches of South Florida, I think about my lovely husband. I think about my life of 29 years, lived so protected, so unrealistically soft. I think about Europe, its plazas, its museums, its values. Then I think about the States. I judge it. My mind twists and rolls.
I will come out and say it. I regret it. I should have never done a ph.d. Yet I do not say I wish I had done something else. I could not have done anything else at the time. There was not any exciting possibilities, any real challenges except what I chose. There was no other way out of Turkey for me.
I look at the cigarettes again. (I can decrease it to one a day perhaps. )
I feel torn.
1 comment:
But now that it is over and done with, does the weight of the PhD still hangs around your neck?
It is 5 years of memories and a weighty book, but perhaps it shouldn't determine any more what you want to do. Although I doubt that it is the thing tormenting you now.
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