A reader writes in by email:

How do people know if the burnout is only a phase?

This is about being burned out at the end of the PhD. I’m entering my fifth year, which is technically the last year I can stay in the program, and everything is hinging on me finishing my thesis (which is a manuscript instead of a collection of chapters). I’m feeling less and less passionate about philosophy and what I do specifically for many reasons. The work I’m doing in my thesis is extremely difficult, making me feel like I don’t know anything and I don’t know how to write, progressing at a snail pace. I also feel an immense fatigue and jadedness by the fact that my work is dragging because I have to work so much on the side to earn a living at the same time (I was not lucky enough to ever win a SSHRC grant for instance). Some issues in my dating life also prevent me from focusing 100% on my thesis. I also feel like I’m reading less and less and I’m not as willing to talk about philosophy with others as before. My advisor and my department are absent figures. As a result of that, I tend to disregard the massive achievements I reached in my career so far (e.g.: getting two publications, a few forthcoming too, establishing good connections with other scholars, traveling for work, etc.) and I’m not willing as much anymore to put my career before my personal life – which used to be the opposite ever since I studied philosophy in undergrad. I used to be a machine and now I’m not anymore.

My feeling of being burned out really accentuated itself in June. I’m just wondering if some people have experienced something similar and, if so, what made them able to be confident that it was just a phase in life and not some creeping revelation about a turning point in their life. In other words, would I ever be able to confidently tell when it’s time for me to stop and to look for something else in life? Looking back, philosophy has always been my whole life and I never questioned my ambitions ever before. I don’t know if this is a serious change in me or just a difficult period that will pass.

I’m so sorry the OP is going through this, and I empathize deeply. When I started this blog in 2012, I wrote a few posts about some similar struggles that I went though. I barely made it through, and over the years I’ve also known a lot of other grad students–both in philosophy and in other fields–who had similar struggles. The ABD stage of grad school is simply really tough.

I don’t know of any good way to know whether burnout is just a phase. Truth be told, I’ve had several bouts of burnout over my career (one pretty recently in fact). Each time I’ve sincerely wondered whether it was permanent–and, like the OP, whether I should stop and look for something else in life. I’ve always eventually found my way through–but it was admittedly very hard to see any light at the end of the tunnel at the time. I basically just had to be patient with and kind to myself (at least, as kind as I could manage). And yes, I did look at/seriously consider alternatives to a career in philosophy.

I’m not sure that I have great tips for the OP, but if they are looking to rekindle their love of philosophy, then they might consider trying to work on other things alongside the dissertation. In my experience, dissertations can simply be soul crushing–this massive thing that you have to do–that can sap all enjoyment out of philosophy. Are there any philosophical ideas that the OP has that excite them that they could spend maybe an hour a day writing about besides the dissertation? Obviously, everyone is different, but this approach worked wonders for me when I lost my love of philosophy.

Do other readers have any helpful tips or experiences to share?

Posted in , ,

11 responses to “Grappling with burnout (while ABD)?”

  1. Anonymous

    OP, I’m so, so sorry. I know that feeling, and it’s awful.

    I am now 6 years past tenure, and I have had two serious episodes of feeling absolutely, completely, unable to work – I’m in the middle of the second one right now. I don’t want to read, or think, or write, or talk philosophy with anyone. Honestly, the first period ended when I just found myself one day having ideas that I was excited about, and really, really wanting to figure them out in writing. Then I wrote a book manuscript and two new papers in about a year, and found myself loving the work again. I’m hoping that the current period will end the same way.

    Frankly, I don’t know if these periods have been burnout, or if they’re just a natural part of my writing process that I should come to accept. Right now, I’m experimenting with thinking of them as fallow periods that I should embrace, rather than an indication that something is broken in me.

    That said, I realize that that’s a luxury that I have because I have tenure. I couldn’t have just laid fallow for a year or two when I was ABD or pre-tenure. The way that academia pushes us to constantly do more and more and more is messed up – it’s not good for our mental health, and it’s not even good (I think, anyway) for creating really good philosophy that’s worth doing. So even if what you’re feeling is a natural, healthy thing that you can come out of, it might be worth asking yourself whether you’re willing and/or able to push through for another 6-10 years until you get to tenure and can lean into whatever natural rhythms your work ends up taking.

  2. Anonymous

    I feel like a big part of the issue is OP’s home department. What is going on? I suppose it is not in the US, since it is not providing enough funding *as well as* having a rigid deadline. It is also not supportive in any other way. Being stuck in this situation sounds genuinely tough. I don’t have helpful advice for that.

    To OP’s main question, it does look like a burnout (temporarily) based on your descriptions and my experience. But regardless of the temporal nature of it, I still think it is useful to take breaks, and perhaps look for alternatives. As I said, this is a tough situation to be in, whether or not it is just a phase… Best of the lucks.

  3. Anonymous

    I just want to say that you have two pubs, and a few forthcoming. That’s honestly amazing. That’s sort of the level of pubs I had when I secured my first job.

  4. Anonymous

    My experience is very similar to anonymous above, although I’m only a couple years past tenure. One thing that I don’t think they or Marcus mentioned that I have found helpful is not pushing through the burnout. Give yourself some intentional time off of philosophy, even if it’s just for a few weeks (sometimes graduate advisors are a bit more absent in the summer, so if they are, maybe you can be too!). Remind yourself of what it’s like to feel excited about something, be it reading novels, music, movies, sports, whatever. Continuing to push will (in my experience) only make the burnout worse. If you lean into it, you might find yourself refreshed and missing philosophy after a little while.

  5. Anonymous

    I’m a PhD candidate, also ABD, in a broadly similar situation (basically: burnout mixed with a sense of dissatisfaction with what I’m writing and with my research area). To me, it seems like OP is facing a genuinely tough environment in which many things are stacked against them: lack of funding, lack of academic support (!!), issues in dating life, and so on. In this context, burnout is more than natural, but I do not think it’s caused by academic philosophy. It seems, rather, that OP’s love and excitement for philosophy were the first victims of this less-than-ideal situation. It’s easy for external issues to creep up on our academic life, and to make it seem like either that life itself or certain aspects of it are the problem. So, I believe it’s worth trying to imagine a future where some of the problems that OP lists have subsided. That’s what I did for myself, at least, and it turned out that I could easily imagine being an academic philosopher in better (achievable) conditions. As Marcus mentions, the ABD stage is known to be quite tough, but this does not mean that one’s whole career will feel the same!

  6. Anonymous

    I agree with all the above. One possibility – if you’re not already doing this – is to find other people at the same or similar stage in your program, and find a way of meeting regularly with them to show each other work as you plow through the dissertation. There are many formats this can take – in mine one person would host dinner and another person would present or get comments on their chapter. We were working in different areas but it was mostly a way to make the experience less isolating.

    1. Marcus

      This is a *great* suggestion. I had forgotten it until your comment, but my advisor actually started a dissertation workgroup like this when I was at my lowest point—and it absolutely saved me. It was both supportive and motivating!

  7. Anonymous

    ABD is very difficult, in all the respects OP and others above have mentioned. It sucks. OP (and others in that spot) are not alone. Being ABD (and the terrible job prospects one earns from soul-crushing work) has sparked many a depression episode, too: It might be worth consulting a therapist to see if there is anything from that side that could help.

    My main advice is simply to finish the dissertation ASAP. It sounds like OP is started on the dissertation at least. From zero, two pages per day gets you a dissertation draft in 90 days. You can do a hard thing for three months. And knowing there is a light at the end of a not-too-long tunnel can alleviate some of the crappy feelings.

    I’d start with a vacation from philosophy first, though: Don’t even think about it for two weeks, then get back to it with purpose.

    If OP is not too deep into the dissertation yet, also consult with supervisor/department about switching to a different (easier, more enjoyable) topic. Plan to make the dissertation as short as is reasonable in your department. Don’t plan to overachieve on the dissertation: Almost no one reads them and they are of little professional value except as monuments. (I think this is *especially* true for the very technical ones, but I could be wrong.)

    I found writing at cafes helped me sometimes. The illusion of social engagement was a balm to the long loneliness of scholarly writing.

    Routine matters *a lot*. To finish, I sat myself at my desk as soon as I woke up/ate/showered, and didn’t let myself stop until I had two pages. Sometimes that was an hour; sometimes it was six. Then the rest of the day was free for recreation, exercise, friends, work for money (although I was lucky not to have to do that), and whatever else makes you enjoy your life. I don’t recommend more than two pages per day because it becomes unsustainable. (My “most productive” dissertation day was 18 pages, but then I didn’t write anything for many days afterwards.) In a similar vein, it is okay to save your philosophical energy for reading and writing–it isn’t a bad thing to take a break from philosophical conversations with others. I find from long experience that I can sustain about four hours per day of philosophy; the trick is to figure out your own sustainable amount, whether it is one hour or eight.

    BTW, if you miss a day or two on the 90-day plan, or don’t hit two pages now and then, it is not a big deal. Just get back on the horse without beating yourself up about it.

  8. Anonymous

    Do so with due caution but it is worth experimenting with antidepressants or stimulants if you haven’t.

  9. Anon

    I hope you don’t receive this as bad news, but… I finished my PhD last year, and I, too, am in a similar phase. In a lot of ways, I’m really lucky (publications, connections, non-tt job opportunities), but I had a trying year as a VAP, and since the start of the summer I can’t even get myself to read philosophy (except sometimes half an article). I have an R&R that I might not even R because I can’t get myself to look at my half-revised work. So I also wonder whether I’m finished with philosophy, whether I really *want* to continue working at temporary philosophy gigs until maybe one day getting something permanent.

    Anyway, I find it comforting to read some things folks have said here–that others have been through similar phases and come out the other side. I’ll just add that, for me, it’s been critical to have non-philosopher friends. So important thing to do, as far as you can manage it, is to get/stay connected with people outside of philosophy–people who can help you get into non-philosophy activities, hobbies, etc. Then you might seriously consider pursuing just whatever job opportunities will keep you geographically close to people you care about (as opposed to moving and moving and moving for the next philosophy gig, which is expensive and isolating and exhausting).

  10. anon

    I am very moved by the OP’s post. That is partly because I feel it too. I’m also ABD, also on track, also publishing well. (I thought that if I had good publications, the burnout would vanish–no.) But it is also partly because I think that everyone in this situation, that is, everyone ABD, feels it. There is something about the dissertation. The dissertation is, for some reason, deranging. I cannot explain it, but it seems to be some kind of law. My mother is a therapist, and she has a colleague who specializes with Ph.D. students managing their relationships with their supervisors–an incredibly consequential relationship that, according to this therapist, is usually more important for a person’s emotional development and well-being than whatever one had with one’s parents. This therapist describes herself as someone who works with “dissertation psychosis.” She says that this problem is mundane and absolutely ubiquitous.

    I say this because in my own life, this concept is very helpful. When it comes to every other aspect of academic life, I generally feel highly competent. But if a project makes any kind of contact with the dissertation, it is poisoned. It really helps to say to myself: “ah, there it is, dissertation psychosis.”

    It makes no sense! My committee is caring, kind, devoted, supportive, proud. But it does not really matter. I am tormented, even demented, by the prospect of letting them down. They treat me as a normal person and a colleague; I hang on every word and mannerism, looking for the confirmation of my fears. Maybe it is because every single part of ourselves is on trial during this phase of academic life, and everything is personal; maybe it is because no matter now successful we are now, or how promising, we are supplicants, if we don’t yet have TT jobs. We are waiting to go up in handcuffs before a judge. I say this as someone who has really loved and cherished grad school: it is embarrassing to be a grad student; it is embarrassing to be on trial; it is embarrassing to watch one’s dream dangled in front of a jury. Maybe we will get a job, and tenure, and return to the realm of the living, and pretend this never happened. But for now, we feel that everyone regards us a bit warily, no matter how warm they are: maybe, despite all appearances, we will turn out to be criminals, in which case they can safely pretend they never knew us, because we will be outcast. Locked out. Never to be seen or spoken of again.

    I’m being dramatic. But this time is just very hard, and I don’t think there is much that can mitigate the hardship until it is behind us. I’ve lived through objectively horrible things, so much worse than this, that should put it all in perspective–no. It barely helps. This is hard. Many of us begin graduate school unconcerned with whether we will get a job, excited to take classes, to write, etc. We’ll figure something out. But it is almost impossible (without a trust fund or a viable pathway to a comfortable alt-ac career) to maintain this attitude. Many of us will realize that we need to support our families, and that we really might not be able to do it, that we are getting older, that the decisions we made when we were young have shackled us in some way, that it is actually not easy to “figure something out” if academia doesn’t work, and that the odds are not good, even if we do everything right. I strongly suspect that anyone ABD who does not seem even a little bit tense (and who does not have a trust fund or a viable pathway to a comfortable alt-ac career) is either bluffing or delusional.

    This is just to say–we are all under freakish pressure and is par for the course to feel burnt out. You’re going to feel it, almost certainly, if you are an emotionally aware human being, so at the very least try not to beat yourself up about it. It is natural to have fallow and fertile writing periods. Maybe we can’t afford fallow periods before tenure, but whatever you feel is fine. And everything really will be totally fine if you take a few weeks off.

    But despite the stupid scarcity and pressure, this is a wonderful thing we get to spend our time on, and I am sure that all of us will feel the joy again. You’ll be all right.

Leave a Reply

Discover more from The Philosophers' Cocoon

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading