After the PhD: The loneliness nobody talks about

You are sitting in a room full of freshers, waiting for the journey of bringing about the ultimate change in the real world to begin. The much-awaited orientation begins with, 'A PhD is a lonely journey,' and your go-to coffee order changes from 'caramel latte with no sugar' to 'black coffee without sugar, please!' The dream of being a 'change-maker' takes a back seat while you keep a closer eye on the steering wheel to map out the road ahead. In a country full of people from different cultures, values, and beliefs, I refused to call it 'loneliness', which naturally comes with a great deal of emptiness. I was on a journey to rediscover myself, sharpen my existing competencies, add new skill sets to my repertoire, and explore my capacity by constantly pushing its limits.

For someone who is extremely comfortable with her own company, despite facing new challenges every other day, my solitude continued to accompany me. I would be lying if I claimed not to have been shaken by anything during this journey, particularly during meetings with my supervisor and while validating my data, findings, or methodology.

From the orientation room to the PhD defence room, you fumble and stumble more times than you had expected. By the time you sit down with your slides to prepare for and defend your proposal, you find yourself in the driving seat, navigating towards your destination without even a map to guide you. Great things always happen in a quiet room, when no one is watching or noticing, not even you. Your goals expand as you walk out of the defence room with your chin held high, a wide smile on your supervisor's face, and sustained applause echoing behind you.

You speed up now, with greater confidence and self-trust. You experiment with new tools, software, skills, and just the right number of coffee orders without going broke. Sleepless nights become part of your lifestyle, and 'just one more article' on your niche topic captures your attention more than the endless reels on social media.

Regardless of the number of years you invest in your PhD, your surroundings become more curated and exclusive. You walk, talk, and breathe your research, and everything else feels foreign during this period. New ideas, technologies, and research capture your attention, and you seem to outgrow too many things along the way. Applause and rejection walk hand in hand, keeping you grounded and connected to your surroundings. From PhD student to PhD researcher, to PhD candidate, and finally to 'Dr', you experience and enjoy every stage and transition of the journey, with nameless sacrifices on the other side of the degree and the title.

Reality hits hard when you finally defend your viva voce successfully and hear the loud 'Congratulations, Dr.' Nobody warns you what happens next, nor are you prepared for the dead-end silence that follows the momentary applause. The continuous juggling between academia and industry, and between further migration and patriotism, paralyses your thought process for a prolonged period. You discover your trembling grip on the steering wheel yet again. Suddenly, you struggle to find yourself. Unknown fears crawl through your nerves as questions such as 'What next?' and 'Who am I now?' begin to surface.

You return 'home' only to realise that it has become a collection of fragmented, blurred memories of the long-lost place you once knew. The tea tastes different, conversations drain you faster, and the groceries, alleys, and faces all look different from the versions you had preserved in your memory over all those years. When you are excited to share your journey, people find you to be over-projecting your accomplishments; when you are eager to contribute, people find you 'needy' for the spotlight; when you offer your two cents on global warming, people find you opinionated. You are questioned and stared at for exactly the same things for which you were once appreciated and to which you had devoted the last six years of your life.

The external noise and internal chaos overwhelm you to the point where you begin to practise silence rather than continue growing, adding, and contributing. The endless list of things to achieve post-PhD once again takes a back seat. Slowing down, learning, unlearning, and observing keenly become the keys to regaining control of your slipping steering wheel once again.

Farhana Zamil Tinny is Assistant Professor in the Department of Media Studies and Journalism at ULAB.

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