I don't even know where to begin, honestly. It's 2 AM and I'm just staring at my screen, not *this* screen, but the other one, the one with the dissertation document open and it's practically BLANK. Three weeks. Three weeks until it's due. And I've done almost nothing. Like, I’ve been researching for YEARS, accumulating all this knowledge, all these notes, I practically breathe this stuff. And then the last month… it’s just gone. Poof. Vanished. I spent it playing video games. Is that weird? Does everyone have a secret escape like that? My friends, my colleagues, they’re all so driven, so focused, always talking about their next grant or their next publication. I just nod and smile and pretend I’m right there with them, but inside I’m remembering some epic raid or figuring out how to beat a boss level. I'm 58 years old. Fifty-eight. I should be putting the finishing touches on my legacy, not desperately trying to glue together a few coherent sentences for something I've poured decades of my life into. This Ph.D., it was supposed to be the culmination, the proof. Something tangible to leave behind, something that says "I was here, I contributed." Instead, I feel like I'm throwing it all away, just watching the clock tick down while I lose myself in digital worlds. The shame is a physical ache, right in my gut. I keep thinking about all the money, all the time, the sacrifices… my partner has been so patient, so understanding, always asking if I need anything, offering to help with dinner, and I just tell them I’m "in the zone" when really I'm just leveling up some fictional character. The city outside is quiet right now, but I know in a few hours it’ll be roaring again, everyone rushing to their jobs, their meetings, building their lives. And I’m here, a supposed academic, a grown woman, feeling like a complete fraud. I keep telling myself I'll start tomorrow, that tomorrow I'll just sit down and power through it, but then tomorrow comes and the pull of the game is just… stronger. It’s like a warm blanket, a place where I don't have to think about deadlines or expectations or whether I'm going to disappoint everyone who ever believed in me. I just want to understand why I did this. Why I keep doing it. What kind of person just throws away everything they’ve worked for to stare at a screen? Am I just… giving up? Is this what getting old feels like? Just a slow, pathetic slide into irrelevance?