I guess I need to say this somewhere, you know? It’s 2 AM and I’m just staring at my computer screen. The blank document. It’s been blank for weeks, basically. And my dissertation is due in three weeks. THREE WEEKS. It feels kind of impossible to even think about. The thing is, I know EXACTLY how this happened. It wasn’t some sudden thing. It was... a gradual slide, I guess you could call it. Like, at first, I was working. Really working. Long hours at the library, my brain was buzzing with ideas. I felt like I was actually doing something IMPORTANT. My advisor even said I was making GOOD progress. Which felt really, really good to hear, you know? Like, all that work was paying off. Then, about a month ago, maybe five weeks? It started with just a little bit of downtime. I’d finish a section and think, “Okay, a quick break.” And that break would turn into an hour, then two. I have this game I really like, an open-world sort of thing. It’s really immersive. And the next thing I knew, I was just... logging in. Not even really thinking about it. Just sort of, instinctively opening it up after dinner. It’s weird, because I can still remember the feeling. The sort of quiet hum of the computer, the click of the mouse. The way the light from the screen made the room feel cozy, even though it was the middle of the day sometimes. I’d tell myself, “Just an hour. Just to clear my head.” But then an hour would turn into three. And then I’d look at the clock and realize it was almost midnight, and I hadn’t looked at my research notes all day. My stomach would drop, that kind of sick feeling you get when you’ve done something you know is BAD. I tried to stop, obviously. Or, I thought I tried. I’d tell myself, "NO GAMES TOMORROW." And the next day I’d sit down, open my dissertation file, stare at it. And then I’d just... sort of drift. Like my brain wouldn’t engage. It would feel like trying to lift something REALLY heavy, and you just can’t do it. So then I’d open the game. Just for a bit. To, you know, "reset." And that bit would stretch into hours again. My roommates, I guess they don’t notice. Or maybe they do and they’re just too polite to say anything. They’re usually out during the day anyway, or in their own rooms. When they ask how the dissertation is going, I just smile and say, “Good! Almost there.” And it sounds so NORMAL. Like I’m actually on track. The lie feels... heavy. Like a weight I’m carrying around. It’s weird how easy it is to just say the words, even when they’re so clearly not true. Now it’s three weeks. And I have maybe a third of it done. And the other two-thirds? They’re just... in my head. Unwritten. And I feel this dread, like a cold stone in my stomach that just won’t go away. I even started having dreams about it, about turning in a blank paper and everyone looking at me. It’s MORTIFYING. I’ve always been good at school, always on top of things. My parents brag about me to the neighbors, you know, "Our daughter, the Ph.D. candidate." I don’t know what I’m going to do. The thought of telling my advisor... it makes me physically ill. He’s such a nice guy, and he’s put so much time into helping me. And my parents. They’ve sacrificed a lot for me to be here. I can just picture their faces. Disappointment. That’s probably the worst part, that feeling of letting everyone down. So yeah. Here I am. Typing this out into the void, I guess. It’s not going to write my dissertation for me. But maybe... maybe saying it out loud, or typing it, makes it a little less trapped inside my head. Even if it just means I’m going to go to bed feeling slightly less like I’m going to explode.