The Race - An Analogy
Imagine you are running a race. A marathon, perhaps. Everyone else is running faster than you are, but you're moving along at your own steady pace. You are the proverbial tortoise: you may not be the front-runner, but you'll get there in the end.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a brick wall looms directly in your path. With no time to brake, you slam directly into it. As you might imagine, it hurts quite a bit. You shake your head to clear it, move around the wall, and keep running.
And then another brick wall appears, inches ahead of you. This time, when you get back up and keep running, you're limping a bit and you can feel places where bruises are already forming.
Another brick wall. And another. Each time you hit one, you're a little more hurt, more cuts, more bruises, and it's taking you longer and longer to pick yourself up and start hobbling down the track again.
Then you reach a clear stretch. And it seems like everything's going to be okay. Sure, you're not feeling great, but you're moving along at a steady pace, and you know you're nearing the finish line. You can almost see it, and the feeling of relief and accomplishment is so strong that you manage to put on an extra burst of speed.
Mere feet from the finish line, another brick wall appears. This wall is thicker, higher, and wider than all the previous ones, and since you were running with all your might, the pain when you crash into it is much greater. You can't see any way around this wall. Or over it. The only way you might be able to reach the finish line is to slam yourself into the wall again and again, in the hopes of weakening the mortar and creating a hole to squeeze through.
You are sitting on the ground in front of this final wall. You are bruised. You are bleeding. You are struggling to breathe. What do you do?
Do you stand up and keep hurling yourself against the wall, hoping to break through and finish the race, since you've already injured yourself so much already?
Or do you start to think that perhaps this was a race you oughtn't have tried to run in the first place?
Edited a few hours later to add: Thank you guys so much for your thoughtful and supportive comments. I really do appreciate it. Happily, I managed to get my advisor to meet with me, and things are looking a bit less critical now than they were yesterday and this morning. So don't worry, I may yet make it out of grad school more or less intact.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a brick wall looms directly in your path. With no time to brake, you slam directly into it. As you might imagine, it hurts quite a bit. You shake your head to clear it, move around the wall, and keep running.
And then another brick wall appears, inches ahead of you. This time, when you get back up and keep running, you're limping a bit and you can feel places where bruises are already forming.
Another brick wall. And another. Each time you hit one, you're a little more hurt, more cuts, more bruises, and it's taking you longer and longer to pick yourself up and start hobbling down the track again.
Then you reach a clear stretch. And it seems like everything's going to be okay. Sure, you're not feeling great, but you're moving along at a steady pace, and you know you're nearing the finish line. You can almost see it, and the feeling of relief and accomplishment is so strong that you manage to put on an extra burst of speed.
Mere feet from the finish line, another brick wall appears. This wall is thicker, higher, and wider than all the previous ones, and since you were running with all your might, the pain when you crash into it is much greater. You can't see any way around this wall. Or over it. The only way you might be able to reach the finish line is to slam yourself into the wall again and again, in the hopes of weakening the mortar and creating a hole to squeeze through.
You are sitting on the ground in front of this final wall. You are bruised. You are bleeding. You are struggling to breathe. What do you do?
Do you stand up and keep hurling yourself against the wall, hoping to break through and finish the race, since you've already injured yourself so much already?
Or do you start to think that perhaps this was a race you oughtn't have tried to run in the first place?
Edited a few hours later to add: Thank you guys so much for your thoughtful and supportive comments. I really do appreciate it. Happily, I managed to get my advisor to meet with me, and things are looking a bit less critical now than they were yesterday and this morning. So don't worry, I may yet make it out of grad school more or less intact.