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I quit my PhD. My contract officially ends on Feb 29th.
I was going to write a whole spiel about why I’m quitting and how academia, especially my supervisors, failed me.
But I don’t want to do that anymore.
Instead, I’ve been quietly contemplating the last 3 years of my life.
I moved to Vienna slightly over 3 years ago for this position, which posed a great challenge from the get-go.
Shortly afterwards, I got into a relationship that also proved to be the most challenging relationship I have ever had.
Both the PhD and the relationship caused a tremendous amount of pain.
The pain of sleepwalking through life and flying on autopilot finally became intense enough to wake me the hell up.
I had to start picking apart how the autopilot got programmed.
It turned out that most of the programming was the result of severe childhood trauma, which I unconsciously stuffed down and swept under the rug, hoping that I’d never have to see it again.
Having to look under that rug and clean the shit out has been utterly daunting and harrowing, to the extent that I was certain I could no longer carry on.
How I wished that I never moved to Vienna; that I never took this stupid position; that I never met this stupid Viennese guy.
But on this leap day, as I wrap up this old chapter of my life, I’m full of gratitude, anticipation, and hope.
I’m sorry, Vienna, for blaming you. It wasn’t actually you that treated me so unkindly; you just drew my attention to the ugly and filthy underside of that bloody rug.
Thank you, Vienna, for waking me up and pushing me to start the clean-up. I don’t know what lies ahead, but at least, I’ll be a little bit more awake and aware as I venture into the unknown.

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