I am always behind

During the final stages of my PhD, I felt totally overwhelmed. I had been struggling to finish a research project I initiated several years prior. The results from my computer simulations were puzzling me, and my article on them was rejected by my journal of choice. Yet, I needed both my writing and sound scientific results to compile my thesis. Without it, I couldn’t graduate and pursue what I coveted: a career in academia. A PhD degree alone would not guarantee such a career, however. Before I could join a research institute as a postdoctoral researcher, I’d have to obtain a research grant—my personal research funding.

I was on a tight schedule. On the one hand, I couldn’t submit a grant application until I obtained formal approval of my PhD thesis. On the other hand, I couldn’t wait too long. I had already moved to the city of the university I wanted to join, which was in a different country. As a consequence, strict deadlines applied to my eligibility for funding. But there were several other complicating factors. I was told that I wouldn’t stand a chance of obtaining a competitive grant without a solid academic CV with strong publications. Although I had plenty of ideas for papers, I hadn’t published many yet. So, next to working on my PhD thesis and a grant application, I planned to conduct research for and write several new articles. I was also running computer simulations using a newly developed code to make a compelling case for my research proposal.

Normally, I am a good sleeper. I fall asleep quickly and hardly ever wake up during the night. Back then, I often woke up, mulling over everything I had to do and in what order. During the day, I made some headway with my tasks, but not nearly as much as I thought I needed to. At night, I again agonized over achieving my goals. No matter how hard I worked, I seemed to inch forward and always felt like I was behind schedule. My decision to stop pursuing the research grant was a great relief. Yet, I still had a PhD thesis to write and desired to publish several research papers. The funding deadline no longer loomed over me, but, in my mind, I kept being behind.

Several years later, I had given up on my dream of working in academia. In fact, I had recently quit my first job as a software developer and was considering alternatives. I didn’t feel ready to take up a new job, though. I was just getting the ropes of a new programming language and aimed to expand my knowledge of it. But I also wanted to sharpen my programming skills in general. I followed—and finished—a handful of online coding courses. However, that achievement didn’t satisfy me. I believed I needed to apply what I had learned and aimed to create a portfolio of real-life projects.

I had once started developing a program to solve the puzzle game Boggle, which I set out to turn into a web version. I also began building a software library to follow up on my PhD research. Combining several interests, I published a tool to determine all the ways to finish a game of darts. I then modernized my website, showcasing some of my projects. As my knowledge grew, so did the list of programming languages I wanted to excel at and the number of projects I intended to create. All the time, I was convinced I hadn’t yet accomplished what I should have. Again, I was always behind.

Earlier this year, I went through a similar experience. Up to that point, generative artificial intelligence had only marginally impacted my work as a software engineer. Then, a colleague eagerly began experimenting with AI to generate new source code. Before long, they were producing so much material that I spent all my time on code reviews. Still, I could not keep up with my colleague. I felt like lagging in other ways, though. My experience didn’t suffice to understand all the generated code. Additionally, I didn’t see how I could quickly catch up with the latest trends in building software using AI.

As you might expect, the experience of being behind extends to my personal life. For example, I have dozens of ideas for new blogs. In practice, I don’t finalize more than two per month, though. Similarly, I want to stay in touch with my friends and loved ones. But how often do I call them or send them a message? The number of unanswered messages on my phone provides a sobering answer. Beyond these examples, I have a long list of recurring and occasional to-dos.

Whatever I do isn’t a task well done. Instead, it is only one less liability to worry about—until the next to-do pops up. In other words, it doesn’t matter what I do or how hard I work. With my sky-high standards and expectations, I will always be behind. And that’s a crucial point. I am demanding the impossible of myself. It is time to start questioning my uncompromising attitude toward myself. Hopefully, I won’t see that step as another assignment I can be behind on.