10 years ago

I was reminded today on Facebook, that 10 years ago I was preparing to leave South Africa to start my PhD journey. I packed up my flat (well almost) and sold practically everything and got on a plane ready for my new life, my new journey. Now 10 years later I can hardly remember the person I was in this picture - slightly tipsy, salsa queen, teacher, under 40 and open to learn and explore. Much of this blog bears witness to how those initial dream-like expectations and openness became fragmented and morphed into weariness and cynicism as my identity changed.
Strangely today I had a unrelated chat to a colleague who was conveying his observations of our mutual colleague who is currently doing his PhD. My colleague recounted how he felt his friend was descending into a sort-of deep hole of anger and despair, like all the joy was being drained from him. He no longer smiles. I nodded along and said, yes I recognise that. This PhD thing changes you forever. You can never come back. I'm not sure if I miss that person in the photo that I was. You can't miss something you struggle to remember.