Back from the Brink (of a PhD Submission)

Photo by Clemens van Lay on Unsplash

Hello again! After a two-month hiatus, I’m back—and I come bearing big news: I’ve submitted my PhD thesis. Woop woop!

It’s in. It’s done. It’s currently in the hands of my examiners, and I’m floating somewhere between exhilaration, exhaustion, and existential dread (which I’m told is all part of the process). The viva is still to come, but for now, I’m taking a moment to breathe—and to reconnect with you all after a season of deep focus and even deeper fatigue.

Stepping away from my Substack wasn’t something I planned. In fact, if you’d asked me at the start of the year, I would’ve told you I could definitely finish my thesis and keep up my blog and build a business and support my daughter and not collapse into a puddle of caffeine, cortisol, and poor decisions.

I was wrong.

What actually happened is that, about two months before my submission deadline, my body and brain made the decision for me. I found myself staring at screens, forgetting what I was meant to be doing, bursting into tears over small things, and generally feeling like I was wading through treacle. That familiar cocktail of burnout symptoms was brewing fast, and I knew I had to take something off my plate—or risk dropping everything.

So I paused the blog. I closed some tabs. I told myself (over and over again) that this wasn’t a failure of time management—it was a strategic and necessary act of self-preservation.

And honestly? It worked.

Giving myself permission to focus on one thing—just one—was a game-changer.

It allowed me to bring my best energy (on the days I had it), my most lucid thinking (between migraines), and my full attention (ADHD permitting) to the final stage of a project that’s been part of my life for years.

And when I say “full attention,” I don’t mean that I locked myself in a tower with a laptop and a thermos of tea. I mean that I made a conscious decision to let go of things I cared about temporarily—this blog, social media, even replying to messages from lovely friends—because I knew that my brain and body were already doing more than enough.

That decision was deeply uncomfortable at first. As a chronically ill, neurodivergent woman, I’ve spent much of my life fighting the perception that I’m flaky, disorganised, or not trying hard enough. So stepping back from something I love doing (and feel proud of) triggered all the guilt and shame and “you should be able to do it all” inner scripts that I’ve spent years trying to untangle.

But here's the thing I’ve learned, doing it all is a lie.

More than that—it’s a dangerous lie. It’s a fast-track to burnout, especially for those of us whose bodies and brains already have less margin for error. When you’re navigating fatigue, brain fog, pain, sensory overload, or executive dysfunction on a daily basis, multitasking isn’t noble. It’s reckless.

The truth is, there are seasons where focus is survival. Where choosing one priority is not only wise, but essential.

My PhD was one of those seasons. It was a culmination of years of personal and academic labour—of reading, writing, questioning, crying, rethinking, and writing all over again. It mattered. It still matters. And it deserved my full attention.

Now that the thesis is submitted, I’m slowly returning to the other parts of my life that had to go quiet for a while. This space is one of them. Writing here has always been a joy for me—an outlet, a form of connection, a place to explore what it means to live honestly and humanly in a world that often demands we hide or hustle.

So what can you expect going forward?

Well, while I wait for my viva, I’ll be sharing more regular reflections again—on neurodivergence, chronic illness, womanhood, and the strange limbo that is post-submission life. I’ll also be talking about what it means to build something sustainable as a late-diagnosed ADHD/autistic woman with multiple chronic illnesses. (Spoiler: it involves rest. Lots of rest.)

I’ll probably write about pacing, and ambition, and that sneaky grief that shows up when you realise just how much harder things have been for you—and how long you blamed yourself for it.

And of course, I’ll keep weaving humour into the chaos, because if we can’t laugh at the absurdity of it all, what are we even doing?

To those of you who’ve stuck around during this quiet spell—thank you. Whether you’re here as a fellow academic, a curious reader, or someone trying to make peace with your own wonderfully wired brain, I’m so grateful for your presence.

And if you’re in a season of overwhelm right now—if you’re trying to do it all and wondering why it’s not working—I invite you to pause. Gently. Without shame. Pick the one thing that matters most right now, and let the rest rest. It’s not giving up. It’s giving yourself a chance.

It’s good to be back.

If this resonated with you—whether you're in the messy middle of something big, navigating life with a differently wired brain, or just feeling a little burnt out—I’d love to hear from you. Hit reply, leave a comment, or share this post with someone who might need the reminder that it’s okay to press pause.

You can also visit my website at vikkyleaney.com for coaching, courses, and free resources designed specifically for neurodivergent and chronically ill women.