What a truly horribly gut-wrenching, agonizing and (almost) soul-crushing exercise this is!!
It begins with the GREs - one of the biggest rip-offs perpetuated on us already impoverished 20-something folks. Not only is there a hefty fee for taking the test, but there is an additional charge for sending your scores to more than four schools. All of which would be acceptable, were it not completely meaningless and pointless. It is not really a test of your abilities, but more a have-you-learned-the-tricks-to-beat-this-thing sort of an endeavor. I'm not even sure what the schools actually learn about their prospective students from these test scores. Hopefully, the powers that be in graduate schools will do away with this colossal waste of time, energy and money the way some undergraduate colleges are beginning to not require the SATs.
This is then followed by the selection of the colleges you want to apply to. (Ideally, one looks into this prior to taking the GREs, but I'm not that one.) If, like me, you're interested in Clinical Neuropsychology, you will soon find out that there is no such thing as a perfect program. This is just one of those quirky laws of the universe. Consider the following: a program doing research in your area of interest, a good location, good financial aid packages and a good reputation. I know you are thinking at this point that this is only four variables. Surely, it wouldn't be so difficult. It is. I could put the following statement in stone: No program will do better than 3 out of 4. Each program WILL involve some sacrifice on your part. For instance, you could be in a great location in a not-so-great program. Or the program will be everything you want, but in the back of beyond the middle of nowhere.
Once you have selected the best of the "3 out of 4" programs, you begin the applications, namely the much dreaded personal statement where you try convey to a group of strangers that you are brilliant, kind and decent, or in short, a worthy nominee for a Nobel peace prize. After much head scratching and hair pulling, I finished mine, but to be honest, I still am clueless as to what the admissions committee is looking for.
Upon completion of the glowing testimonial to yourself, the waiting game begins. This is when you wait for interview calls. Six or more weeks of "Was I good enough or did they find me lacking in some essentials?" Nothing quite like this time to bring you down a peg or two.
Finally, the calls for the interviews come in and you begin to feel validated. You make your travel arrangements (thereby burning another hole in your wallet) and arrive at the school bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to convince your interviewers that you are the best thing that would ever happen to this school. EVER. However, lest your confidence levels are high and you are reasonably assured of your own competence, you learn that this is an extremely competitive program and that 75% of the people present will not make the cut. Shaken though you might be, you nevertheless, put on your best interview face and try to emerge unscathed at the end. Sometimes, you are lucky enough to have an interviewer with whom you can really connect, but occasionally, you come across one that appears to be like a benign Mother Theresa but is actually a pit bull or a rottweiler on the inside and relishes the process of shredding you to bits.
Having survived the interviews (some barely by the skin of your teeth), you have to wait some more. During this time, you imagine all the permutations and combinations of schools you get into or are rejected from and then have to decide which of the schools you get into would best make you happy. Since all of these schools have "3 out of 4" programs anyway, a daunting task lies ahead.
This is the stage I am at right now. When people ask me how I'm doing, I tell them I'm fine. (What they don't know is that I mean the "fine" as described in The Italian Job - Freaked out, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional.) I haven't received any offers from any of the schools, but somehow I have convinced myself that if I do, no matter which school I pick, it is going to be the wrong choice. I can practically feel the ulcer in my stomach.
More on this when I hear back from my programs. Sigh.
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