Can One Have Thesis-Induced Illness?

I am revising, revising, revising. I am revising to the point where I no longer know what my point is. I no longer can trust myself to write a sentence, or to place a comma. I am paralyzed by my repeated attempts and subsequent failures to get this right, to say what I want to say. My thesis is slowly and sadly morphing into something which has much less me. I am struggling to continue to find my voice in my writing, at least in this particular piece of writing, and am finding less and less of me there.

Today is the first day in a very long time that I have wept with the frustration of this choice that I made. I would give 10 years off my life to be able to go back and unmake these decisions I have made in the past few years. I would fix so much, and do things so differently, and I would know very little about Women's Studies and even less about warfare and Cindy Sheehan.

I was really proud of what I was putting together, and saying, and now I'm just ready to be done with it. If I could throw in the towel right now, and find a job and start paying on my school loans, I would do it. In a heartbeat. I would have my life back, I would have a break, and oh god how I need a break. I'm exhausted, and I no longer have the time to do laundry, or go to the grocery store, or walk the dog. There is a giant clock ticking in my head, and it's a countdown to defense, and really, I have stopped caring at this point.