Beating Impostor Syndrome

As I enter my last 9 months as a graduate student, the TO-DO list seems endless. Finish up my research. Write Manuscripts. Write Dissertation. Find a job. I think I've listed it on here once or twice. Or more. And those are the BIG things on the TO-DO list. After each of those large tasks are many smaller, direct tasks. Format CV. Update CV. Convert CV to Resume. Apply to Jobs. Beat Impostor Syndrome.

Wait... that last one didn't seem right. Did it? Do you even know what it is? Did you think I made it up? Well, I actually didn't. Surprisingly enough. And if you are woman in academia or a STEM field, you probably already know this "syndrome" all too well. Quite simply, it's a case of feeling like you don't belong. But it's not really that simple. Everyone feels like they don't belong at some point in their lives. But this is really feeling like you don't belong. Beating yourself up over it. Self-deprecating behavior.

I can't really put quite how impostor syndrome feels into words. But as I try to tackle that last major task I listed (getting a job), I can tell you that it is hitting me HARD. I feel qualified to do absolutely nothing. As I read through the skills desired, a fear sets in. "Experience in X-ray scattering". Well, yeah that's part of my dissertation. I have experience in X-ray scattering. and then the doubt sets in. "But do I know enough about X-ray scattering? I mean my data is crap? I don't really KNOW anything about X-ray scattering." This is the process I go through every single time I look at desired skill sets. I've been trained in techniques. I've been doing them for years. And yet, it's so ingrained in me that I do not belong in science. That I'm not good enough. Not smart enough. And certainly not qualified enough for these opportunities.

Right now, I have no first author papers, which only seems to amplify the fact that I don't belong in this world. And it's hard applying for post-docs because most of them say "strong publication record." I mean it's like trying to get into law school without taking the LSAT. Sadly, everything you've done in grad school comes down to what, where, and how many times you have published. And right now, I'm on one paper, as a third author, in a really good journal. But there's the third author thing. So can you understand why I feel like an impostor?

The first step to convincing anyone to hire me is to convince myself that I'm worth hiring. I'll be practicing this technique in the upcoming week. Wish me luck!

parlez-vous francais?

So yesterday, I had a super stressful day- mostly induced by me. So, grab your favorite drink and get cozy for story time.

Once upon a time, there was the idea of a conference just north of Paris in July of 2014. (How far north, you ask? 20 km north- because we're in France and they embrace the metric system. For you Americans out there, I'm going to go with 12.4 miles.) Surely if the conference is July of 2014, the abstract deadline must be long gone, no? Well, we checked. It's not. The deadline is mid-April.

So like a child who asks their parents for a puppy knowing that the parents will say no, but just to ask, I asked my boss about funding for this conference. I was fully expecting a "haha. you're silly." But since I'm having story time about this, you know it can't end there. Alas, the e-mail said, "I will fund you X amount. Look for other funding to cover the remaining costs and bon voyage!" (and yes he did actually write bon voyage. I wasn't adding that for effect, or because we are discussing France). Also, I should mention that X is not, like, pennies. It is a significant chunk--over half of the funding required.

I think I stared at the e-mail for like 20 minutes before I was able to form full thoughts and speak sentences. So I called my mom and I mention July and... BOOM. Stress-bomb goes off. I should have remembered before I looked at the conference, but someone I know and love is doing this wedding thing in the middle of July. At the same time as the conference. That my boss just told me he would pay for over half of. And that someone is my cousin.

I think I talked to no less than 20 people about this conundrum. I was at a loss as to what to do. I knew that if the roles were reversed I would have said "You take lots of pics in France, I'll get lots of pics of my wedding. When we're both back, we'll get together and have a girls' night and swap." But I'm not so certain that I have the most awesome handle on this thing (because I would also tell that to anyone attending my wedding. Except the groom. He can't go to France). I also have a huge guilt complex that is very much ingrained in my being. So I decided to talk it over with her in a very logical manner.

1. I have the opportunity to go to France.
2. I have half the funding covered.
3. It's during your wedding.
4. I want you to weigh in before I seek out additional funding.
5. (Please don't hate me)

I may have started crying- did I mention the guilt complex? But my wonderful cousin, without pause, decided that I MUST go to France. Even if it conflicted with her wedding. Even if I were paying for it by myself. Because, HELLO, it's France. And you only get so many opportunities to go to France in your life.

So, I, the worst cousin ever, will be going to France (to sit and listen to talks for 12 hours a day and give a talk) instead of going to my cousin's wedding. You heard it here before I mentioned it on any social networking sites. I guess I should start to brush up on my learn French?

Two Years.

Yesterday was Sel's and my anniversary. We've officially been together for two years. And in the process of this journey, I realized how few pictures the two of us actually take together. I think I have one picture from when he left for New Mexico for his 6 month stint there. A handful of pictures from when I visited him in New Mexico and we went hiking on the mountain trails. One picture from a football game when he got back from New Mexico. One at a dog show. One from last weekend when I was planning this post and adding pictures of the two of us. It's been two whole years, and I only have a few photos documenting the relationship. Perhaps I should get on that. But here's the two most recent photos of us.

At the dog show with the half-champion show dog

Forcing Sel to take a selfie with me randomly.

I wish I could say we did something special. We went to one of our favorite restaurants for lunch and shared a brownie skillet for dessert. Okay, I ate the brownie, Sel ate the ice cream. And then I hopped on the road for a few hours to get to Akron, OH. Home of the Zips... and the polymer engineering building where I will be living spending time for the next two weeks. Yes, you read that right. Two whole weeks-- without Sel and my burritos. Last night, I didn't have to fight for bed real estate. And frankly, it was a bit lonely. Luckily this isn't my first rodeo with UAkron, so I've established a friend group here. So there's that.

Will I survive? Stay tuned to find out...

Back to Your Normally Scheduled Programming

I've got a horrible case of the Mondays. Today has been rough. I had a totally shiny and productive week at boot camp followed a wonderful weekend with family and my other family (Clo's family). And now it's Monday, and I was back at my normal desk, trying to get work done.

The bad thing about boot camp was the fact that it showed me that I can actually be productive, and, as such, I've set the bar higher than normal. Pre-boot camp me was happy if I could get a good model of my data in one day-- "a" being one. Today, I got plausible models of three data sets. And made a handful (40) of samples for my next trip to run instrumentation. This would have been logged under the spectacular day category two weeks ago. Post-boot camp me is not pleased. Today it just feels "meh".

Don't drink the Kool Aid. No really, don't drink it. It's not Kool Aid.

So what's the solution (haha. see I'm punny)? Keep setting the bar this high (i.e. new criteria for spectacular day classification?) or lower my expectations? And please don't remind me that December is 9 months away. I realize in 9 months, I need to have finished all my research, written my dissertation, defended, and at least have multiple papers submitted-- draft form at the absolute least. Oh yeah, and have a job/post-doc lined up. It looks a lot scarier on paper a computer screen than in my head (it's pretty scary in my head too).

So now that I have sufficiently transcribed my displeasure and freaked my self out, I will leave you with this picture that is completely unrelated but science-y. Check out all those crystals. I made those. These were made on a day that was likely not even classified as mediocre, but they're still pretty. So if beautiful things come out of not-quite-mediocre days, then maybe today WAS actually spectacular. Perhaps I should give myself more credit.

Happy St. Patrick's Day! 

An Irishman's Philosophy:

In life, there are only two things to worry about—

Either you are well or you are sick.

If you are well, there is nothing to worry about,

But if you are sick, there are only two things to worry about—

Either you will get well or you will die.

If you get well, there is nothing to worry about,

But if you die, there are only two things to worry about—

Either you will go to heaven or hell.

If you go to heaven, there is nothing to worry about.

And if you go to hell, you’ll be so busy shaking hands with all your friends

You won’t have time to worry!

A Shower for CloBaby

This weekend I was in the home state to celebrate my soon-to-be niece (aka my best friend's baby) and her wonderful parents. It was great to stay get to stay at Momma's house and spend some time with her as well. 

To kick off the weekend, Momma and I went shopping. It was glorious. I picked up two pairs of jeans, a pair of linen pants, a pair of dress pants, two dresses, and a bunch of tops. Plus I got a few pairs of shoes-- two are wedge-pumps and an awesome pair of heels. This is huge because I've had two reconstructive ankle surgeries, so it's really difficult to find heels that I can walk in, provide enough support, and don't cause immense pain/swelling in my ankle. But these are amazing. 

Next up, manis and pedis. A new nail salon opened up down the street from my mom and all services are 20% off for the month. I got my first ever gel manicure. And I LOVE the color.

Today was the shower for Clo, Seb, and their baby (my niece). This little girl is going to be so spoiled and lucky. In a little less than two months, I will get to hold my sweet little girl and love on her in person- then I can love on her for the rest of my life. Here's quite possibly one of my favorite pictures of Clo and I. Isn't she just glowing? And I look deceptively stunning. Seb definitely found my good side.

Clo has this stuffed Minnie Mouse that she has had since, like, forever. So naturally, when we found out the baby was a girl, it was necessary for her baby shower to be Minnie themed.

Mama PK made the ballon Minnie Mouse in the left corner above. Clo's cousin, sister, and sister-in-law worked hard and put together a fabulous shower. The details were amazing and perfect.

These cupcakes looked amazing and tasted even better.

And in case you didn't get a good look at them on the cupcake stand, here they are up close. Totes Adorbs. Clo's SIL made sugar scrub and decorated loofas. I'm too lazy to get up now and take a picture, but they are so cute and equipped with labels "From our shower to yours." I can't wait to try out the scrub.

Now I'm home with Sel and the burritos with a serious food coma. So much for tracking until Tuesday. Somebody fell off the wagon hard. Oh well. I'll do better next time. When the pizza and breadsticks are gone. Well I've got some cross-stitching to do and some Doctor Who to watch. And I'm going to think sweet thoughts about my future niece that's cooking in her mama's belly.

Five on Friday: Dissertation Boot Camp Edition

As my avid readers (are there actually any of you out there) know, I've spent the past 5 days in dissertation boot camp. And it has definitely been an experience to write home about. Get it, WRITE? I crack myself up sometimes. So my 5 today will focus on this boot camp.

-1-

Citing Someone Who Cited Enrico Fermi

Okay, I had a legitimate nerd out this morning as I was putting together my citations. I love the old documents from the Manhattan Project that I've been able to include in my bibliography because, HELLO, Manhattan Project! So as I was looking through the footnotes of the source-- Diffraction of Neutrons by a Single Crystal by W.H. Zinn-- and I see a name that I love, E. Fermi. If you don't know who Enrico Fermi is, he's a pretty big name when it comes to the science of the Manhattan Project (and  winner of a Nobel Prize in Physics). Want to know more? You can read about him here.

(This article is public domain, btw. I'm not breaking any copyright laws by including the above images)

-2-

The Dresscode

Yesterday, I wore sweatpants. No one said anything. And I wasn't the only one wearing them either. I think most people wore real clothes the first day of camp. The number of women in yoga pants after that was glorious. I can't tell you the last time I wore sweatpants to work, and whenever it was, it likely had something to do with a cast being on my leg or lumbar injections for 80-year-old back. It was AWESOME!

-3-

The People

When I talked about relationships here, I mentioned the importance of having "knowers" outside of your field. I met people from history, theology, sociology, medieval studies, etc. And it was really good to talk about grad school woes. For once, it felt like someone was saying, "Yeah. I totally know how you feel. It sucks. I get it." Instead of trying to convince me that graduate school was the best decision of my life and science and engineering and here's how I should fix my research. We talked about dogs (I love my burritos), unsupportive advisors, deadlines, and our research too (Everyone else's research sounded so cool). My favorite convo was linked to impostor syndrome and how it is just

-4-

Discovering the Library

Photo from nd.edu

So I have a confession to make. I have really never set foot into the building that is probably most well known for its mural affectionately called "Touchdown Jesus." I mean maybe I picked up a book or two, but I haven't spent any quality time there-- until this week. It's actually pretty nice. There's this area called the Fishbowl that has a large work area (think plenty of tables, chairs, outlets, even couches) that has plenty of natural light from the floor to ceiling windows and a beautiful view of the Basilica and "Stonehenge". And it allows food and drink. I think getting out of my normal environment and into an environment where I just can sit and write has been especially freeing. I think I'll be working here more often.

-5-

Getting Stuff Done

I have quite literally been checking things off my checklist left and right. My outline and drafts of Chapters 1 and 2 have been sent to my advisor for edits. I sent a draft of Chapter 3 to Sel to look over to see if he has any questions that might make the chapter more cohesive.

Well, there it is. In the wise words of my buddy Enrico, 

"It is no good to stop knowledge from going forward. Ignorance is never better than knowledge."

Setting Goals

So, I'm still pretty high on this dissertation camp train. I love it. Seriously, this is the most productive I've been ever in a long time. Don't believe me? I have pretty much finished drafts of my first three chapters. Not impressed? 70 pages. I have written 70 pages of text for my dissertation, which will be micro-analyzed and surely torn apart by my advisor. But that's beside the point. On to the topic at hand...The thing about camp is that everyone wants to talk about goals.

Goals, goals, goals.

I find that I really have a hard time setting realistic goals (I will lose 40lbs by reunion, which is like 2.5 months away-- sooooooooo not happening). And at the same time, I've made it pretty far setting my crappy goals (I am in graduate school, and I'm abd). But... I should probably start setting real, realistic goals. And when we had our mini-session on success today, one of the things they talked about is accountability. As in, tell someone your goals.

So blog-o-verse, I'm going to take this time to share some of my goals with you. Hopefully they are better than previous goals. And it's your turn to keep me accountable, however that looks for you. To keep things simple, I'm going to make one goal in three categories: Work, Health, and Job. And keep in mind a good goal is specific, measurable, and has a distinct timeline.

Work:  I will submit the draft copy of the first three chapters of my dissertation to my advisor by April 15.

Health: I will continue to log my food in my WeightWatchers tracker for the remainder of my WW week (weigh in on Tuesday). Oh, and yes I'm a weight watcher. And I'm also pretty bad on sticking to it.

Job: I will contact three potential PI's in regards to post-doctoral positions by May 1.

Okay. There it is. It's public (well at least if you are seeing this because I've posted it). But look at me, World. I'm setting goals. If you want to join me in this journey, feel free to link up. Or comment. Or whatever.

Wordless Wednesday: Snowstorm at Notre Dame

More Wordless Wednesday

Day 2: Today, We Talked about Relationships

So as part of dissertation boot camp, there are little sessions that discuss different aspects of the whole dissertation and preparing for the defense process. Today, we talked about relationships.

Conclusion: You should have them. And I'm not necessarily talking about romantic relations, but friends and family. I bet you are thinking, "If she found that as a surprise, then maybe she isn't smart enough to be in graduate school."

Addressing the last part first: I'm probably not smart enough to be in graduate school, or at least most days it feels like it. If I had to wrap up my graduate experience into a nice little neat box and give it a name, I'd call it humbling. Well, I'd probably actually call it hell, but humbling works too. When I first got into graduate school, I was all like "wow, World, look how smart I am!" Well the world had the last laugh in that one because I was exactly 20 seconds into my first day of grad school over the summer when I seriously hoped that no one could tell how much I didn't know. This, I'm told, is natural. But it doesn't necessarily go away with time. I still don't believe that I'm smart enough to be in graduate school and I've got about 9 months left. Fake it, 'til you make it.

Okay, now back to relationships. It wasn't a surprise- not necessarily. But really, relationships are REALLY hard when you're in grad school. No one tells you that. When I signed up for grad school, I didn't realize exactly what I was signing up for (which is probably a good thing because I don't think I would have signed up if I did). There have been months at a time where I feel like life couldn't get much worse, and lo and behold, it does. I've almost quit so many times, but fortunately/unfortunately, I've hit the point where no one, even myself, is going to let me quit. So with all that, there are two grouping of relationships you will have in graduate school: those who know and those who don't.

Okay, that's a bit harsh. But what it really comes down to is that there are people who knew and loved you before grad school who have this abstract idea of what grad school actually means. i.e. the people who tell me, "Oh. All you do is research. Well, that must be so easy." When I got to grad school and started realizing just what I signed up for, I could barely talk to these people. This group includes my mom, who could quite possibly qualify for best friend status, my best friend(s) from high school and college, etc... For some of these people, I just felt like I couldn't relate to them anymore. One hs friend wanted to know about my dating life when I would traverse back to the homestate and see her. DATING LIFE?! Didn't she know I was in survival mode? Just trying to, you know, survive the physical and emotional metaphorical rock called graduate school that was crushing me? I really had to learn how to navigate those relationships, and sometimes that meant letting go. Which was really hard. But at the same time, these relationships are necessary because, as our speaker told us, these people don't care how far we are into chapter 3. Their opinion of us doesn't change based on our success or failure (and there's a lot of failure) to grow spectacularly beautiful single crystals of a desired compound. They loved you before grad school, and they'll love you after.

And then there's the knowers. If you want an awesome friday night, hang out with a group of graduate students talking about grad school. Actually, that's terrible and depressing advice. Don't do it. Unless you're of course a grad student, or love a grad student. I went to dinner with three other graduate students last night and when the conversation turned to work, I swear a dark black cloud of suck just hovered over our table. Because we KNEW. The knowers are great because you can relate, you can bounce ideas off of them, you can gather advice and data. But these relationships are also really hard because, let's face it, I spent 9 hours yesterday focused on grad school stuff (and only minorly freaked out once a few times). When I get home, or to a restaurant, or a bar, I don't really want to have to think about grad school. I need to decompress. Work/Life balance, friends. And sometimes work makes me want punch someone in the face really hard, which I can contain for a certain amount of time (i.e. in the office/lab), but which I may (accidentally? who knows) unleash verbally on the person who is making me talk shop during playtime.

We also talked about the importance of balancing grad school with life outside of grad school. Unfortunately, there's no formula about exactly how that balance should go. And I still haven't mastered it. Plus, it's not like there's a real like between life and work. It's more wiggly and wobbly than that. Life bleeds into work, work bleeds into life. But I'm sure if you could find a formula that did give the proper proportion for each person, you could probably get a PhD for that. Or at least a gold star sticker. I'd go buy one for you for sure.

So, if I had to give a new graduate student advice about starting/surviving graduate school, I think I would say: Relationships. Have them. With those who know and those who don't. And make sure grad school doesn't become your entire life, which happens when you don't have relationships. See where I'm going here?

Adventures in Dissertation Boot Camp

So apparently before I do this thing called graduate, I also have to do this thing called write a dissertation. (And let's not get started on the dissertation vs. thesis thing because as far as I'm concerned it's a very murky difference) My office space is huge and loud, and it's not really conducive to putting words on paper-- let alone making those words be science-y/engineer-y and make sense. So, I see an advertisement for dissertation boot camp and sign myself up.

Honestly, I spent quite a bit of time deciding if spending from 8:30-5 each day for 5 days holed up in the library (okay, the fishbowl actually has floor to ceiling windows) for 5 days. Just think of the research I could be doing! Well, let's be realistic, I likely wouldn't be very productive, and this dissertation really needs to get written... or to at least start being written. And hopefully, at the end of this week, I'll have some semblance of an idea on what EXACTLY I need to finish up research-wise to give me a nice finished project.

Today, was my first day, and I tackled my outline and intro and have both in draft form. And it's looking like this baby that I'm giving birth to through my fingers (via my brain) will be about 15 chapters long. Woof. This is going to be a long haul. But one chapter is in draft form now. And another is well on its way. So I guess, I can do this (not that I really have a choice). And maybe now I can start throwing around that "g" word, now that I'm REALLY starting to write.

If I'm sporadic or short this week, that is why. Because I'm spending many hours a day trying to make my work sound exciting (my advisor told me my proposal was "dry and uninteresting"), and it's difficult to make hundreds of pages on uranium chemistry thrilling. My creative juices will mostly be spent by the time the clock hits 4:45 each day. So, sorry.

Five on Friday- March 7

Linking up with a liz adventures, carolina charm, hello! happiness, and the good life blog

I'm rather uninspired right now, so I thought I would hop on the blogging trend train with a link up.

1. Harney & Sons Hot Cinnamon Spice Tea

Since giving up coffee for Lent, I've been looking for some great teas. And this, my friends, is delicious. It's a black tea with cinnamon, orange, and cloves, and I could drink it all day, every day. It's that good.

2. Nerdy Little Stitcher's Etsy Shop

I love to cross-stitch (when I have the time), but I'm sick of cross-stitching cats looking out a window or a cardinal in a tree. If that's your thing, so be it. It just doesn't fit my decor, and I want to hang my craft for the world to see. So I found nerdylittlestitcher on Etsy, and I couldn't help myself. The patterns (counted cross-stitch, of course) are available for download. So if you're in to immediate gratification like me, it's perfect. I used the 6 Patterns for $15 to get this (and I do- most of the time), this (for my cousin the chiropractor), this (for my mom for mother's day- she's a cardiac nurse), this (I have this thing for infinity. It's tatoo-ed on the back of neck. That's how much I love infinity), this (because it's the truth), and this (home state represent!).

I'm going to buy the floss and aida cloth tomorrow. Stay tuned for the completed works.

3. Small Angle X-ray Scattering

Yeah, I have been spending this week trying to make sense of my data that I collected two weeks ago. Don't ask me how it's going. But I do love me some SAXS. And you can always tell who is paying attention at my conference talks when I say SAXS and a few heads pop up with a confused look on their face. No, sir, I did not do the deed with my samples.

4. Allegiant by Veronica Roth

I've definitely jumped on the train for Divergent. I can't wait to see the movie. Anyways, I just finished Insurgent (Book 2 of the series), and I can't wait to use my free time to read this (when I'm not cross-stitching)

5.  Little N is 1!

One of my super close friend's wife had a precious little baby one year ago today. It's taking a while for me to adjust to the fact that my friends are having kids, but now that N is 1 and more friends are pregnant, I guess it's about time. But seriously, this little man is adorable. I love him. Red hair and all. I stole this photo from his daddy's Facebook. Happy Baby, Little N!

That's it. Hope you are enjoying your Friday, lovelies! 

******************************************************************

And just so y'all know. No one is compensating me for this post. I bought these things with my own hard earned money. But I'm honored that you think, I'm that big of a blogger that I would get compensation. With my less than 10 posts, no followers, and no comments.

The One about Reunion

My college reunion is coming up at the end of May. I can't believe I've been out of that place for 5 years already. Even though I can visit the campus whenever I want, it's not the same as reunion. While I am really excited to see how the wonderful women I graduated with have changed in the past half-decade, I am mostly filled with anxiety. And embarrassment. That too.

For many of these ladies, I will be seeing them for the first time since graduation. And at graduation I was thin. Like really thin. You know how sometimes you look at other people's pic on Facebook/Twitter/Instagram/InsertSocialMediaHere to make yourself feel better about your current situation? (And don't lie, we've all done it.) Well, I'm pretty sure some of the girls would look at my pictures and REALLY have a field day. I have gained a lot of weight. And this isn't a vanity thing, I have put on almost 80 lbs since graduation. That's embarrassing. And humiliating. And awful. But there's a story here.

I have struggled with eating disorders for most of my life. I was a competitive gymnast and figure skater, and I was good (at least when it came to gymnastics). My lovely father would take away food from me because I was too fat, and there would be nightly session of him pointing out all my fat areas in a mirror. As a child. I constantly heard that I was so fat for anyone to ever love me. So, as one can imagine, insecurities were instilled in me from the very beginning. And the environment was prime for disordered eating.

Bulimia was my ED of choice. I was really good at hiding it. When I got to college and was diagnosed with Crohn's disease, I was put on steroids and gained weight. And starting with my sophomore year of college, I slipped back into cohoots with my best friend bulimia. Junior and Senior year, I lived alone in my apartment. I lost A LOT of weight. I became the skinny friend in some of my friend groups. Everyone told me how great I looked and how hot I was. It felt good. So I kept it up. I graduated college cum laude with a wonderful bunch of beautiful women, and I was thin and finally felt like one of them.

Right after graduation, I had some routine blood work done. And surprise! The constant binging and purging has left my body ragged. My liver enzymes were worrisome and indicated that I was on the road to liver failure. Awesome. My doctor, a good friend of my mom, sat me down and put two and two together. He couldn't tell on me, because I was 21 and HIPPA and stuff. But I had been caught. And now that I was living with my mom and my aunt, I couldn't continue the cycle. And I gained weight. And then more weight. And then more weight.

It's funny. When we look back on pictures from senior year of college when I hit my lowest weight, my friends all say that I was scary skinny. Honestly, I'm surprised that no one said anything- some of them were social workers. But I still look back on all those pictures, and I long for the body I had back then- even though I know it was unhealthy.

So when I see all the girls at graduation, I know no one will say it to my face, but there will be looks. I'll be the girl who let herself go, who makes them feel better about themselves. It's a sad society we live in that someone conquering an eating disorder gives other girls fodder. They feed their self-esteem by crushing others'. And honestly, I'm not sure I'm ready to deal with that. So Class of 2009, forgive me if I'm a little less than enthusiastic.

Today, I laughed

It's been a harrowing journey through this dark hole of suck. I'm currently in the depression phase of things. The only way to describe the experience is quite literally a dark hole of suck. It's draining and I can't concentrate at work. I'm trying to do some data reduction stuff from my run two weeks ago at a national lab, but the numbers all seem to run together and I just can't concentrate. Sometimes I accept that it's a victory that I got out of bed in the morning, put on real people clothes (sometimes... yoga pants are totally part of the grad school rotation), and sit at my desk at work. It's a major victory if I run an instrument or make a graph. I don't think my boss would understand, but it just takes everything I have to physically have my body at this desk.

Today, I had lunch with Gypsy again. She's basically my one grad school friend who I didn't obtain because they are friends with Sel. Gypsy is hilarious. Her entire nature is funny and she can make a joke of every situation. Our lunches are frequented by complaining about people in our labs (we're not in the same one) and talking about weddings (we're both engaged). It's a breath of fresh air from the environment I'm struggling in currently. Graduate school has not been an uplifting experience for me, and now that I've been given explicit directions to graduate in December (yay?), I just can't bring myself to actually do the things that will get me there. The bipolar often leaves me emotionally vulnerable, and my group isn't really a group you join for praise. Sometimes I just want to hear that I'm doing a good job. And Gypsy gets it.

Our lunch usually concludes with getting coffee (tea for me today- and the rest of Lent), and today we got our drinks and began the trek back to our respective buildings. I said something that Gypsy turned into a joke. And for the first time in a long time, I laughed. The genuine laugh that just fills your body. I wanted to fall to the ground and hold my stomach and laughed, but it's cold and there's snow and we've already covered that I'm not crazy. It felt good. Now that I can laugh, maybe this dark hole of suck isn't so dark. Or so deep.

"also, I wanted to chat about Lent"

You should know this about me. I am a really bad Catholic- not that I'm a bad person, I'm just bad at being Catholic. I'm 26, working on my PhD, and I've never been to a school that is not Catholic. Holy double negative. In case that was confusing, I'm on year 22 of Catholic education. I honestly think my mom stuck me in Catholic school because of a promise she made at her wedding- to raise her family with the Church. My father though going to Mass was pointless. In fact, he wouldn't let us go to Mass. I remember going to Mass on the weekend with my mom all of three times before The Day the World Changed (a story for another time), and each time resulted in a disaster when we got home. My Catholic grade school required that all students (K-8) attend mass once a week. My mom made sure I got my God in and made my sacraments.

Grad school makes it really hard to be Catholic, especially in science and engineering. Ironic since my school has been affectionately labelled as "Catholic Disneyland". I never really had trouble reconciling my faith with my passion (science) growing up or through college, but as soon as I entered my PhD program, I was faced with some pretty harsh opinions- mostly that you couldn't be a good scientist and a good Christian. At first, I defended my faith (But we believe in evolution!), but grad school is really, really hard. Like emotionally, physically, and spiritually (see this article on mental health and academia). I found that the only way I could survive was just to let the waves take me. And those waves had a lot to say about Catholicism. I feel like I need to say that for a Catholic, I'm fairly liberal. I by no means agree with every single teaching that exists, but the waves were scraping at the foundations of the faith that I was raised on.

Not to make excuses, but it's really hard to be a Catholic scientist/engineer getting your PhD. There are some people who do it really well. And I admire those people. But I am really bad at it. Some things I wouldn't change- I'm not about to give up on the cohabitation situation or the birth control. However, I could be better. Like, you know, by going to Mass, receiving Communion. Those kind of things. And as we approach this season of reflection, I think Lent is the perfect time to stop caring if the people around me poke fun because I went to Mass and find transubstantiation to be a legit thing.

So yesterday, my dear friend E and I were doing our normal chat routine and she said exactly what I was thinking:

E: also, I wanted to chat about Lent
S: omg can we do this please

Because, you know, we're Catholic. And we get excited to talk about Lent. And help each other during the season. E and I are going to be Mass buddies. Starting tomorrow.  Is it bad that I need a Mass Accountabilabuddy? Probably. But at least I'm trying to make myself better. And if you're wondering, in addition to renewing my vigor in and embracing my Catholicness, I'm giving up coffee. For all of Lent. (Said the girl who drinks at least 3 cups a day).  Lord, help us all.

Our New Pet, "Stinky"

I'm an evening showerer. I don't blow-dry my hair, and it is not healthy/pleasant to go outside with windchills of negative 10 with wet hair. So I shower at night. Last night, it took until about 9pm to muster the strength to go grocery shopping with Sel, so my shower was later than normal. I was super excited because I got these new bath gloves and was ready for some mad exfoliating. I was reaching to throw them on the bath shelf with my shampoo in prep for my shower when I saw something move. Crawling about 5 inches from my hand was this...

Cue a nice little scream from yours truly. Sel and our two burritos (um... dogs) come racing up the stairs and bust into the bathroom. To me. Butt naked. Stammering on about a stink bug. They get their name because they produce this stinky odor when crushed or scared. So there's no moving this thing. I happen to like the fact that my bathroom (the only bathroom in our house) smells like not-stink bug. So my remaining option was to shower anyways. 

Sundays are no contact days for me. And I really needed to be able to see where this stinker for the duration of my shower. I actually showered with my glasses on, which was pretty difficult. And my brief shower was even more brief because who can actually enjoy a shower with a stink bug watching you. Answer: no one. And no, I'm not generally afraid of bugs. They are a necessary part of God's creation. There are places in my house that I'd be okay sharing with a bug or two. However, the bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen are not places where insects are welcome.

And this morning, I couldn't find Stinky. No clue where he is. But I think I'll stay away for the bathroom for awhile. Good thing I'm stocked up on my favorite body spray...

Getting this one out of the way

No one ever talks about mental illness. And when they do, it isn't very favorable talk. In fact, the addition of the word "mental" to the front of the phrase is likely the reason why. It's all in his/her head. Of course it is. If it wasn't, then it would just be illness, right? Like diabetes. Or cancer.

"Let's not talk to Susie, she has diabetes. Maybe if she was just more positive about things, her pancreas would function like a normal pancreas," said no one ever.

Because, you know, if you just put on a positive attitude, mental illness will go away. Right?

Well, I'm sorry to tell you this, but if you hold that belief, you are wrong. And I know from personal experience. Truthfully, this blog is a little heavy for a second post ever. But if you are going to read about my life, I want to be honest. And honestly, if you're going to judge me for my mental illness, then I don't really want you to read into my life. Or maybe reading about it will do you some good.

Hello, my name is Stella, and I'm bipolar. And if you have known me all my life, you may not know it. I told my friend Gypsy on Friday, and her response was, "But you can't be bipolar, you're not..." Cue embarrassed look on Gypsy's face. "Crazy" was the word she was looking for, I'm pretty sure. Because if you have a mental illness, you're crazy. (Someone should tell that to the 57.7 million people in the United States who have been diagnosed with a mental illness. Thanks, NIMH for that little stat.)

Earlier Friday, I was talking with some coworkers. One girl was reading The Silver Linings Play Book.

If you've seen the movie, I recommend you read the book. It's a good read and a little more personal than the movie. In the book, you are reading his thoughts and fears and dreams. And if you have no experience with mental illness (lucky you), you may feel lost, and overwhelmed, and think it's incredulous. I read the book a year after being diagnosed as bipolar, and, for the first time since my diagnosis, I finally thought someone understood me.

Coworker: I'm trying to read this book, but it's just too exaggerating. Everything is to the extreme.
           Me: Real? I think the word you are looking for is real.
Coworker: No. Seriously. Anyone who thinks like him is just crazy.

She said it, the dreaded "c" word. The word that we slap on people who have a mental illness, as a warning sign, but from what? Because I know someone who has migraines (Hi, E!), and I don't think, "Gee. I should really never associate with E, she has migraines, and I just don't want to be associated with that." But I have heard people say that about people like me. I can think myself out of bipolar disorder no more than an amputee can this his/her way back to having a functional limb.

Bipolar disorder is a "brain disorder"- as in, something is actually wrong with the way my brain functions. Like a diabetic has a malfunctioning pancreas, like a person with inflammatory bowel disease has a malfunctioning digestive tract. Like the two ailments I just listed, there's medicine to aid in managing bipolar disorder. However, no one tells a diabetic that they probably don't actually NEED the insulin. There's no stigma with taking an immunosuppressant for IBD. You know what there is a stigma for? Taking medicine to help with mental illness, which in turn makes things even worse-- just like if you tried to think your way out of diabetes without the medication.

So, if you know someone with a mental illness. Love them. Because being physically sick when the world tells you it's all in your head really, really sucks. And don't ask them why they have to take medicine or when they will "get better." Just LOVE them. Like you would love anyone else.

For a some great blogs about depression, look here and here.

Now, my future hubby, let's call him Sel, has been waiting patiently to dig into the his left-over birthday cake for breakfast. And I'm going to join him (you CAN judge me for that, if you want). So happy Sunday! I'll try not to be so heavy next time.