Though the precise wording varies a bit (aka a lot), Vanilla Ice was onto something: the power to stop - and listen.
Over the last few weeks, I've really struggled to balance doctoral studies - which is supposed be my main priority as a full-time student - and responsibilities associated with my research assistant (RA)-ship (what is paying for my school and a small stipend). Except balance isn't the right word or phrasing; adequately tackle or appropriately execute might be closer to what I'm trying to get at - except I feel like I'm miserably failing at each juncture.
(Re)learning how to be a successful student has turned out to be more painful than I expected; the added layer of (re)hurling myself into the actual nitty gritty of research has left me spinning and questioning everything. On the school front, I'm constantly forgetting to bring the right notebooks or printouts to class, and while I should be studying, reading ahead (or let's be honest, catching up on reading), or working on homework during the evenings after my RAship, my brain is fried from being in class every morning and then abruptly shifting gears to being in the office and trying to tackle some aspect of a five-year research project I'm still trying to understand. Five-to-six hours pass like a second when you're attending research team meetings, emailing with external partners about time-sensitive project needs like control patient selection (which take forever since I'm trying to double-check research protocols, site-specific data considerations, etc.), and reincarnating the scraps of mediocre coding skills I developed from 2008 to 2011 (and had essentially abandoned until this year). I come home mentally obliterated without much tangible progress to show, and disappointed in myself for not staying on top of it all, nevermind actually accomplishing much. Writing projects I hoped to chip away at are withering away in Google drives and email messages, and every other day or so I'm hit with a searing pang of guilt or worry about my colleagues or respected collaborators must increasingly loathe me, or worse, view me as irresponsible and/or someone who lets people down. I feel like the years of hard work I've put into building a reputation of reliability; a producer of high-quality research and scientific writing; and thoughtful collaborator are crumbling before me. My self-confidence has spiralled alongside a vicious feedback loop of negativity, and while I've so appreciated the friends and colleagues who have kindly listened to me, I quickly find talking about my current challenges as abhorrent as I'm feeling. It's like - so many people pursue doctorates and do so while juggling more classes, more work demands (one of my cohortmates is a practicing physician while also seeking his PhD [!!]), more family needs (a number of my cohortmates have children), etc., and here I am...a flailing lump of organs and appendages who has no patients, dependents, partner, or even dog I need to look out for. This is it, my only real responsibility, this investment in myself and my future career opportunities - and I feel like I'm blowing it. And doing so just one month in.
I broke down over the weekend, and emailed my faculty advisor, tearfully requesting a mid-quarter 1:1 to garner guidance on how to navigate, well, everything better. It was immediately scheduled for this Thursday. Today I received more valuable feedback on how I was overthinkng and thus overcomplicating everything; the ship had sailed on setting up a more perfect study design, and in the absence of more direction, I was still circling research rabbit holes. Though my comfort with calling some of the shots is unlikely to suddenly escalate, it's something I hope I can work through with my faculty advisor. That and identify tangible ways to start building back a more successful structure to my day-to-day. As it turns out - at least for me - 10 years of full-time(+) work doesn't seamlessly translate into being a decent, let alone stellar, doctoral student. And to make that transition better, I need to carve more moments to reflect on what I'm struggling with and find more productive ways to work through them. Today, after I spent three- to- four hours of studying for my biostats midterm, I went on what could barely be considered a run; it was a jog, at best. Yet those 30 minutes outside, listening to an absolutely ridiculous podcast (I broke into quite audible laughter several times) as I slogged along, was enough to brighten a few corners of my battered brain, or at least for the rest of the afternoon and now evening. I rewrote out the equations I need to memorize for tomorrow's midterm, and gained slightly more clarity on biostats concepts that were alluding me. It's far, far from perfect, but it's a start.
Stop. Recalibrate. And listen. Maybe it can get better. And maybe it will.
Today I learned...
My studying technique of writing out class slides, notes, and examples on a large sticky pad thing and posting them in my entryway might actually be working. Tomorrow will determine its true effectiveness, but under initial pilot conditions, I think I'm reviewng and learning the material with a method that works well for me.
Today I'm grateful for...
The kind, supportive words I received yesterday from a person whom, despite breaking up nearly a year ago, I still deeply love and miss.
Today's best part...
Was twofold: (1) our epidemiology class's "journal club" section led by Maayan Simckes, who is amazing; and (2) my "run"/jog out in the world. And it wasn't even raining.
Over the last few weeks, I've really struggled to balance doctoral studies - which is supposed be my main priority as a full-time student - and responsibilities associated with my research assistant (RA)-ship (what is paying for my school and a small stipend). Except balance isn't the right word or phrasing; adequately tackle or appropriately execute might be closer to what I'm trying to get at - except I feel like I'm miserably failing at each juncture.
(Re)learning how to be a successful student has turned out to be more painful than I expected; the added layer of (re)hurling myself into the actual nitty gritty of research has left me spinning and questioning everything. On the school front, I'm constantly forgetting to bring the right notebooks or printouts to class, and while I should be studying, reading ahead (or let's be honest, catching up on reading), or working on homework during the evenings after my RAship, my brain is fried from being in class every morning and then abruptly shifting gears to being in the office and trying to tackle some aspect of a five-year research project I'm still trying to understand. Five-to-six hours pass like a second when you're attending research team meetings, emailing with external partners about time-sensitive project needs like control patient selection (which take forever since I'm trying to double-check research protocols, site-specific data considerations, etc.), and reincarnating the scraps of mediocre coding skills I developed from 2008 to 2011 (and had essentially abandoned until this year). I come home mentally obliterated without much tangible progress to show, and disappointed in myself for not staying on top of it all, nevermind actually accomplishing much. Writing projects I hoped to chip away at are withering away in Google drives and email messages, and every other day or so I'm hit with a searing pang of guilt or worry about my colleagues or respected collaborators must increasingly loathe me, or worse, view me as irresponsible and/or someone who lets people down. I feel like the years of hard work I've put into building a reputation of reliability; a producer of high-quality research and scientific writing; and thoughtful collaborator are crumbling before me. My self-confidence has spiralled alongside a vicious feedback loop of negativity, and while I've so appreciated the friends and colleagues who have kindly listened to me, I quickly find talking about my current challenges as abhorrent as I'm feeling. It's like - so many people pursue doctorates and do so while juggling more classes, more work demands (one of my cohortmates is a practicing physician while also seeking his PhD [!!]), more family needs (a number of my cohortmates have children), etc., and here I am...a flailing lump of organs and appendages who has no patients, dependents, partner, or even dog I need to look out for. This is it, my only real responsibility, this investment in myself and my future career opportunities - and I feel like I'm blowing it. And doing so just one month in.
I broke down over the weekend, and emailed my faculty advisor, tearfully requesting a mid-quarter 1:1 to garner guidance on how to navigate, well, everything better. It was immediately scheduled for this Thursday. Today I received more valuable feedback on how I was overthinkng and thus overcomplicating everything; the ship had sailed on setting up a more perfect study design, and in the absence of more direction, I was still circling research rabbit holes. Though my comfort with calling some of the shots is unlikely to suddenly escalate, it's something I hope I can work through with my faculty advisor. That and identify tangible ways to start building back a more successful structure to my day-to-day. As it turns out - at least for me - 10 years of full-time(+) work doesn't seamlessly translate into being a decent, let alone stellar, doctoral student. And to make that transition better, I need to carve more moments to reflect on what I'm struggling with and find more productive ways to work through them. Today, after I spent three- to- four hours of studying for my biostats midterm, I went on what could barely be considered a run; it was a jog, at best. Yet those 30 minutes outside, listening to an absolutely ridiculous podcast (I broke into quite audible laughter several times) as I slogged along, was enough to brighten a few corners of my battered brain, or at least for the rest of the afternoon and now evening. I rewrote out the equations I need to memorize for tomorrow's midterm, and gained slightly more clarity on biostats concepts that were alluding me. It's far, far from perfect, but it's a start.
Stop. Recalibrate. And listen. Maybe it can get better. And maybe it will.
Today I learned...
My studying technique of writing out class slides, notes, and examples on a large sticky pad thing and posting them in my entryway might actually be working. Tomorrow will determine its true effectiveness, but under initial pilot conditions, I think I'm reviewng and learning the material with a method that works well for me.
Today I'm grateful for...
The kind, supportive words I received yesterday from a person whom, despite breaking up nearly a year ago, I still deeply love and miss.
Today's best part...
Was twofold: (1) our epidemiology class's "journal club" section led by Maayan Simckes, who is amazing; and (2) my "run"/jog out in the world. And it wasn't even raining.
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