Could have, should have, would have!

What is in the past is the past!

I do have to say that I am still extremely pissed that I worked so hard for a piece of paper that would say I was an expert. Stupid piece of paper! I received my Master's diploma in the mail a few weeks ago and placed it in the university issued diploma holder. No, I am not happy with that diploma or holder but everyday gets better.

Lately, I have tried my very best to enjoy the easy life. You know, not worrying about writing your dissertation/thesis, keeping up to date with recent literature, and definitely not worrying about taking time to enjoy the family with NO regrets. As a student, I always worried that someone would see me taking time to enjoy a TV show, read a comic that is not PhD comics, or read a spicy, sexy novel. It is hard to transition to a non-academic life. I see and read the progress of all my family, friends and scholastic peers and I have to admit... I'm jealous.

One thing that I have learned from this is that I miss the busy life. I realize now, that at the end of my graduate career, the past three years, I also suffered greatly from impostor syndrome. And that what I needed was a little support from my advisor, a mention that I really did know my stuff. If you are a graduate student or post-graduate then you know that your advisor hardly tells you that really know your shit and maybe it is because they expect that you already know, that s/he knows, you know your shit. You are the expert of your research!

Last thought for this post: I am not happy with where I am in my life and I want MORE! I am not being challenged and I miss talking science.

Now I am off to pick up my daughter from preschool!!!

THE Committee Meeting

My apologies for the delay. I have been dealing with depression. Some days are great, some are good and others are just down right terrible. Last week, I was so sad. I kept rethinking my new situation and the conversations I had with my advisor concerning the switch from PhD to MS. My anger rose and self-doubt crept right back in. I started crying while dissecting tissue. But the other part of me kept saying to get over it. What's done is done and now it's time to move on. But I was not only crying because I didn't get the degree I wanted, or felt like a failure, I was crying because I felt alone. I can't describe it, the "alone" feeling because I'm not alone. My husband and mom must have had a sixth sense because they both called me that day. I felt SO much better after talking with my mom and spending the afternoon with my husband. Then "CLICK" it was all over. The depression was gone. CRAZY!

Back to the journey. The Spring Semester!

I came back from vacation with a great sense of ... worth. My first manuscript was submitted, I was making great progress on the second manuscript and I was talking more with my advisor. Everything seemed to be going well. I was confident I would defend that semester. I even decided to put my foot down with my advisor. I remember telling her that I wanted this semester to be the last semester. I was pretty much out of work and I was sick and tired of my project. The ever cautious advisor said let's talk with your committee. I was super nervous. My last committee meeting was at least two years ago. Plus, I hadn't practiced my science "speak" with scientists. I'm talking about the causal conversations you have with your peers concerning your work, why it works, why it doesn't, possibilities to fix the problems with your work and what to do next. The practice I had while in grad school kind of just withered away without the interactions with other nerds.

At my committee meeting, I prepared a chapter by chapter presentation of my dissertation, including all the extra data that I hadn't figured out how to organize for the fourth chapter. The background (intro chapter) and next two chapters (two manuscripts) went great. The fourth part of the presentation, all the extra don't know what to do with it data, was my down fall.

I thought going into the presentation that the committee would help me figure out what to do with all the extra data. But I was WRONG!!! At this point of the grad program, I should have been able to pick out the data from the extra data to make a complete story. My bad.

See the thing is, I wanted the meeting to be a discussion of my data, a conversation, a guide but instead it was a "let's see if she deserves a PhD" meeting. And it was all good until the stupid fourth chapter. I wasn't prepared for the looks the committee gave me, the "what the hell happened to the organization" and "that is a whole of data with no story to it" look. My "I've got this!" turned into "oh f**k!".

The committee said I should have been able to give a complete story and my advisor, I think, was horrified/surprised that I hadn't. My mistake was not sending my presentation to her prior to the meeting. I honestly didn't think it was a do or die meeting, literally. I understood that they were going to see my performance, my ability, my science. I wanted to know what I needed to do to become better and help prepare me for my PhD defense. For goodness sake, I was out of the loop-hole for two years! I could have/would have done better, have been much better prepared, if I had thought the meeting to be a defining moment in my graduate career.

To be cont...

Finding myself

So, hypothyroid seems to be under control with medication and my anxiety was slowly reducing, of course due to the medication I was taking. I was making progress with my writing and I finally found a job working as a lab tech in another department.

I remember going in for the interview. I put on my super self-confident, friendly, not too girlie character in full swing. Cool and confident, since the person I was interviewing with seemed to prefer those character traits. But I tell you, that was not how I was feeling inside. Inside, I was defeated and desperate! "Please hire me! I need money!" was all that I was thinking. I forgot to add that this was also a time that the university was in a hiring freeze. Can you believe it! It was the middle of the recession. I couldn't have picked a better time to be desperate for work. LOL!

I got the job and started working immediately. This job was my second step to recovery. I was able to see how the PI interacted with his graduate students. It was somewhat different from what I was used too. Weekly lab meetings which included not only student updates but also reviews of literature pertinent to the student's research. Another thing I noticed was the quick PI manuscript turn around. At least a week, never more than two. I was beginning to get envious. Although the lab I was working in was a completely different field, I felt like my old self was slowly coming back.

While working as a lab tech, I applied for an adjunct faculty position in hopes to teach psychology. I felt that with my graduate background, neuroscience, I would be able to teach an intro psychology course for the community college. Funny thing is that they called me in to interview for a math position. That fall semester, I worked as a lab tech in the mornings and taught three remedial math courses in the afternoon. To top things off, I went home and transformed to the Mama and wifie. After my daughter went to bed, I worked on my manuscripts. I loved it!

I was back to my old self. I love being busy. I am much more efficient and productive when I am truly busy. During the fall semester I found myself again and pledged to myself I would be done the following semester. At the end of the fall semester, I graded finals, wrapped stuff up in the lab for the holidays and submitted my very first manuscript. I felt accomplished and hopeful.

One more semester and I will be done! I knew that in the spring semester I wouldn't be teaching because the university canceled the contract with the community college and work was extremely slow in the lab. It couldn't have been a better time to wrap up my project.

In the next blog, I will begin to explain what happened in the spring semester. That is the emotional part of this whole experience. The spring semester is the main reason for this blog.

To be continued...

Anxiety

Why is it that when you sit to type all the thoughts in your head nothing comes out! I mean really! After learning to write scientifically, which is much more different than writing for the general public, I find it hard to NOT nit-pick what my first words should be. I find it even harder to type what I am thinking and not really go back and make sure everything is appropriately structured and precisely written.

Let's continue with my story.  I was a ghost to the department and after some discussion with my advisor, who was trying to make me feel better, said to me that everyone had thought I just dropped out of the program. How would that make me feel better? She continued to mention that other students in my position would have dropped out but I hadn't. Ok, that made me feel a little bit better. Just a little. I will continue with this story later when I describe more of my discussion with my advisor later.

I was a ghost to the department not just because I was avoiding everyone but also because I ran out of funding. No funding = no research. At this very time I was trying to manage my hypothyroidism. A few months after the hypothyroid diagnosis, lack of research funding and stress from the department, I was diagnosed with anxiety. I would like to expand a little about my anxiety diagnosis.

My department was able to stretch out my grant funding for another year after having my daughter and then extend the last of the monies for another mid-summer, although the check was extremely smaller. This dwindling financial resource was putting a strain on our family. Stress was coming at me from everywhere! I wanted to get done. I wanted to work on my project. I wanted to submit my manuscripts. I wanted to get published. I wanted more help. I think my downfall was not getting more help, not asking for help. But I did get some help, after crying rivers to my Dr for medication to help me focus. I remember telling her that I just couldn't focus or concentrate on anything. I also couldn't sleep and suffered from insomnia. I can remember reading the same paragraph that I had just written over and over again because I could not remember what I just wrote or how I wanted to change/improve the paragraph.  I was falling hard and fast, and I wanted the Dr to give me drugs! My doctor did not want to give me stimulants without first determining what was really the problem, ADD, depression or anxiety. Damn it! I wanted to walk out of the Dr's office with a nice prescription in hand, drugs to help me focus. Instead, my prescription was to see a psychologist.

At the clinic, I cried rivers again and was officially diagnosed with anxiety. Great! I know what is wrong, now give me drugs! You would think I was a drug addict by the way I wanted drugs. I didn't care what kind of drugs, I just wanted drugs right then and there! I wanted to work and get work done. No drugs yet. I had to see another doctor to get the prescription the next day. Shit! Can you tell I was desperate! Finally, I was prescribed three different types of drugs: two were anti-depressants, one for anxiety and the other for sleeping, the last one was a beta-blocker for the panic attacks. I have to say I love(d) the beta-blocker. It was instant relief! My goodness, I had no idea that my heart was racing so fast, so hard, until I drank that first pill. I could breath and my thoughts were returning. I swear it took only a minute to kick in!

When you suffer from anxiety, your body is always in a "fight or flight" mode. There is no concentrating when you running away from a hungry bear! You just run. Can you image I was in this mode 24/7? How exhausting!

So I took my daily anti-anxiety/depression medication everyday and my beta-blocker every time I sat to work on my papers. After four weeks, my daily med was working and I was working consistently on my manuscripts. I was able to get a job as a part-time lab tech.

I was motivated again and I could concentrate! Yay, I was making progress! It was slow, as it was taking weeks to get comments on my manuscript but I was feeling better.

Next blog, I will write about how my lab tech and teaching jobs help bring back some self-confidence.

Introduction to ABD PhD Mommy

I don’t know really where to start. ABD stands for All But Dissertation, I have all the training for a PhD except that I did/have not written and defended a dissertation. Now before I get into the specifics of my PhD/graduate student life/career, I want to divulge the purpose of this blog.

My goal for this blog is to help me express my feelings, my disappointment, my ever decreasing self confidence and provide me the therapeutic outlet I would normally have with my girl friends. I just need to release… and breathe once again.

So where do I start? Do I start with my goal of getting a PhD since high school? Do I start with my first years at the community college then transfer to the university? Do I start with my first real research experience or the beginning of graduate school? Or do I start with the end which in hindsight should really be the beginning of something new?

I think I will start where it all began… my pregnancy, approximately four years ago. My husband and I never wanted children, we were to self absorbed to care for a little human, but we decided we should have at least one and we did. I was in my 5^th year in my PhD neuroscience graduate program. I was at an excellent place! I had already passed my preliminary exam/proposal defense, a PhD candidate (not student), with several scholarship awards, an NIH (National Institute of Health) grant, and at the tail end of my graduate career. My research was mostly done and I had started writing the first of two “supposed” manuscripts. What is the best time to have a child? There is never a perfect time to have a child but I believed I was at the best place possible, with the flexibility of grad school and supportive husband, why not!

The first trimester of pregnancy was tough with constant nausea. Everyone kept telling me to think positive, to think of the wonderful bundle of joy with I will hold in my hands after nine months. The only thing I could think of at the time was how this little parasite was making me feel so awfully sick! Then in the later trimesters, I could not think straight, concentrate or remember any sorts of information. Stupid “mommy brain”! Stupid hormones! Ugh! That was the beginning of the end of my PhD program.

I worked through my pregnancy and learned a new technique, all the while trying to write up my first manuscript. I had a supportive mentor and department. Following a c-section, I took six weeks off from my graduate program. After my time off, I went back to work. Six months after the birth of my lovely daughter, I lost all energy, concentration and motivation to work on my project. After talking with my doctor and some blood work, I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism. At the same time, I ran out of funding and my department was, to put it nicely, extremely encouraging me to wrap up my project.  Prior to my pregnancy, this would not have been an issue. I would be able to concentrate, focus and dedicate most of my time to finish up my project. But I was trying to get my hormones under control with medication. I believe my hypothyroidism provided the foundation to the anxiety I suffered due to the stress. I completely shut down! Every single time I sat to write or go to the lab, I suffered a panic attack. I had no idea that my heart was always racing. I would sit to write or read my own work and I could not get through one sentence in one day. When I finally had something to turn in, it would take my advisor anywhere from 4 to 8 weeks to make comments and suggestions, then it would take me about the same time to give her back my corrections. It took us over a year to get one of my manuscripts ready for submission.

At this very low point in my life, I felt like I was defeated! I could not go to the lab not because there were people in the lab, I was the only one working in the lab, no lab tech, no students, just me, but because I could not face the people in my department. Once you reach your 5^th year in a graduate program, people begin to ask when you will defend. I believed that I, after being in the program almost seven years at this point, could not face this question anymore. I did not know the answer to the question and it gave me panic attacks! Would I ever finish? Would I ever get my PhD?  

I was a ghost to the department and I’m pretty sure they thought I had just drifted away into oblivion. Only two people really knew I was still slowly, and I mean at a snail’s pace, working on my project, my mentor and my fellow classmate and friend “Watson”. Her real name will be kept anonymous because this anonymity provides me the ability to write freely without anyone knowing who I am. Of course my girlfriends knew of all my troubles but Watson and my mentor were the two people who looked at my work in progress.

I think this is a good place to stop for now. This is a long story but one that I have to get out. And really it is to help me but I hope this will help others as well.

To be continued…