Reimagining your Professional Identity as a Scientist with Chronic Illness – Part II

Since around the time I was planning my graduation, I had been giving a lot of thought about how I can be a scientist without pushing my body farther than it can realistically go. I was lucky that I could still work and that meant a lot to me. I wanted to keep it that way instead of sending myself down a bad spiral with a workload I could not handle. But I found it terribly hard to extricate myself from the “academic conditioning” that academia is the only way to go for a Ph.D.

From my internal deliberations then, aimed at redefining my professional identity, was born this series of posts. At a time when I felt lost, not seeing a way forward for myself if I did not continue on the path I was already on, this series of steps helped me devise a new direction for myself.

While I hope it will be helpful for other scientists/grad students seeking a path outside of academia as well, this post is not only for them. Too many of us spoonies are forced to relinquish existing careers we cannot handle anymore. I hope this post is also helpful for them who may be wondering where they could possibly go if they quit a job they closely identify with.

IMG_0353
The path “least trodden” is the path forged for oneself by one alone.

In Part I of this series, I discussed Step 1, getting over the guilt of leaving academia, before I could even start thinking about other paths. The guilt was on many levels, but I mostly felt bad about how I was another statistic adding to the list of chronically ill people leaving academic science, instead of standing up to it and perhaps helping to make the road easier for future grad students like me.

But I quickly learned that you cannot educate everybody — even when you talk the science behind your condition to other scientists. I also learned that my first responsibility is to always to myself; I cannot do anything for others if I cannot take care of me first. And if I wanted to continue sciencing, I would have to find a fairer path than the one I was on.

IMG_1602
Allow yourself the freedom to fly free

Once I got that, I was able to move on to the three core steps that helped me figure out where I could take my life after academia.

Step 2. Understanding what you enjoy about your current work

Assuming you enjoy doing what you currently do, figure out what exactly is it about the job that you like. Let’s call these “transferrable interests.

For me, the intellectual aspect of the job was perhaps the most rewarding, followed by the thought that my work might benefit people in some way some day. I also enjoyed the hands-on “bench work,” i.e. all the pipetting, playing with test tubes and chemical solutions, and sticking them in fancy machines that use mind-blowing technology. Regardless of the frustrations inherent in “bench work,” I found joy in the process itself, regardless of the results (though a successful result always added to the joy!). And finally, I enjoyed sharing knowledge with others (through talks/seminars) and helping a new generation find the joy in science (through my role as a teacher).

Figuring out what about your day to day activities bring you happiness is a great place to start, because it lays the foundation for the kinds of jobs to seek. Ideally, you would then look for jobs where you can still engage in as many of these interests as possible.

IMG_0539 (2)
Look within to find your own daily source of joy

Step 3. Recognizing what you are good at in what you do

This is the part about “transferrable skills.” Many grad students (including myself) get so absorbed in the day to day workings of the lab, that we start to feel like our skill is the entire package. But if we look at the components of the package, we realize that the individual skills could be applied to other things. For example, nearly all grad students probably have the at least some of the following skills by the time they finish grad school:

  • Creative as well as critical thinking
  • Troubleshooting skills (i.e. ability to figure out what’s wrong and how to fix it)
  • Research skills (i.e. the ability to sift through a haystack to find the needle)
  • Solid argumentation skills (i.e. being able to back up what you say with facts)
  • Ability to clearly communicate verbally and in written medium
  • Ability to communicate to both specialized and non-specialized audiences
  • Experience with Microsoft Office (or equivalent) products, other softwares (e.g. statistical or image manipulation tools), and/or technical skills (e.g. programming)
  • Great organization and project management skills
  • Tenacity to see both short- and long-term projects through to the end, regardless of their complexity

Recognizing the specific things that you are good at helps in two ways: (1) it adds to your confidence that all that time you spent in grad school wasn’t wasted time even if you cannot continue in your planned path; and (2) it helps you start practically looking for where you can now apply your skills, and get paid for doing what you are good at!

Once I overlaid the jobs that that matched both my skills as well as interests, I knew I finally had ball rolling!

IMG_2022 (3)
Recognize your own blossoms

Step 4. Realizing what #2 and #3 tell you about you

Understanding your transferrable interests and skills are great, and they might help find job options that sound good on paper — but they alone may not serve you well in finding a new fulfilling job until you understand what your interests and skills tell you about your core values and motivations.

For instance, I would describe myself as a scientist with a heart; who sees science as way of bettering the world and helping humanity. I am not someone who views science as a way of making money or how to snag the next big patent or paper. I am also not a science snob; I enjoy talking science with other scientists and non-scientists alike. More than scientific facts, I lay emphasis on the scientific process, which I like to talk about with people, to help them make informed decisions. But I also recognize that not all things can be done “scientifically;” some things are just based on how you feel, and I don’t discount the validity of that approach, when appropriate, either.

Realizing the motivations that drive our interests and motivate us to master the skill sets that we are good at help to rule out certain jobs that may involve doing the things we like but does not fit with our overall personality.

For example, I could not see myself working in a place where the primary motivation for doing science was profit. (I have nothing against making money, as long as that is not the core goal of the science I am doing.) Knowing this helped me rule out certain options (e.g. the pharmaceutical industry), and helped me draw up a shortlist of potential job options.

058
When you find yourself considering an unlikely branch, return to your roots to see if that’s where you belong.

In the third and final segment of this series, I will discuss the last two steps in my process, as I used my reflections to draw up a list of potential career paths and the final considerations I made, especially regarding my health, before moving forward.

But these are the core three steps that I used to actively decondition myself from thinking that academia is all there is for me. Breaking down my job into its component parts and analyzing what it all meant to me helped me realize there may even be potentially better directions for me out there than what academia had to offer!

At all major forks in life, I feel like some introspection is key to helping us overcome the hurdles and find a reasonable solution. But it can feel like we are lost in a sea of confusion when we are faced with losing a career path we closely identified with. In times like that, I hope these steps can help one understand why the job means as much as to them as it does, and then apply those core motivations in a more health-friendly direction. Stay tuned for more on that in the next post.

Love,

Fibronacci

Weekly Photo Challenge: Out of this World

Seeing a flare to its end (or what I hope is the end anyway) is a feeling truly out of this world!

After being stuck in the tunnel for so long, to finally see some light at the end, is a delightful feeling.

Featured image: Creation, oil on 18X24″ canvas (available)

And yet I struggle with the thought that this is as good as it’s ever going to get. For everyone else, life expands, they incorporate more and more experiences as they move forward. And I am happy if it simply doesn’t contract any more! I move forward too, but always against the wind, and always aware of the limitations.

And yet, as a human being, we register differences in condition more than so than the absolute value of it. This means that despite all the limits placed on me, my instant reaction is one of pure joy, an expansion of consciousness, to realize that I am improving from a worse-off state. That what I am improving to is what most people would consider “lazying” bothers me only when I think about it in more intellectual terms, ignoring my emotional reaction to it.

I realize that my initial happiness is only dampened because I still compare my state to that of other healthy people my age. I compare it to what I used to be at one time, what I remember feeling like but haven’t felt like in a long time. But with a chronic condition like fibromyalgia, my world now spins at a different speed than it does for others my age, than it would have for me if I hadn’t developed this condition. It is not fair to compare apples to oranges.

I have learned to see that slowed spin rate on neutral terms — it has some good and some bad, just like there would have been had my world kept revolving faster. But sometimes I can’t help but feel that the existence of the difference itself is somehow mocking.

At one time, I thought I was closer to accepting my situation. And I was, but only under the circumstances I had grown comfortable in. As my circumstances changed, I realized I am on this journey anew.

Ever reaching for the light . . . thinking I feel its warmth . . . but then my world takes another spin, and I am back in the dim, reaching for the light again.

The painting in the featured image explores many of these emotions that expand through time and space. I am sure everyone has something they are struggling with, where they feel they are locked in a tunnel, and are forever reaching for the light. I think of that when I feel I am fighting an unfair battle, and try to not feel so alone in it. I try to think of the progress I am making, and remind myself to simply breathe.

Perhaps the important thing is not to win the battle, but simply to keep fighting it, and fighting it well. And all the while allowing yourself to feel the joy of small victories, however small they may be, just to feel like it’s not all in vain.

Love,

Fibronacci

 

Each painting has a story, one that I strive to tell here. Since many of them have to do with my journey with fibromyalgia, a fraction of the sales from my paintings will go to the American Fibromyalgia Syndrome Association (AFSA), who fund research into this poorly understood condition. If the paintings and/or the cause touch your heart, as they do mine, please feel free to contact me here or through my Facebook page for more information. Thank you for accompanying me on this journey!

Hitting the Reset Button in my Brain

I feel like the last flare kind of put me in a less-than-positive state of mind. Too many of my posts are talking about hardships of living with a chronic condition. While I don’t mean to shy away from being honest, and I don’t believe in deluding myself with positivity when things could obviously be better, I do believe that our state of mind can affect the state of our bodies. Letting out the frustration of a prolonged flare is helpful, but remaining in that angry, frustrated mode does no one any good.

So I have been on a journey to try and reset my mind to be a in a quieter, more peaceful place. I have had varying levels of success with the strategies I used, and I am sharing my thoughts on them here in case it can help someone else in a similar boat.

1. Take time by the moments instead of days.

The idea here is to just get through this moment in time and on to the next, and not think any further forward or backward. I try to keep busy at work, and ignore my body as much as I can. I have also taken to spending my evenings resting completely (unless I go for my pool exercise class). Sometimes I may play a crossword with my husband. We have fun, we goof off, we laugh when we make up silly words; I seem to relax. Throughout the day, I try to keep my focus mainly on the task at hand.

For the most part, this strategy works. When taking time moment to moment, I seem to be alright.

. . . But then a thought will pop up in my head about the next day that’s about to come, and I feel this dread. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I mind my job, I really like it in fact. What I dread is the struggle that going to sleep might prove to be, or the exhaustion when I wake again the next day, or the achiness, the tiredness, the tightness in my muscles that will aggravate me throughout the day. I dread that I will come back home, and rest, and feel better, and then my body will hit its reset button the next morning, and the whole thing will start all over again. Like an endless cycle of rest, pain and exhaustion.

Created with Microsoft Fresh Paint
Emptiness

Taking time in moments stops me from thinking in the fashion above, but it also makes time feel disconnected. I feel like, as people, we thrive on some sort of continuity. That’s why we created the construct of “time” in the first place. When you take life one piece at a time, it is an effective coping mechanism because it gets you through the day. But for me, at some point, every moment seems to run into another, and it becomes hard to see where I have been and where I am going.

So even though this method works, I realized that is like putting a band-aid on wound that needs stitches. It might make you feel better and hide it from sight, but it probably won’t solve the problem. But for problems that can’t be solved, like the one I currently have I guess, this is still a useful strategy.

2. Reframe your mind to think of what you can do.

This one is hard for me because I associate fibromyalgia with so much loss. But I think it is important to note that there is still a lot that I can do that I don’t always think about. I don’t think about it because I expect to be able to do more, so I care less about what I still can. But perhaps I should not take all that for granted.

Perhaps it worth noting that regardless of how bad I felt, I could still take care of my husband after his surgery. I could take care of our home while working at the same time. I can still work! As a scientist, no less! I can still plan for a future, perhaps a house, or a vacation. I am still able to spend some time with friends when I like. None of it is easy, but I am still doing it. Regardless of how much patience I lose with myself, I am still coping with whatever life throws at me.

IMG_2022 (3)
I am not just a a face in the crowd – I am still capable of hopes and dreams and accomplishments!

In a weird way, this makes me feel both proud and more confident, and also more humbled. Proud and confident that I am capable on taking on the current challenge. But also more humbled: just because you could do something, doesn’t mean that you should. I feel grateful that I didn’t collapse, only flared, when the workload soared. But at the first chance, I am also cutting back so as to not provoke providence by taking it for granted.

Altogether, I have found this to be a good exercise. When I feel poorly, my list is fairly short. But I try to add every mundane thing I could and try to convince myself to feel accomplished for being able to do it. It helps me feel like I have been somewhere, and can do some things, and can still plan for some kind of future.

3. Accept that it sucks.

Sometimes that’s all you can do. Just accept that this is a bad patch, and ride it out. No point in being angry about it or punishing yourself for what you cannot do. Do what you can to mitigate the flare, but recognize that sometimes it’s like the flu — you just have to wait it out. Admit the feelings and thoughts that invade the mind, find an acceptable outlet for them, and try to redirect them in more positive directions (see #1 and #2 for instance). Show yourself some compassion.

This one, for me, is by far the hardest, though I have been actively coaching myself for a while. I feel like I need to have the answers to all my problems. If I don’t have ready answers, I feel like I need to find them. But sometimes there is no answer. All you can do is accept this is how it is. Funny thing is, when I am able to do it, it brings me so much peace of mind! And yet I struggle with the idea that I am “giving in” to the flare. But it is not: I am still looking for ways to help myself feel better; I am just done fighting the the problem itself. The focus is now on me. Not the flare or the illness itself.

Created with Microsoft Fresh Paint
Peace

I have written extensively about acceptance before, and I will put the links below. It is probably the best way I have found of dealing with the emotional aspects of my condition. As you can see, however, it is not a goal you achieve and stay at. It’s a a never-ending journey on the road to peace.

Gentle hugs,

Fibronacci

 

READ MORE ON ACCEPTANCE:
Part I: A Lesson in Perspective and Acceptance
Part II: What is “Acceptance”?
Part III: How Acceptance can lead to Happiness
Part IV (A): Seeking a State of Acceptance 
Part IV (B): Fighting the Denial of a Chronic Illness

Weekly Photo Challenge: Silence

Silence is to be able to contemplate the small, the tiny, the insignificant, and find the image of its beauty within yourself.

As much as that sounds like a quote from somebody famously enlightened, that just came from me. And I absolutely refuse to carry on the internet tradition of assigning fake quotes to famous names.

Besides, I truly mean it.

I clicked that photo yesterday, just as the sun was coming up on a rare snowy day in the Deep American South. I was enchanted by that flock of clover sticking up from the snow, like nothing could keep it down. It was intent on being a bright burst of color in the white landscape.

There was nobody else out that early, with the temperature in the frigid lower teens (-10°C, for those unfamiliar with the Fahrenheit scale). It was quiet and beautiful. Peacefully serene. I could hear myself think, and that is always a good feeling.

Yesterday wasn’t a particularly great day for me. The cold and frequent fluctuations in the weather had me achy at best, and spasming at worst. But that moment of tranquility, as the sun came up and reflected its colors on the snow, was one to cherish.

That moment was my own bright burst of color for the day. I could feel its beauty and peace. It was my private escape into silence.

Love,

Fibronacci

Weathering the Daily Struggle

“There’s a lot going on right now.”

That’s been a common refrain for me since I started a new job and my husband had to have emergency knee surgery. I know it sounds like an excuse when I say that about why I don’t have time to read, or to paint, or hang out with friends. They probably think it is an excuse too. But the one who used to take care of everything else so I could work and pursue my hobbies is now severely limited in what he can do. So it’s all on me now. I just hope that whenever I say that, nobody asks me what exactly is “on me now.”

Because the truth is that there nothing going on with me right now that hasn’t been going on forever in everybody else’s lives. But with a chronic illness like fibromyalgia which limits my daily energy levels, those same daily activities feel like they are draining the life out of me, when for everybody else they’re just mildly annoying chores that they mostly don’t even think about.

To say that daily living chores and a fairly physically non-taxing job is wearing me out, I imagine is eliciting eye rolls right now. Like I should stop whining and suck it up at adulting. I am embarrassed to even admit it; it makes me feel weak and stupid. But it is also a frustrating reality I cannot escape.

For a while, I was taking care of my husband’s personal care routine when he was mostly bedridden. I will spare you the grisly details; suffice to say it was nothing physically taxing for a normal healthy person. He mostly took care of himself, all I had to do was arrange his things where he could reach them, and clean up after him. But now that he can hobble about the house, I don’t even have to do that. He’s even taken over meal preparations again, so we don’t have to eat like freshman undergrads anymore! (If you’re wondering about that last statement – I’m a foodie who doesn’t cook, and seriously lucked out with a husband worthy of chefhood!)

The rest of the “lot [that is] going on right now” is just everyday stuff that for most people is mindless living. I wake up early, limp to the kitchen for coffee and breakfast, I get dressed and work a full-time job. On the weekends I clean the house, do the laundry and get groceries for the week.

Nothing at all that seems out of the ordinary! Everybody I know does all of that and more, and still finds time for friends, books, hobbies, and exercise.

And yet yours truly collapses every day after work, unable to even consider going for the evening exercise class. I look forward to the weekend when I could rest. But even with my “tips and tricks” to ease my load, the weekends often end up being worse than the weekdays.

Laundry, house cleaning, dish washing, all take more arm and leg work than one might imagine. And I don’t even do a particularly thorough job of any of it. The walking and frequent bending/reaching during grocery shopping has always been hard for me. So we switched to online groceries that we now simply pick up at the store. But carrying those home, putting them up, all eat up pieces of my energy pie. Some activities eat a larger slice than others, and at the end of the day, I am barely left with crumbs.

So I am left weathered every night either passing out in exhaustion or unable to sleep because of the pain and discomfort. I am nearly continually in a flare these days, rendered functional only by virtue of tramadol. And a cold I fought for a week did nothing to help that situation.

I am also left cringing in shameful embarrassment at how far my life and fitness has fallen. For a long time it seems I had stopped thinking about how much fibromyalgia intruded into my daily life. When my husband took care of practically everything, and encouraged me to save all my energy for things that bring me meaning, peace and happiness, he did it all so apparently effortlessly! He never made me feel indebted for all that he does. Though I was always grateful, I now have a renewed level of appreciation for him and for everything he did. In doing them, he was saving me massive slices of my energy pie, because all those activities that are nothing for him are seriously draining for me. But most of all, I am grateful that he did all of that without making me feel any the less for not being able to be functional like a “normal” person.


I know this post ended up being something of a rant, but sometimes cheer takes too much effort. My hope is that this post sheds some light on what everyday life can be for someone with a chronic illness like fibromyalgia. And if you are a “healthy” reader who has an invisible illness warrior in the family, I hope this helps you understand what a struggle just everyday living can be for them, and why sometimes they are unable to partake in things that take no effort on your part.

The last few weeks with my husband’s immobilized leg haven’t been all bad however. There have been silver linings and moments of reflection. I promise to write more about them in a later post.

Love,

Fibronacci

What I Learned from my Leap of Faith

I ran, and I ran, and I ran, until I could run no more. I was at the edge of a cliff, and the only way forward was down. The waves roared below but I had no choice. Down, down, down I went. I felt the ocean breeze spray my face. Yet I did not hit the rocks. That’s when I realized, I could fly!


In fantasy terms, that largely summarizes the last year or so of my life. After struggling with a bad fibromyalgia flare all of my last semester at graduate school, I was at the end of my tether. I realized I needed to take a break before continuing on to any new work in order to prevent a complete collapse.

It was a tough decision for me at the time. It had been nearly a decade since I was on any vacation longer than a few weeks. I was concerned that while my body might feel better during a period of sustained rest, my brain would feel “wasted” without any brainy-work to do. At the same time, I was facing a lot of judgement from my professors who were not privy to my physical problems, and were convinced the break would ruin any prospects of a career. I was also worried that without something substantial to occupy my mind, I may be too focused on the pain and feel the worse for it.

Not knowing how I was going to react to an indefinite period of unemployment, it was largely taking a leap of faith. But as it turned out, most of my worries never came to pass. And in the process, I even learned a thing or two about myself!

So here are five things I learned about myself when I stepped off a ledge into the dreaded unknown:

1. I can actually enjoy taking a complete break from work for a while!

It certainly took a while — at first I was just very stressed about not having a career direction — but then slowly, I was able to embrace the lack of all absolute obligations, deadlines and requirements! Instead of feeling wasted, as I feared I would, I felt more open. Once I got comfortable with not having anything particular to do, I felt my brain slowly creep out of its “lefty” mode and start spreading its wings! I felt more creative and free, and thoughts and ideas flowed in and out of my mind more easily. I loved the peace and quiet, the serenity of the guilt-free time to think and write. Now that all of my energy wasn’t spent working, I had more energy for other things (like, as silly as this might sound, washing my hair!).

2. It is impossible for me to be bored.

I know when I first floated the idea of the break, many well-meaning people thought I might get bored. I wondered about it too. But as it turns out, my mind is too full of things to ever be bored! I always have something going on in there — perhaps a new idea for a painting, or a blog post, or even a future book! Most of the time my mind is full of reflective, meditative thoughts about both the world inside of me and that which surrounds me. My home is practically a library, so I always have a stack of books I am working through next to my bed. My capacity for imagination may be endless when I choose to engage in it. And I am surrounded by both instant access to knowledge (thanks to the internet) and a mind that voraciously craves new and varied information about a diverse set of topics. So, as I learned, it is impossible for me to get bored as I am engaged in too many activities at any one time, even if I don’t move a limb!

3. I can get too inward-focused for my own good.

Truth be told, given a choice of living in the “outer” world and the “inner” world, I would choose the “inner” one any day. And as I got all comfortable living in that “inner” world last few months, I realized that is also a problem. As someone who has always suffered from social anxiety, it has taken me years of practice at being around people to learn how to function properly in the world. It is never comfortable, but it is an important life skill. Yet now, I seem to be using fibromyalgia as an excuse to get more and more away from the outside world and turn back inwards. Without any definite obligations to attend to, I feel especially free now to just give in to the regular ups and downs of the condition, and just stay in and recoil into my own world even more. This can begin to feel too comfortable after a while, something which, ironically enough, makes me quite uncomfortable! So I learned that I need things that push me against my instincts and challenge me, so life stays fresh, interesting, and even a little challenging all the time!

(Besides, neck strain from too much reading is contributing to some killer headaches last couple of weeks, so it is clearly time I got out and did something else!)

4. I am more OK with leaping into the unknown than I had thought I was!

When I was first offered my current job with the state government, I was not sure about it at all. I was afraid it will take me too far away from biology proper. But ultimately, after a lot of deliberation on other potential options, I decided to take the plunge. One of the things that appealed to me about the job was that I knew nothing of the specifics of what I was about to do! That was a good thing, because I did not know enough to know what to be stressed about! And I realized that I love this feeling of the “beginner’s mind” that can only be accessed when exploring the complete unknown. This is how I felt when I first walked into the research lab as an undergraduate that I eventually graduated with a Ph.D. from! I knew nothing about doing science, so I was eager to learn all I could. With an open mind, I was able to think about what I was learning without the restrictions that come with expertise. It was a feeling of freedom, of possibilities, of growth, and of accumulating life experiences — all of which I dearly cherish. Now I feel ready to inhabit the “beginner’s mind” once more. I have no real clue where this unexpected path will take me in the future, but I am in for the ride with an open mind.

5. I was ready for a major change.

After spending several years working as a bench biologist in academia, I will be a data scientist for a government agency. That is about as different as different can get, and I remain surprised the opportunity even came by me! But, I feel ready for it. I feel I am too young to cage myself into a narrow realm of possibilities. I had stayed long enough in academia to recognize the good, the bad and the ugly in it. It was time for me to explore a different setting now, a different field. My interests are too widespread to be constrained into the narrow niche that a standard academic career demands. So if I am going to play outside of the academic playbook, I would have to create my own paths into a non-standard career. I feel like this job out in left field is the first step in that direction.


For a fiercely analytical person, who likes to weigh the pros and cons of everything, taking a leap of faith can be very difficult. This was especially true of me in the case of my break from employment, because it conventionally bodes ill so early in one’s career. But at the time I had few other choices, and luckily, everything turned out just fine in the end! Plus I really appreciated having the time to exclusively manage the nasty flares that have gripped me most of this year. So I wanted to write this post not just as a future reminder to myself to not be so afraid of doing the crazy “unthinkable” thing, but also as an encouragement to anyone else who may be in a similar spot as I was back then.

If you’re feeling iffy about the jump but it’s edge of your cliff, close your eyes, and trust your wings.

Love,

Fibronacci

Weekly Photo Challenge: Transformation

Chronic illness transforms us in many ways. For thanksgiving, I chose to focus on the good ways that Fibromyalgia has transformed me, as I reminisced about my life in general.

Just a few years ago, I was a high-energy person with no time nor thought for anything but to get ahead in the world. Yet now, I am a much calmer, more “centered” soul who is reconnecting with her old timey loves.

Autumn
By letting go of the old, we gain the opportunity to transform into something new — and beautiful!

Until I came down with fibro, it had been years since I had read purely for pleasure, though reading used to be my favorite hobby through much of my childhood! Always an inward-leaning and introspective child at my core, I incorporated my thoughts and feelings into my art (I did watercolors back then) as well as the poetry and fiction I would write for myself.

Later in middle school, I was the student reporter for the school-beat of the local daily, and contributed towards the school magazine in high school. I remember a particular editorial I once wrote about anxiety, depression and suicidal thoughts among students, and how the current education system in my country handled the issue poorly, not to mention the social taboo it was to even talk about it!

I lost touch with all of that once I got into college. Perhaps because of various new stresses and changes in my life at the time, I transformed into a much more “outward”-oriented person. I wanted to make the most of my experience in a new country, new environment; I wanted to soak up all the opportunities I suddenly had which I couldn’t have dreamed of before! Always an ambitious person, I finally saw the roads which could lead me to the success I sought! My definition of success was complicated; it definitely included job satisfaction and doing what I loved, but I also wanted money, position, autonomy, and a certain rank in the hierarchy of society. And I was going to work hard to make sure I did not waste the chances I was granted to attain it.

Though I am glad I got to chase my dreams and live that fast-paced life for several years, I am equally glad for being able to slow down as I developed fibromyalgia. Now I am finally able to reconnect with the pleasures of my childhood:

I am finally able to enjoy quiet moments reading at my leisure, or lost in thought as I write just for pleasure. I learned to paint in oils (one of my childhood dreams), and express my emotions through my paintings. (And that little rhyme was a nod to my childhood poetic musings, though I do little of that now.)

I am glad that even when I am stuck in bed, I can now find joy just watching the golden sunlight dancing on my walls, making patterns as the light passes through the blinds or filtered through the warm, fall-colored, translucent curtains.

I am glad that I am now able to delve more into photography and art, as I had always hoped to do more with those! There is something flighty and fun about stopping the car at random places to photograph a particularly beautiful purple leaf. Or simply walking around the park and admiring how the leaves on the shade-side of the maple turned red, but the light-side remained green. Or just finding a sudden glimmer of magic as the sunshine gleams through some colored leaves!

I gained all this and more as I let go of the person that I was before fibro!

And I am grateful for the opportunity to find a more authentic person hidden inside me, who is encouraged everyday to live a more authentic life, and all because of fibro!

Love,

Fibronacci

Temporary yet Timeless

Though I like having nice things as much as the next person, I have to admit that I am more of a sucker for experiences.

While material objects you acquire may be permanent (in the practical sense of the word), it is human nature to slowly just get used to its presence and take it for granted. And then that grand old antique grandfather clock you coveted forever until you found it on a killer deal loses its appeal, and its ability to make you happy.  Even worse, acquired things may only be temporary (like money), in which case the happiness they bring is doubly short-lived and may even be followed by some misery!

Experiences, however, are usually by nature temporary — and yet, they are timeless! Think back to a wonderful family vacation, or a funny incident that happened to you, or even a particularly interesting class you took or a memorable event you participated in. Think back to a time when you learned something new, or saw something in new light, gained a different perspective, or found a new way of looking at things which you had never considered before. Chances are, simply thinking back to the family vacation brought an image to your mind, or remembering that funny incident made you chuckle. All of these experiences were in the past, their time come and gone, activities done and over with. And yet, you carry some essence of them with you forever!

Experiences, unlike physical objects, also have the potential to teach you things and promote self-growth. This is perhaps almost more true of unpleasant experiences than pleasant ones, a chronic illness for example. I remember in Michael J. Fox’s autobiography, Lucky Man, he said getting Parkinson’s disease was one of the best things that happened to him. Until I gained some acceptance of fibromyalgia, I could never have understood what he meant. But even in dealing with what has been a far less debilitating experience than Parkinson’s, I have learned and grown so much that I am kind of glad it happened to me. Sounds strange, doesn’t it, given how much I gripe about it? But I feel like the griping and then getting over it is all a part of the experience too!

Particularly, the experience of going through a competitive grad program with FM has taught me an important lesson in life. That regardless of what others say, think or do, you’ve got to be true to yourself! Your self-worth cannot hinge on others’ (negative) evaluation of you. You cannot educate everybody, not even when you talk the science behind your condition to scientists. When you feel alone, instead of feeling dejected and lonely, use that space to spread your wings and find your own flight. Do not feel guilty if you choose to use a particularly good day to turn your back on the world and enjoy it simply for yourself! There are too few of those in our lives to waste them on others’ expectations of how you should be spending them, rather than how you want to be spending them.

Perhaps all these thoughts combined made me particularly fond of the featured image, which I clicked on a recent trip to the local zoo. Here’s a pelican who doesn’t give a hoot about the world, he’s without a care except to just make the most of a beautiful day! The photo, a bit overexposed, is perhaps technically flawed, but you can really feel the sun on his back, the splash of the cool water, and his ecstasy of motion.

It is a reminder to live life unabashed and cherish small moments of pleasure.

A reminder to not let imperfections tarnish the timeless beauty of the experiences.

Love,

Fibronacci

The Glow of a New Hope: Redirecting Career Possibilities as a Scientist with Fibromyalgia

I love painting sunsets.

Aside from the fact that they are simply gorgeous, the glowing light also signifies a lot of hope for me. First, the warm colors in the light of the setting sun has a psychologically uplifting effect. And second, on a more philosophical level, sunsets signify a state of transition, where you are standing at the threshold between the old and the new. A state of liminality. The very nature of the sunset marks the end of an old, and therefore by extension, the beginning of something new! It’s a beautiful close to what once was, and invites you to think of what the future will bring.

Featured image: Twilight’s Last Glow (oil on 6X6 canvas; available)

It was about 7 years ago that I first got into academic research as a career. The field of epigenetics fascinated me: it is the study of the various modifications on our genetic material that fine-tune how the genes actually behave. If you think of the DNA code as just the lyrics to a song, then the epigenetic modifications provide the tune, so you can actually sing the song. I was enthused enough to learn more about the subject so that I joined a research lab that studies the same. Over the next 7 years in that lab, I first completed an undergraduate honors thesis, and then a Ph.D. dissertation.

Epigenetics
A conductor wouldn’t know how to direct the opera with just the libretto (the genes), s/he would also need the accompanying musical notation (the epigenetic marks).

All that time I was on a single-lane, yellow brick road to become a tenured academic professor in Oz. I worked hard since the junior year of undergrad, often working long hours without pay, paying all the seemingly appropriate dues for a supposedly cushy future. But I was devoted to the deity called “science.” I knew the sacrifices I would have to make to reach my goal, and I was ready for it. At the time I felt like that was really what I wanted of my life. And besides, it wouldn’t matter if I did not – I was conditioned to think that that was the only road possible for me after a Ph.D.

Yellow brick road
The yellow brick road to the ivory (emerald?) tower!

So then when I was struck with fibromyalgia, about halfway through graduate school, perhaps you can imagine my state of mind when I felt my dreams had just gone up in smoke. I felt I was now trapped into this very narrow specialized field, educated beyond most jobs, with a medical roadblock in the only credible path to a bright future. In addition, it certainly did not help that my advisor, who had high hopes for me, now thought that I was a lost cause. He had no reasonable advice for me other than to “just deal with it.”

I have now spent upwards of 2 years trying to get out of the dark mindset that my professional life is ruined because I am no longer able to spend 60-80 hours per week working any ol’ time of the day. It has taken a lot of career research, reading other peoples’ experiences of life after academia, and talking to people who were more supportive of my seeking “alternative” routes, to really figure out new possible directions for myself. More than anything else, it has required me to shake off the chains I had put around my own expectations of my future. I had to do some serious soul-searching about what I truly enjoyed about my job, in order to figure out how I could continue engaging in that, in a way that is not so detrimental to my health.

recycled-art
Reimagine the possibilities!

The result has been a liberating feeling that I have a lot more paths to choose from than what I was initially led to believe. I just spent the last year or so considering traditional postdoctoral research appointments, along with “non-traditional” post-Ph.D. options like teaching, as well as jobs in science publishing, government, and clinical laboratories. Some of these are more directly connected with the topic of my graduate training (molecular genetics/epigenetics) than others, but I was not shy about looking into related but different fields like human genetics, environmental health, public health and policy, and forensic science. I even considered options that would require further schooling, such as genetic counseling and molecular epidemiology.

Not all has been bright and sparkly, though, as I sought out new potential directions for myself. I learned that it can be incredibly hard to budge even a tiny bit from your field of specialization, especially after a doctorate. At the same time, I also received enough positive responses to have faith that difficult though it may be, it is not totally impossible! However, it does require you to be honest with yourself about your priorities (both professionally and personally), and keep realistic expectations of your job search. It is possible to carve out a new fork in the road for yourself, but it takes time, perseverance, and a healthy dose of luck.

Despite it not being all glowy, I nonetheless feel like this period of transition after graduate school is like a sunset. It is a time to reminisce about the past as one chapter in my life comes to a close, and to contemplate what new experiences the next one will bring. Nobody knows what tomorrow holds; but for now, as I stand on this threshold, the possibilities are endless!

Love,

Fibronacci

 

Each painting has a story, one that I strive to tell here. Since many of them have to do with my journey with fibromyalgia, 20% of all yearly sales income from my paintings will go to the American Fibromyalgia Syndrome Association (AFSA), who fund research into this poorly understood condition. If the paintings and/or the cause touch your heart, as they do mine, please feel free to contact me through my Facebook page for more information. Thank you for accompanying me on this journey!

In the Grand Scale of Things

The title is a bit tongue in cheek today because the little wildflowers are anything but “grand” in scale! But these tiny flower bouquets, that seem to crop up out of nowhere, add a lovely bit of color to the woods and can be such a joy to ponder. They can feel grand in essence despite their diminutive physical presence.

These little yellow flowers are abound during the spring season in a swampy wooded area I like to walk in whenever the weather isn’t oppressively hot. That isn’t very much of the year when one lives in the sub-tropics, so I really have to make the most of the time I have! That they are spring flowers should be no surprise given their bright as sun yellow color.

I find it sad how most people walk past these little beauties without a thought, only to behold the tall, defiant cypresses that grow in the same area. The latter are majestic and worthy of looking up to (and I mean literally, for these trees can be really tall), but in many ways, I prefer the delicateness of the former. The flowers just feel “happier” to me somehow.

IMG_0240
Do you see that little fuzzy ball on the bottom right? I’ve no clue what it is but it’s so cute!

That is so much of life, isn’t it? Especially with a chronic illness. When the good days are few and far apart, we try to make the most of what we’ve got. When the big goals seem too far beyond reach, we focus on the smaller ones. We learn to find joy in the smallest of things.

It sounds like a compromise, and everyone makes some compromises in life at some point or another. But when you’re young, you face judgement from ignorant faces, who are not intimate with your trials, but who feel you have made that compromise too soon in life. You’re left to wonder if you are getting “too comfortable too early” (in my Ph.D. advisor’s words) too close to the ground.

Or is it simply that you have realized that the things that mean the most to you are exactly where you are. That true happiness really is in the smallest, the most seemingly insignificant of things. And that when we reach for the heights, it is usually only to attain something of an illusion – an illusion of power, of respectability, of security. And during that process, as we are looking up at the heights, like that of the cypresses, we miss all the joyful little wildflowers that beckon to us from down below.

In a quiet, meditative moment, it may be wise to wonder: In the grand scale of things, which one matters more?

In the last few weeks, I have gone through another round internal conflict in trying to balance the part of me that wants to reach for the heights, and the part of me that sees sense in drawing the energy from the wildflowers. I concluded that the little joys of the present outweigh the potential of illusory powers in the future. While it is true that I would find much joy in making the best use of my scientific training to benefit society, I had to admit in a moment of honesty, that I would find more joy in not feeling like absolute crap while doing it! This meant finding a line of work that may be “closer to the ground” but more in line with my priorities.

None of this is to say I still don’t have that ambitious spark which would like to see me accomplish big, important things in life. But for now, I feel like just getting through my new exercise routine, without the excess fatigue grounding me in bed for the next several days, would be accomplishment enough for me!

Gentle hugs,

Fibronacci