I’ve now taken 30 days off work. It’s the first time in my adult life that I’ve ever taken a vacation that lasted more than 10 days. Most of my time off have been for the year-end holidays, usually still hectic, and all the time never enough.
Some trauma and burnout
The past few years have been tough on me. For my tenure track position, I moved to a new city where I had no family, no close friends, or colleagues, just as the pandemic was starting. Living abroad, with Japan’s borders essentially closed, starting a new job in a new place was less than ideal, to say the least. I was fortunate to be healthy, and even though communications were virtual (Zoom, Viber, Facebook Messenger, LINE to the rescue), I had my family and friends to lean on. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for anybody.
In 2022, after feeling trapped for over two years, I was able to go home to the Philippines. I had also just ended a long term relationship. And instead of spending time back home, I had to cut my trip short because I was attending a conference in the Netherlands — my first in-person conference in a long while. The “first” travels felt strange and precious, straddling between strange and familiar. Today in 2023, a new normal evolved, and I find myself still recovering from it all — the collective trauma of the pandemic, my relationship ending, the isolation from family and friends, and my burning out and falling out with academia.
Recovering Across the Sea
I’m currently using up my vacation days. I flew to California to spend time with my partner, who lives an ocean away. During my time away, I opened my work inbox only once (it’s caused me much anxiety in the past, and while I’ve been doing better, it’s still something I’d rather avoid). I’ve been playing tourist/homebody, meeting up with friends, taking my plastic film cameras around and continuing my data science course.
For my mental health, I signed up to be a freelancer (work pays peanuts). What this did is make me feel like I’m actually still a productive member of society outside the walls of the Ivory Tower (academia). The work I do amounts to nowhere near a living wage, but it does give me a sense of structure. And I also brought a small succulent to keep me company when my partner is at work.
Anxiety for the “real world”
A week ago, we drove to Berkeley to see a Weezer concert at the Greek Theater. On the freeway, I’d see names of universities or research facilities and wince. It felt like running into someone you had an awkward date with from a lifetime ago, and all you wanted to do was run away. So I’m guessing I still need more time before I get over some of these feelings.
The physical distance, and the complete disconnect from work is absolute bliss. I feel relieved, relaxed, and happy. But, as my summer break is coming to a close, I have to fly back to my own apartment, alone, in the same space where I’ve experienced all of the difficult times the past few years have brought. I have been working on purging that space – welcoming in good energy via good company, and working on my own emotional, physical and mental recovery.
Next career? Baby steps..
In the book Leaving Academia by Christopher L. Caterine, Chapter 3 is called “Discover”. It talks about how to explore different industries and lines of work to see if these are good fits. One method to do this is through “informational interviews” which involves reaching out to people and asking them about their work. These interviews are not about knocking on peoples doors asking for jobs, but rather, to get information on their roles, functions and industries (as the name explicitly says). This summer, I reached out to a Data Scientist who successfully left academia and switch careers. I listened to their story and jotted down their advice on the first few steps I can take should I want to take that path.
What’s next?
The 30 days didn’t go by too fast, but I want another 30 that are just like them, and then another 30 more…
When my actual retirement begins, I’m anticipating the same feelings to bubble up again – fear and relief, but hopefully with less and less intensity. Until then, I’ll keep on keeping on.
-Jess
Jess is on Break 