I had so many potential titles for this post, but I settled for John Assaraf’s precept of the comfort zone! Some of the quotes that sounded very applicable were:
You can’t pour from an empty cup.
You can’t give what you don’t have.
Look out for number one.
So it happened that in 2024 I lost two elder sisters in a space of six months. To say it was the most life shattering experience would be an understatement. My reaction to the passing of the second sister paralysed me into a state of denial. I could not access my emotions. I kept the sad news to myself and only got to tell my supervisors at our scheduled meeting, and the bewilderment was immense. I think I managed to get a proper breakdown at that meeting.
I don’t think we even proceeded with the agenda. Frankly I can’t remember much besides conversations about going back to therapy. I had ruled this out, or maybe I just didn’t consider it because I was numb. I bet my supervisor could see the reluctance on my face. Truth be told, it can be exhausting to be a bearer of sob stories. A little while after our meeting I realised I had missed a call, that I did not bother to return. When I got home and checked my email because I was preparing for a speaking engagement at The University of Melbourne in a few days, there was an email from the wellbeing office. It was a follow-up to the call I had missed. Clearly my supervisor called the wellbeing office immediately after our meeting and told them I was an emergency case. Lolest. Now I can laugh about this.
In a bid to show me how critical it was to check in with student support and have my personal circumstances documented, Dr Joss explained…
“A PhD is hard. People collapse sometimes just before reaching the finish line and they are given extensions. This is not even in situations where there were any extenuating circumstances. With your situation, you might need more time and recording your personal circumstances will be necessary.” I kept on nodding amid the sobs. Well, I did respond to the email from wellbeing office, and we scheduled for a counselling session. The officer wanted us to have a zoom session that very day, but I just explained to her I had cried enough for the day.
Grief is a life-shattering event. The acceptance of permanent loss is epitomised by fatigue, hopelessness, mental blocks, panic attacks. Grief is also a process of self-discovery. Focusing on self. Renewed perspective about how to spend time with the people we love. People and things will not always be available, so make meaningful, intentional decisions to do what really brings you peace and joy. Love your family and let them know. Grief is a constant shift between sobs and smiley face or laughter and it’s not even a bipolar episode, it is going with the flow and honouring your emotions.
Let’s talk about the healing process. On the day from the meeting referred to above, I took one of my regular routes to the bus stop. My alternative routes involve a walk through, around or into Eldon Square, and this time around I walked through. I thought I knew the shopping centre like the back of my hand until that day! I won’t say to my surprise, but I got lost twice. And on the frantic search for an exit, I found myself facing a flight of stairs. It was the image on the wall and the accompanying text that grabbed my attention. “Life is a roller coaster. Live it, enjoy it, roll with it.” I certainly was rolling with it. On the next level was another picture and text read “Sometimes you get unexpected twists and turns!” I felt a lump in my throat and my eyes got warm at the thought that I didn’t need all this at that moment: getting lost and all the reminders that life can be hell. My experience was enough. By the end of that day something in me had shifted. There was some bit of acceptance and a corresponding amount of relief. Let’s agree the universe has a way of making us pause and immerse in the goings on of our lives.
Healing requires letting go of rigid plans and honouring the fragile state of wellbeing. One of the things I did was exercise flexibility by making adjustments around working hours. At first this was accompanied by guilt. But over time I realised I felt less anxious when I listening to the body more and allowed it to dictate things like when to take a break. Selfcare routines also changed form. I took unscheduled showers whenever I felt exhausted because I felt more relaxed afterwards. So, the usual morning and evening bath times were abandoned for a while. This was not the time to stick to patterns, but to do what felt manageable, and being gracious to self.
Now this! For the first time I got to understand trauma. During one of the therapy sessions I was asked if there was anything exciting to do in the near future and whether I was looking forward to it. Wait. Let me share this insight first. The first things therapists do is rule out suicide. There is a list of questions that are asked in quick succession, and the patient is not even allowed to ask for clarification lest they use the space to evade the actual response they want to give. The rules are that strict. But this does not end after the first session. They keep dropping questions to check if we have the desire to live. I totally get it, especially as an international student, away from my support structure and culture. Back to the question about an exciting event. My birthday was coming in a few weeks. In my response the therapist picked my fear. . Her statement sounded like a ruthless, farfetched truth… “now that is trauma” she said. And there was silence. She was right. That conversation just messed with my mind and emotions. The water works followed. I had to accept the reality that I was afraid to acknowledge and embrace happy moments, because I thought they could be followed by another unfortunate event. Now that is trauma.
Strength and vulnerability are not binaries
Redefining strength entails embracing vulnerability. Asking for and accepting help. This was the hardest thing for me because all my life I had been the one to provide support in many respects. This time around I was so exhausted I did not have the energy to refuse offers like can I bring you a meal. Just give me a shout when you need to talk. Are you able to read, anything that is not thesis related? Please read this book. It turned out to be my companion and distraction: ‘The Kamogawa Food Detectives‘. It was gesture of support from Jenny, one of my colleagues. In the healing process we keep throwing away one badge of strength at a time because we are just tired of being strong. And then we have to go looking for the badge again because strength is just what we need. I always remember the words of my counsellor during my fertility treatment at The Centre for Advanced Medicine. ‘Being strong can also be draining, it takes effort’.
Healing felt like finding the switch in a dark room and realising that we can experience the joy even during the storm. I started accepting invitations to meet over coffee. I avoided alcohol at all costs. I broke the alcohol curfew at a friend’s wedding in Edinburgh. There was bottomless prosecco! I did have fun. There was another wedding in Newcastle a week later. Loads of fun and laughter. No feelings of betraying the period of mourning. But this did not come easy.
Back to the text at the staircase, where I ended up when I got lost. Sometimes we have to lose ourselves for us to discover who we are. Looking on the bright side, doing a PhD is an enjoyable experience. A privilege. A worthwhile investment on self and a journey of self-discovery. It is a journey of resilience, and one needs to celebrate the journey, not just the milestones or achievements. But I also achieved a lot even with the disruptions. Initially I hated the fact that I was in a foreign country. I thought of quitting and I am so glad I persevered.
How I achieved some of the biggest goals in my studies, personal and professional development in that same year, will remain a mystery. I am not even going to try and solve it. But on a surface level I am tempted to believe this was a typical case of the adage ‘a comfort zone is a beautiful place, but nothing grows there’. John Assaraf
Our personal experiences always give hope to someone somewhere. Part of my healing came from online communities where people shared their traumatic experiences and tips on how they survived and came out stronger on the other side. Let’s hear your story!
Happy reading.
Edusphere-By-Bassie 