When people think of someone pursuing a PhD, they often focus on the prestige and intellectual fulfilment associated with earning the degree. For the students themselves, however, the journey is frequently remembered as a continuous obstacle course, with many never reaching the end. Statistics underscore this reality, with studies suggesting that 33% to 70% of PhD students ultimately leave before completing their program. A recent paper in Frontiers of Psychology enlists the various factors that contribute to these outcomes, leading to notable differences across institutions and countries. The academic culture in the nation of study and more specifically the institution plays a significant role in determining the work environment. Additionally, the quality of mentorship, the complexity of the research project, and the stability of funding are all pivotal. Combined, these factors result in the fact that even for those who do complete their PhD, the process often takes much longer than anticipated.

Like most students, I commenced my PhD program without much idea of what was to come. I worked in an experimental lab at a premiere research institution in India. My work was in Raman spectroscopy, and I was also regularly using diamond anvil cells (which press two diamonds against each other to create extremely high pressures). These systems needed delicate touch and complete attention for successful experiments. A mistake on my part could not only waste institutional resources but also cost my lab mates many hours of their work, as we shared the lab instruments. There have been multiple roadblocks on the way including two years of the pandemic, flooding of the lab, and equipment failures, among others. However, the biggest challenge I had to face was tackling my mental health problems. 

The Complex Pressures of Pursuing a PhD

PhD programs are emotionally taxing, with several factors contributing to heightened anxiety among students. A 2019 article by Marta Oliveira and Laura Breimann argues that the major challenge lies in transitioning from a structured, grade-based education to the uncertain terrain of research. Unlike the predictable outcomes of coursework, research is fraught with ambiguity, where failed experiments and disproven hypotheses are common. This unpredictability, coupled with the pressure to produce groundbreaking results, often fosters imposter syndrome, leaving students doubting their abilities despite their accomplishments.

The solitary nature of research intensifies this strain. Many PhD candidates work independently on highly specialized topics, which can lead to isolation and an overwhelming sense of accountability. A Nature news feature from 2024 highlights the financial insecurity that adds another layer of stress. The stipends or grants, if available, often fall short of covering the expenses of an adult’s life. Balancing the demands of being both a student and an adult is particularly exhausting. The reasons for my anxieties were not very different, and they were further compounded by personal challenges, creating a whirlwind of confusion and fatigue.

Recent studies have highlighted the prevalence of mental health issues among PhD students in India at various institutions. Economic background, proficiency in the common language (such as English in India), caste, gender, and other factors play a critical role in shaping experiences within these academic spaces, which are meant to be equally inclusive for all students. Despite the alarming statistics on the rising mental health issues among students, mental health remains a stigmatized topic in India, with many denying its significance. The limited availability of mental health resources according to the National Mental Health Survey further hampers support systems. Thus, open discussions about mental health struggles are imperative in the academic community in India and beyond.

Panic and Anxiety Disorder in an Experimental Lab

My journey with anxiety began subtly, manifesting as mild sleep issues, mood swings, and a constant undercurrent of restlessness. These symptoms, though not debilitating, went undiagnosed for a long time. As responsibilities increased and the seriousness of my work became clearer, these feelings grew more intense. Relationship struggles during this period acted as a catalyst, culminating in the onset of panic attacks.

The first panic episode caught me off guard. I experienced breathlessness, brain fog, uncontrollable shivering, vomiting, extreme fatigue, and eventually lost consciousness. At the time, I thought it was a respiratory issue and was rushed to the hospital as an emergency. It was only after medical evaluation that I was diagnosed with panic attacks – a realization that brought relief in understanding what was happening but also added a layer of worry about managing my anxiety.

These episodes severely impacted my work in the lab, where precision and focus were critical. Experiments requiring meticulous handling became daunting, and I developed a crippling fear of making mistakes. Drawing conclusions or making decisions during experiments felt insurmountable. The fear of another attack meant I could not be alone in the lab, leading to reliance on others. Traveling for experiments became another challenge, adding to the guilt of feeling I wasn’t doing enough. The constant struggle to balance health and work left me feeling trapped in a cycle of anxiety and self-doubt.

The Power of Peer Support in Academia

The most valuable sources of support came from my peers, particularly my lab mates. They were the ones who truly understood the challenges I faced on a daily basis, from the pressures of experiments to the mental toll of research. Having others to talk to, share experiences with, and offer advice helped me cope with the stresses of academia. Through discussions, consultations, and mutual support, we were able to navigate the complexities of our work and grow together. This sense of shared experience and support was essential to my mental well-being during my PhD.

Peer support in academia, particularly in higher education and research, is vital for alleviating anxiety and stress. Even in the absence of formal mechanisms like peer learning programs, informal support naturally emerges within communities. These peer groups, while not perfect, work wonders in fostering social connections and alleviating isolation, as individuals with shared experiences come together to support one another. 

The support system I had around me played the most critical role in my healing and moving forward. I was blessed to have friends, family, lab mates, and a guide who were all incredibly understanding and empathetic. Friends went out of their way to ensure I wasn’t alone, booking doctor’s appointments, bringing medicines and food, taking me for walks, and staying by my side through every panic attack. My lab mates made sure I was never alone in the lab, helping me feel safe and supported. My professor’s encouragement to take time off and work at a pace that suited my recovery lifted a significant burden of expectation, allowing me to focus on getting better.

Strategies That Helped Me Overcome Anxiety 

Overcoming anxiety and reaching the finish line involved a blend of support, self-care, and gradual changes in how I approached both work and life. Therapy and medication were vital, although it took time to find what worked for me. Friends encouraged me to keep trying when I felt like giving up, and once I found the right combination of medication, it helped me open up and manage my anxiety more effectively. Incorporating creative outlets and physical well-being into my routine was transformative. Painting, a suggestion from my therapist, became an unexpected source of joy and confidence, allowing me to explore new interests. Yoga and breathing techniques like square breathing proved invaluable during moments of anxiety. Journaling has become another essential tool, offering a space to process my thoughts, track my progress, and forgive myself.

I picked up the pace of work after almost six months. Returning to the lab wasn’t easy, but consistent and open work discussions with peers became a cornerstone of my recovery. I even asked those I interacted with daily to remind me to take deep breaths when I seemed tense. These interactions – along with the break – helped me declutter my thoughts and refocus on what needed to be done and move forward. This process restored my confidence and gave me a renewed sense of independence. 

Practical changes in my work habits also made a significant difference. I began setting manageable daily to-do lists, which helped me stay efficient without overburdening myself. Spending weekends outside the lab provided much-needed refreshment, making me more focused and productive during the week. It is important to mention the unwavering support and understanding of my mentor, who reminded me through the phases of self-doubt that prioritising health is always okay and is never a waste of time.

Conclusion

PhD programs, often seen as prestigious and intellectually rewarding, can be emotionally taxing, marked by uncertainty, isolation, and financial strain. Personal challenges and societal stigmas around mental health exacerbate these struggles, particularly in countries like India, where resources are scarce. I write this blog with the belief that openly sharing personal experiences and coping strategies is crucial for breaking the silence around mental health. Doing so helps incoming students gain a realistic perspective of the challenges of a PhD and contributes to building a more inclusive academic environment.

Peer support plays a pivotal role in reducing stress and anxiety, with shared experiences among colleagues providing both comfort and practical assistance. To nurture this environment, institutions and governments must prioritize formal initiatives like peer mentoring and counselling programs, while students themselves should actively cultivate supportive networks. Equally important is the encouragement and support of institutions and professors, which empowers students to seek help without fear or stigma.  

My own journey taught me the importance of seeking support, making small but meaningful changes, and allowing myself time to heal. By integrating a culture of empathy and collaboration into educational systems, academia can foster a healthier, more connected environment for all. A cultural shift from competition to collaboration is crucial in academia, particularly in fields like scientific research, where progress relies on collective achievements.

Janaky Sunil is a scientist and writer with expertise in spectroscopy, X-ray diffraction, and material science. She earned her PhD from JNCASR Bangalore and has worked at IIT Madras and Carnegie Institution of Science. Janaky is passionate about interdisciplinary thinking, particularly at the intersections of education, mental health, ethics in scientific research, and the politics and philosophy of science. Currently a freelance science writer, she combines her research background with clear, impactful communication. Outside her professional pursuits, Janaky explores fiction writing, painting, and music, reflecting her broad intellectual and creative interests.

This blog is kindly sponsored by G-Research