The Mask by Anonymous

I am a flawed, ambitious, and entirely ordinary human who wears a mask daily at work. 

I put the mask on as I get into my car to drive to work or social engagements, and I take it off as I walk through the front door of my home. It is not a deliberate costume that I don and remove, akin to a Jane Austen period drama. Instead, it is a learned psychological survival mechanism that I have been employing for as long as I can remember, to the extent that I have lost track of when it is on, its appearance, or its functionality. It has become an integral part of my being. 

I am neurodivergent, I have Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD), and I have a life-limiting, incurable autoimmune illness. Very few people know this because I wear a mask of a neurotypical, mentally and physically healthy person. 

And it’s exhausting. 

The mask saps my energy, my spirit, my cognitive processing ability. 

Unlike the notion of “I need a nap,” which may seem relatively manageable, the exhaustion experienced when one has depleted all cognitive space to engage in conversations with one’s spouse and child at the end of the day feels more profound. In this blog I’ll talk about my experiences living with these illnesses and their impact on my life and career to date.

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Considerations and Challenges of Overseas Research Visits: My Experience as an Autistic Woman by Lucy Rodgers

I recently had the privilege of being funded to travel overseas (UK to Australia) to visit a leading academic in my field. I am sharing my experience with you because I am an internally presenting autistic woman (the kind often subjected to the “but you don’t seem autistic” comments). Perhaps because of how I appear, it might be assumed that travelling across continents to a completely new environment, solo, would be no less challenging for me than for a neurotypical person. Autism is not a mental illness, but I experience generalised anxiety in response to trying to fit into a hectic, unpredictable world, which is incompatible with my brain.

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Breaking Barriers: My Higher Education Journey as a Disabled and Neurodivergent Student by Alexandra Wilson-Newman 

Navigating higher education (HE) is difficult for any student, but for those who don’t fit the traditional mould – whether due to neurodivergence, disability, other protected characteristics or any combination of the above – the journey is fraught with additional obstacles. These obstacles shape our academic and personal lives in ways that are often hard to fully grasp if you don’t share some of those characteristics.

My own story, complete with an autism diagnosis just before adulthood, and the onset of a debilitating chronic pain condition, has been one of resilience, discovery and advocacy. As I’ve moved through the world of HE, I’ve seen first-hand how systemic barriers can hinder progress and damage wellbeing. That said, I’ve seen how these challenges can be a catalyst to drive change for those too stubborn to accept systemic barriers preventing people from reaching their full potential. This is not just a recounting of my story so far, but a call-to-action for a more inclusive and compassionate educational environment for all. 

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You Can’t Outwork Your ADHD by Anonymous

When in doubt, just work harder – until you no longer can. 

I always thought that work ethic is one thing nobody could take away from me. In graduate school, I admired people – especially women, particularly mothers – who could work reasonable hours and somehow finish their bench work, keep up with current literature, and submit grant applications on time. Meanwhile, I never stopped working, yet everything would be done at the very last minute. Yes, I was bad at time management, constantly making mistakes that forced me to second-guess experimental results. I could, nonetheless, work anyone under the table with my ability to keep going at all hours, all days, with no vacations, no weekends. Academia certainly encouraged it. Senior academics would praise my hard work, marvel at my multitasking skills, at my cheerful spirit. However, those very efficient women whom I admired would frequently ask, “How are you not burned out? How are you holding up?” I would deflect, laugh it off, make a self-deprecating joke. In my own mind, I knew that it was not a sustainable work style. However, the discovery of new data – that moment when you turn on the microscope at the end of a long experiment and see the confirmation of your hypothesis in glorious multicolor – got me through many periods of disinterest and boredom caused by the relentless tedium of everyday bench work.

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The perfect researcher (and why I am not it) by Zoë Ayres

Just another typical PhD day for me. Highlighting another research paper, trying desperately to retain the salient bits. Mixing it up with different coloured highlighters. Grabbing a cup of coffee, hoping that the information might go in if I let the caffeine sink in. And yet it never quite does. I beat myself up, telling myself I am too stupid to do a PhD. Walking away from a meeting, I feel ashamed, as I know I read the paper that was being discussed, I just can’t quite recall the details. Rinse and repeat. This, combined with many other small things, which in isolation were hardly something to fret about, left my mental health in tatters.

It’s not just a bad day, or a bad week. It’s all the time. I am struggling to engage in reading papers. As soon as I pick them up, I glaze over or I get distracted. My reading list grows forever longer – the weight of it playing on the back of my mind. My inner voice constantly telling me I am not doing enough to succeed.

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I Don’t Want to Dance in the Dark: Disclosing Mental Illness and Neurodiversity in the Ableist Academy by Marco Miguel Valero Sanchez

When I saw the call from Voices of Academia on Twitter actively seeking contributors to share their stories on mental health and well-being in academia, I thought: Wouldn’t a blog be a great way to share your own experiences with depression and ADHD in academia? Wouldn’t it also be an excellent opportunity to raise awareness about mental illness and neurodiversity in general? Why shouldn’t you give it a try? As usual, I was very tired that day. I had a sleepless and restless night, an unexpected panic attack in the morning, and a stronger depressive phase overall – perhaps because I already had a few days of holiday. I find such days off always give you the ‘opportunity’ to think intensively and continuously about yourself, your body, and your mind – whether you like it or not.

Perhaps my mental state was also the reason why my initial enthusiasm was immediately overtaken by self-doubt and pessimism, asking myself: Why would anyone care what you, of all people, have to say about the challenges and difficulties of managing mental health and well-being in academia? Who exactly would care about your personal story? And above all: Why would it make any difference and to whom? In fact, I cannot say whether anyone will read my personal story, care about it, or whether it will make any difference at all. But maybe these are the wrong questions and expectations to begin with. What I can say with absolute certainty, however, is that every voice matters with regard to mental health and well-being – in academia and beyond – and that every voice helps to shed light on a still taboo and mostly invisible topic. And in this respect, I am confident that my voice matters as well.

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How to be a Productive Tortoise: Neurodivergence and Asking for Academic Adjustments by Vicky Bowskill

Asking for reasonable adjustments can be hard, especially for hidden disabilities like autism. It took me over three decades to learn how to do it and I’ve finally made it to graduate school. Writing about it is also hard but I’m sharing part of my story here in the hope that this will encourage anyone who is struggling with asking for academic help to speak up. And give a glimpse into why seemingly minor adjustments can be so important. Oh, and I’ll explain about the tortoise…

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Why so shocked? I’m Neurodiverse, not Unintelligent by Linda Corcoran

You did really good on that test, didn’t you?’. A voice of surprise, shock, perhaps even disbelief coming from a university lecturer who is aware that I have a learning disability. I’d like to say that it was an isolated incident in my life, but it’s something I’ve become accustomed to, especially since I was diagnosed with dyslexia, ADHD, and autistic-like traits in my late teenage years, the latter of which has currently come under review once again by my mental health team. I’ve been told by many people that I should be grateful that I was never ‘officially’ diagnosed with autism – an ableist point of view I wish people would retire.

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