A Story of Oversensitivity and Academia
By: Anne Basil
Tags: Academia, Oversensitivity

A Story of Oversensitivity and Academia

Oversensitivity

Shy, timid, reserved, introverted, lone-wolf, antisocial… words I have heard people use to describe me and that I even have used to describe myself over the years. “You are too emotional; you’ll never get through life like that” words pronounced by my aunt after seeing me cry over a meaningless comment she made. A meaningless comment to most, meaningless to her but hurtful to me. And I do “cry too much” as people still say, but is it really a bad thing? I guess it is what you have to do when you feel everything exceedingly. It is your only way out. Sensing what others feel just by looking at them and feeling their pain as my own, having my heart broken whenever someone says a negative comment or raises their tone, being overwhelmed in a crowd, crying over a song, a movie, a leaf falling from a tree… these things are a part of my daily life. Discovering new people and helping them, loving them is part of me, but being with others can just become draining. It has always led me to find comfort in loneliness and in books. It can be quite hard to make people understand, especially loved ones, that you adore them but that you NEED to hide in your batcave for a while without talking to anyone, without having to feel their emotions, even if or even because you would give your whole self to everyone who you thought needed it.

Academia

What does academia have to do with any of that? I guess I should tell you that I am a PhD student finishing her thesis in eight months, hopefully. How did I end up here? Let’s say I was interested in pretty much anything when I had to choose a university cursus to follow. Translation seemed like a pretty neat idea given that the first year included courses on law, arts, economics, history, languages and much more. For someone who wanted to travel the world and keep learning as much as possible, it seemed quite appealing. Moreover, being a good translator requires you to discover new things all the time. But even that was not enough.

That one teacher, I hope you know the one, the one who sees something in you, believes in you and tells you “What the hell are you doing here? You are going to get bored…” Well, indeed, in those three first years of bachelor at university I had been a good student, I had been doing everything right to succeed, but I had forgotten my passions: drawing, painting, sculpting, gardening, doing gymnastics, caring for dogs, cooking and most of all reading. Isn’t it paradoxical? A translator who does not read. Let’s just say that you have so much work that you stop enjoying books, books that make you dream, that make you cry, that make you love or forget or laugh. In a nutshell, books that make life worth living. “You are going to get bored” words that started creeping in my brain. Mmmh, I might actually already be bored, I even forgot myself in the process. That is when that teacher told me that research might be a good idea.

Research

And that little seed started sprouting. I told myself that research was actually exactly what I had wanted in the first place when deciding to go for a cursus in translation: constant learning, traveling and many, many books… real books. And for my highly sensitive self, a quiet life.

Boy was I wrong. I did find that drive and that happiness to learn new things every day. I did find fulfilment in spending my days reading and writing and sharing ideas with people I trust. Nevertheless, I also discovered the dark side of academia. I had always thought that academia was supposed to be a place of sharing and open-mindedness.

Instead

I discovered a world where most people were jealous, where most people were fighting amongst themselves to get the only available position.

I discovered a world where most people had stopped sharing meaningful ideas because of pervasive distrust.

I discovered a world of hypocrites where your mentor would tell you that even if you did not find a speech interesting you should still go find that person and tell them you liked it… the joys of “networking”.

I discovered a world where plagiarism is evil incarnate but where some people find ways to steal your ideas in even sneakier ways.

I discovered a world where success is welcomed by vultures who left you to do all the handiwork but now want their names written on your work.

I discovered a world where your mentors do not see you as a researcher but as a handyman or woman: do post that letter, would you? do fill in this paperwork for me, would you? do teach in my stead because I have something more important, would you? do go to this conference in the middle of nowhere and fill in a report for me because I don’t have time for that myself but would like to appear prolific on my end-of-the-year report, would you?

I discovered a world where appearances matter more than quality.

I discovered an ungrateful world, a world that extinguished the spark and motivation I saw in many young people eager to start researching.

Downfall

It was a world that sent me down a rabbit hole, and not the colourful Alice kind. What else was I to do? To be happy, one needs to be surrounded by kindness and positivity, one needs to be able to share ideas with an open-heart and to help others without asking anything in return. Depression started creeping in, without me even realising it. Slowly but surely, I started pushing my limits and, of course, I cracked. I cracked to the point where I started panicking whenever I saw my computer and started bursting out crying whenever I had to open my mailbox. And something that had been a passion became a nightmare.

Initiation

Weirdly, 2020 and its first lockdown saved me. All the conferences and pointless reunions were cancelled, all the heartless interactions with uncaring others were thrown down the drain and I finally managed to find time for myself. This is merely my own experience with academia, and of course, some mentors did offer me meaningful and enriching interactions. The excess of negativity and my oversensitivity did nevertheless hurt me. Academia does not care for one’s needs. The need to be more prolific than others in order to find a stable position does not grant one the alone time needed to recharge one’s batteries.

I still struggle to find ways to juggle what I love and do not love about research. Thankfully, teaching gave me a place where I could create the atmosphere I was looking for when I first started researching.

What teachings do I find in this story? Well, I hope that you find ways to love yourself, that you find ways not to forget yourself, that you find ways to say “no” when things go too far to preserve yourself. Life is so full of beauty, do find meaning in the little things and breathe. As Mufasa says, do remember who you are. You owe that to yourself.