The differences between my full-time student days and my full-time parent, full-time employee, part-time student days are striking, namely in the amount of time that I’m able to devote to this blog and my education in general.
Previously, both as an undergraduate and MA student, it was easy to find that balance of me-time and school time. While my peers were giving up reading for fun, I read novels, did reading for class, spent time with friends, and generally felt fairly balanced, although I have always struggled with “functional” depression and that colored the enjoyment of said activities depending on how well I was coping. Hereditary depression is probably always going to be a part of my life, although considering the high recommendations that I have always gotten from professors and employers alike, in my case it is a matter of knowing how to deal with that, ensure that I’m on an anti-depressant if I’m in a phase where I’m needing one, and continue to work on self-care.
I know some people would say that one shouldn’t mention depression in a public setting that can be read by future employers…but when all is said and done, I don’t hide who I am. Depression is part of who I am but does not make me any less of an asset (just ask my current supervisor, who says that he has never seen my department run as well as I run it!) and, in my opinion, employers need to be more aware of mental health issues and the truth about those issues.
Anyway.
Depression aside, the differences between my previous academic experiences and this one are striking. I have to be organized in a way that I’ve never been organized before! While I have never been a procrastinator, as evidenced by the fact that I never once pulled an all-nighter in either my undergraduate or MA work, I could afford to let things wait until a little later because I knew that I’d have the time to do them. Now that I know that I can only do homework on the weekends (when I’m not spending time with my son or trying to keep my house from becoming a disaster) or on weekday evenings from 7-9 PM (on evenings that I don’t put my son to bed or, like happened sixty seconds ago, have my son beg to have me sit next to him after my husband has read him his story), I have to plan out my time.
More corners get cut these days. I don’t skip reading (mostly!) but I sometimes can’t spend as much time thinking about it as I would like. It’s not laziness. It’s just a simple lack of hours in the day to do everything that has to be done AND do that self-care thing I mentioned. If I don’t have thirty minutes, or an hour, to check e-mail, read a book for fun, and have some introverted-me time, my performance everywhere else in my life suffers. I am acutely aware of that and have to deal with it. That self-understanding and recognition is a difficult lesson, really, but one that I’ve had to learn in the last few months to stay sane.
More on this later, after I sit with a three-year-old who broke his arm last week and has been rather more restless and clingy since then!
