Don’t Let Life Pass You By

“What’s so wrong with being happy? Kudos to those who see through sickness.”

– Incubus, 
Warning

 

 

Earlier this year, I found myself at a big crossroads in my life. 

For two years, I was in graduate school, doing a Master of Philosophy degree, which is purely a research program. My research was sponsored by the Ministry of Higher Education, and as part of this sponsorship, I was also provided with some income as I worked as a research assistant. On top of that, I didn’t have to pay any tuition fees, as I was also given a separate scholarship by the university.

I got into the program with intentions of being in academia, and working as a lecturer. But down the road, everything changed.

Academia disgusted me. I hated the politics and disregard for ethics that I personally witnessed.

I was disillusioned with my own research as well. Even though I essentially enjoyed doing research, I couldn’t help but feel like I wasn’t making a meaningful and practical difference.

I personally felt that too much focus was spent on intellectualizing the problems, rather than actually solving them. At the end of the day, all I had was an academic theory that may or may not work, while it stood among countless theories put out every year.

To make matters more difficult, I also had to deal with a supervisor who was emotionally abusive and manipulative. There were more than a few times where I was pressured into doing things I didn’t want to do, like forging my data to make it look good, or to make up a non-existent study, for publication. 

My supervisor always had explanations for everything. If I disagreed with their requests, the situation would be framed as me being lazy and incompetent. 

Most of the time, I felt like I was walking on eggshells. Seeing my supervisor’s name pop up on my phone always sent me a cold rush of anxiety. No matter where I was, or what time it was — even late into the night, I would be on guard for a phone call or a text about work. I even kept my phone with me in the bathroom, after I was yelled at for being away from my phone while I showered. 

Going through all of this was definitely detrimental to my mental health. Yet, even though my supervisor was aware of my challenges with depression, they regarded these challenges as weaknesses, often telling me, “It’s just in your mind.”

Looking back, these were easy red flags for me to quit graduate school. And I always wanted to. But for far too long, I kept doing mental gymnastics with myself, thinking I just had to persevere a little more, and then I’d be done with it.

Perhaps I felt a big sense of commitment, too. After all, my research was funded with taxpayers’ money. So, I worked on honoring my research as best I could. And I believe I did.

 

 

***

 

 

Some time earlier this year, I did technically manage to finish my research. I already had a complete draft of my thesis, and I even reported my research findings to the Ministry. But in terms of my Master’s, I still had a couple of assessments to go, which would take me roughly one more year to complete.

The problem here was that the Ministry’s sponsorship had just expired. And so did my scholarship from the university. I also had a mess going on at home, which brought on even more financial stress.

Even so, my initial plan was to finish my Master’s. I thought about finding a corporate job, and doing my Master’s part-time, so that I could sit for my remaining assessments. 

But perhaps, I wasn’t really thinking after all.

I remember driving to the university one day, feeling emotionally exhausted and numb. Somewhere along the way, I just completely spaced out, and I forgot what I was doing, or where I was going.

Even though it was a route I had taken hundreds of times, I missed my intended exit. It took me quite a while until I realized that I was heading in a direction with an unusual scenery. 

Incubus’s album Morning View was playing in my car, and ironically, the song that played as I “woke up” was Warning. The chorus had never hit me so hard: “She woke in the morning, she knew that her life had passed her by. She called out a warning, ‘Don’t ever let life pass you by.’”

I realized that I had been ignorantly sweeping my problems under the rug for two years. And in that moment, I knew something had to change — and if it didn’t change then, it never would.

With all the stresses I had going on in my life, I decided to hit the pause button. I started listening to how I honestly felt, and not how I wanted to feel, about whether it was worth staying in my Master’s program, whether it still had anything to do with my goals, whether my future self would regret quitting, whether my studies were something I even genuinely cared about.

Every time I sat down to reflect, the answer to these questions was always a resounding “no”. 

 

 

***

 

 

Unfortunately, the story didn’t end there. The bad news for me was that I had to get my supervisor’s approval on my withdrawal form. Of course, they refused to put down their signature. And the withdrawal process couldn’t proceed at all without it. (Very fucking dumb process, because clearly, it doesn’t take psychopathic supervisors into consideration.)

A long ordeal ensued for a couple of months, during which I wrote in a lengthy complaint to the Dean, where I detailed all of my supervisor’s unethical behavior in the past 2 years. An investigation happened, and long story short, it culminated in a one-on-one meeting between me and my supervisor, to finally settle my withdrawal. 

I expected a shouting match between us in their room, but to my surprise, they were the nicest they had ever been. With an off-puttingly pleasant demeanor, they assured me that they cared about my problems. Oddly, they also calmly rationalized their unethical behaviors, making them sound utterly reasonable. They convinced me to stay, but they let me know that the decision was ultimately up to me. 

I couldn’t believe what was going on in my head. They managed to lower down my walls, that I actually started thinking to myself, “Perhaps I misjudged my supervisor,” and “Just stay! You’ve already drafted your entire thesis! You just have two more assessments left to do, and you’re done!”

In a fortunate turn, I suddenly thought to ask for some time to think things through. “You know what,” I told my supervisor. “Let me have a walk and think this over a cup of coffee. I’ll come back and let you know what my decision is.”

I took what turned out to be my last walk around the campus, as a student anyway. I got myself my coffee, and I put on my earphones. I listened to Warning while I walked, sipped, and thought about what to do. 

I remember thinking, “Your supervisor is nice today. But you spent two years with them, and you already know what they’re actually like on an everyday basis. This is your life, and you don’t have any more time to waste on this. You need to listen to yourself.” 

As I sat on my decision, the song rang in my head, “She woke in the morning, she knew that her life had passed her by. She called out a warning, ‘Don’t ever let life pass you by.’”

 

 

***

 

 

Looking back at this crossroads, I’m always filled with gratitude — for the way my heart turned, for the thoughts that led to my decisions, and for the music. 

You’re probably sick of me referencing Incubus in nearly every article, but this goes to show how meaningful their music has been to me. During this difficult time, I was inspired to rebuild my relationship with myself. And Morning View was especially a big help in accompanying and guiding me through this experience. Songs like Warning truly made me reflect on how I had been sleepwalking through much of my life, especially in the last two years. 

As I told myself, this is your life, and don’t live it for anyone else. If this isn’t the life you want, or if your current life isn’t making you happy, don’t be afraid to quit it. Don’t ever let life pass you by.

Quitting may seem like a life-or-death situation when it’s running through your head. But if it’s really in alignment with your values, I’m sure you’d find peace and ease on the other side of your decision.

As months have passed, there honestly hasn’t been a single day where I haven’t felt relieved for quitting graduate school. 

I just couldn’t put myself in a situation where I’m dragging my feet to work every day. I don’t ever want to waste my limited time and energy doing something I don’t believe in, where I’m doing it just to get through with it. I’d be doing a disservice to my work as well, because I’m not putting my best self into it.

Not only that, out of everyone I’ve talked to about my decision, probably less than 10% of them were critical about it, as they had the opinion that I “squandered” all that time and effort for nothing.

Most people were incredibly supportive and understanding about my decision, as they trusted that I was doing the right thing for myself. There was an outpouring of love, and I’m forever grateful for that.

One of the first people I talked to about quitting was my former undergrad advisor, who taught me in at least three semesters, and has been a mother figure since we first met. In fact, she was the one who encouraged me to take up this program in the first place. 

Despite my dislike for academia, I think of her as a ray of light — a reminder that there are genuinely good people in this industry.

Both of us teared up during our meeting, and I only wish I had shared my struggles with her earlier instead of keeping them all to myself. All the while, she would reach out every now and then to see how I was doing, and every time, I would only tell her that I was alright. She would get worried when she didn’t hear from me for extended periods of time.

She kept emphasizing that she was not in the least disappointed, and that she wholeheartedly supported any decision I made. “Be strong and be happy,” she advised me, adding, “Don’t ever step on others to be successful,” referring to my supervisor from hell, whom she labelled a bully.

“Whatever happens, you’ll always have me,” she said with her kind, comforting smile. “You’ll always be my favorite student, and you’ll always be on my mind.”