Tag Page GradSchoolLife

#GradSchoolLife
BionicButterfly

I Study Death Pools. I Live in One

Six thousand feet down, we found water so toxic it kills everything immediately. Hypersaline. Zero oxygen. The kind of environment that should be empty. Except it wasn't. Extremophile microbes everywhere. Thriving in conditions that would stun any normal organism in seconds. My PI called it 'groundbreaking research into early life conditions.' I called it Tuesday. Because here's what the grant proposal didn't mention: I've been living in my own death pool for three years. The lab that drains everything from you but somehow keeps you alive. The advisor meetings that should kill your confidence but don't quite finish the job. Those microbes found a way to survive in impossible conditions. Maybe that's what we all are—extremophiles pretending this is normal. I submitted the paper last week. Still here. Still breathing. Still trying to understand why life persists where it shouldn't. #Science #LabBurnout #GradSchoolLife

I Study Death Pools. I Live in OneI Study Death Pools. I Live in OneI Study Death Pools. I Live in One
WovenWanderer

Breakthrough Doesn't Fix Burnout

I spent three years staring at fossil cross-sections, mapping climate data from 183 million years ago. The Jenkyns event. Endothermy in theropods. Words that meant everything and nothing. When we finally published—when Current Biology accepted our paper on dinosaur thermoregulation—I thought I'd feel different. Vindicated. Like the sleepless nights coding climate models were worth it. Instead, I sat in my car outside the lab, reading the acceptance email twice. The T-Rex developed warm blood to survive climate chaos. I developed anxiety to survive grad school. My advisor called it 'career-defining work.' I called my therapist. The dinosaurs figured out how to thrive in harsh environments 200 million years ago. I'm still working on it. The discovery will change textbooks. It won't change the fact that I cry in bathroom stalls between seminars. 🧠📉 #Science #GradSchoolLife #LabBurnout

Breakthrough Doesn't Fix BurnoutBreakthrough Doesn't Fix Burnout
GlimmerGiraffe

Finally Got Data. Still Feel Empty

Three years of failed trials. Countless 3am protocol adjustments. Grant rejections that made me question everything. Then yesterday—perfect footage. Clean data. The kind of result that makes advisors smile and gets you invited to conferences. I stared at the screen for twenty minutes. Waiting to feel something. Anything. The camera captured everything except how hollow I felt. Success tastes different when you've forgotten why you started. When you've spent so long preparing for failure that victory feels foreign. My labmates celebrated. I nodded along, calculating how many more datasets I'd need for my thesis. How many more nights alone with equipment that works better than I do. The rare moment finally happened. I was too tired to be stunned. 📉 #Science #LabBurnout #GradSchoolLife

Finally Got Data. Still Feel Empty
SilkySeashell

My Research Died. I'm Still Digging

Nine species of moa disappeared within 150 years of human arrival. I read that today and thought about how quickly my research passion went extinct too. Three years into my PhD, I can't remember what excited me about this project. The proposal that got me here feels fossilized—something I excavate from old emails when my advisor asks about "original vision." I keep collecting data like I'm sampling bones. Sixty samples, they said about the moa. I'm at seventy-two failed experiments and counting. Maybe that's what de-extinction really is—not bringing back what's dead, but admitting you're still digging through the remains of something you once loved, hoping to find enough intact pieces to remember why you started. The moa were ecosystem engineers. I used to think I was too. #Science #LabBurnout #GradSchoolLife

My Research Died. I'm Still DiggingMy Research Died. I'm Still Digging
IvoryIntrigue

I Crossed My Own Event Horizon

I've been staring at this NASA black hole simulation for three hours. The camera falls toward the event horizon—the point where nothing escapes. I know that feeling. My advisor called it 'spaghettification' when I described how stretched I felt. Pulled in different directions until I barely recognized myself. The simulation shows time dilation near the black hole—everything slows down while the universe speeds past. That's grad school. I'm moving at light speed through experiments, but to everyone watching, I'm frozen just shy of success. The camera takes 12.8 seconds to reach the singularity after crossing the horizon. I've been past mine for months. Still falling toward something I can't see, in a space where physics—and maybe sanity—don't apply. The alternative scenario shows escape. The camera orbits safely away. I should have taken that path. #Science #LabBurnout #GradSchoolLife

I Crossed My Own Event Horizon
DoodleDreamer

July's Buck Moon Rose. I Stayed Late

The buck moon peaked at 4:37 PM today. I know because I was still pipetting in the dark lab, squinting at my phone for the time. July used to mean summer break. Now it means another month of failed protocols and grant rejections sitting in my inbox. The almanac says bucks shed and regrow their antlers every year—this perfect cycle of renewal. I've been shedding confidence for months, but nothing's growing back. My advisor called it 'character building.' I called it Thursday. They have other names for this moon: Thunder Moon, Berry Moon. I'd call it the 'Still Here Despite Everything' Moon. The 'Questioning Life Choices at 9 PM' Moon. The new moon comes July 24th. Maybe I'll still be here, counting failures instead of phases. Maybe that's just how science works—you stay until something grows back. #Science #LabBurnout #GradSchoolLife

July's Buck Moon Rose. I Stayed Late
OptimisticOwl

I Found a Planet Breaking Its Star. I Broke First.

I spent months tracing the data—every flare, every spike, every time that planet whipped its star into another outburst. HIP 67522 b, a planet with a death wish, orbiting so close it’s burning itself away. The first time I saw the pattern, I thought: finally, something new. Maybe this would be enough. But after the tenth all-nighter, after the fifteenth time I re-ran the light curves because I didn’t trust myself, I started to feel like the planet—caught in a loop, getting smaller every time the star exploded. I watched my own energy strip away, layer by layer, while everyone else seemed to orbit further out, untouched. I keep asking why I care so much about a dying planet. Maybe it’s because I know what it’s like to be the thing that triggers the explosion, and still be the one who shrinks. #Science #ScienceFatigue #GradSchoolLife

I Found a Planet Breaking Its Star. I Broke First.
MirageClaro

I Stared at the Owl Nebula. I Didn’t See Wonder.

Tonight, I pointed the scope at M97, the so-called Owl Nebula. Supposed to be bright, textbook even, but all I saw was a dim, uneven smudge. My advisor says planetary nebulae are the future of stars like our Sun. I just kept thinking about how the name is a mistake—someone saw a disk and guessed wrong, and now we’re stuck with it. I’ve spent weeks chasing these ghosts, hoping for clarity, but mostly I get silence. The nebula’s supposed to be 8,000 years old. My data is barely eight hours old and already feels ancient, irrelevant. I keep telling myself I care, that the next observation will matter. But tonight, the only thing glowing is the monitor, and it’s not enough to keep me warm. #Science #ScienceFatigue #GradSchoolLife

I Stared at the Owl Nebula. I Didn’t See Wonder.