Where did you go Castles and Coprolites!

And we're nearing the end of 2023. After a few years of sporadic infrequent posting, I've accepted the fact this will never be the weekly blog that it started out as, all the way back in 2012. My life is almost unrecognisable now compared to when I first started this blog. I was halfway through my first postdoc at York, had no family responsibilities, and publishing my PhD research was going really well. On the surface, an up and coming ECR with a bright future. It took another four years of postdocs before finally getting a permanent academic job in 2015, literally at the point when I'd decided to leave academia (and in fact had been in a non-academic job for 6 months). Since getting married and having a baby, the uncertainty of temporary contracts and having to move around so much was no longer viable. I am not sure how things would have turned out had I not landed my current job. I was happy to have some stability, but the loss of identity as an academic during those six months was harder than I imagined.

It was an unimaginably good stroke of luck against all the odds, getting my dream job at my home university, in a great department with friendly colleagues. And things have continued to go well in terms of my career. I secured a NERC grant within my first year which really accelerated my research and helped me build the labs and a team. Things were going well in terms of my career, me and my team published some really exciting and important research, I got another grant and continued to build the labs and archaeological science at Newcastle. I had a second child (and proper maternity leave this time, thanks to having a permanent job). 

Again, on the surface all seemingly very successful, but behind the scenes my physical and mental health were getting increasingly worse. Chronic fatigue, migraines, frequent fainting and dizziness. At first I assumed it must be related to pregnancy and being exhausted with an infant, but I realised I'd been having these symptoms intermittently for most of my adult life, and actually pregnancy just meant it was more noticeable and frequent. I ended up having all sorts of tests which didn't come up with answers, just that I was prone to a rare type of migraine, and probably POTS (postural orthostatic tacychardia syndrome).

I always knew I was considered a little odd or quirky, that I never quite fit in. But academia was full of odd and quirky people, so I didn't think too much of it. I occasionally lamented that I wasn't better at socialising and networking at conferences. But I didn't feel like it held me back - what I lacked in face to face networking skills, I more than made up for in other ways. Connections took longer to build and were perhaps fewer, but were long running and deep (shout out to my lovely collaborators, you know who you are!).

Then the pandemic hit, and everything was upended. The pandemic completely shook up my life (as it did for many). The carefully crafted routines and structures I had built up in my life disappeared almost overnight. I rose to the challenge of switching to online teaching, spent hours crafting online materials and recorded lectures. Rather than research I spent time on 'research damage control' and keeping the labs running (the labs were closed for users, but still needed a lot of attention to monitor equipment, flush sinks etc). But my health conditions took a total nosedive to the point where I could barely function. Everything that had previously been difficult but 'doable' now became totally impossible, and my life became overshadowed by constant fatigue and anxiety. Somehow during this period of chaos I managed to write a successful AHRC grant and get promoted to Professor.

It was during this time that a family member suggested I looked into autism spectrum disorder (ASD). Like many people I wasn't really familiar with the condition, aside from the stereotypes. But the more I researched, the more I recognised myself in the descriptions. I went through the assessment process and was diagnosed in 2021, around the same time I was promoted, and not long after my dad passed away. Those months of my life were really surreal. Yet again I started to question my entire identity, and withdrew from a lot of personal and professional committments. It is only now, that I have started to feel comfortable, and am starting to readjust my life and formalise accommodations both at work and at home, that my health has started to improve.

I have so many more thoughts on this, but will leave it there for now. I am aware that in many ways, I am extremely lucky to have gone through all of this with the security of a permanent job, and the support of a local family network, and a supportive workplace. I'd be keen to hear from any other ASD academics about their experiences, positive and negative.