That Ol' Feeling

I've actually already written a post very similar to this one. I lived abroad for two years because of my work. I look back on it as being simultaneously the best and worst decision I've ever made in my life. Although I still wonder whether my current state of mind, fractured relationships and disillusionment with the field I work in are all the price of the move I made, I probably still wouldn't change the way things have gone. People cheaply reel off the saying that you might not be able to change your past, but you can certainly shape your future. But does one have the courage do to so?

In the last few weeks I've come to the conclusion that at some point you just have to admit that your personality is not compatible with your work. Although I understand that it's not because of a failing on my part, I know that I'll always look back on my time in science as a failure. To pursue research as a career is a hard path to choose to follow. The hours are punishing, the hardships always seem to leave a bigger impression than the rewards, and you need to have a resolute faith in your own ideas even when others do not. No doubt many fields are similar, but in research, it sure as hell helps to have a lucky break at some point in your career, like coming into a project at a good time. It also helps to have someone in your corner, such as a boss, who happens to have a lot of clout. Their support, at the right time in one's career can be invaluable and set you up on a good path. There are many good people in the field who reach the same dizzy heights, without such support. It's a funny field in that potentially good people can slip through the cracks because they never got the right support or encouragement when it counted. Even when they might have had a long period of apparent low productivity, although it was no fault of their own.

The thing that all people who go far in this field have in common is their desire. Whether it's the desire for pure knowledge, getting the job done properly, or churning out x amount of papers per year. I think that during my time in the U.S., what desire I had got killed off by seeing the way the lab I worked in was operating. I thought things would improve when I got home but they haven't. And I believe my distaste for this field would still be as strong as it is now, regardless of where I work. The constant ego massaging, pressure, getting compared to others, and watching how people treat others with disrespect, makes me wonder why I'm still ultimately scared to get out. Honestly and objectively, it's an easy decision. Who in their right mind would choose this? In practice though, as I mentioned earlier, a part of me sees it as an admission of failure. Like any break up, there's guilt and a certain amount of grief. Guilt because I couldn't make it work, and grief for losing something that I once enjoyed. And of course the fear that I've become so one dimensional that I can't even try, let alone succeed, at anything else.

In Freaks and Geeks, Mrs Weir can't bring herself to read out loud that "other word for courage" that Lindsay uses in her diary. Now that's the sort of courage I was talking about earlier.