How to nurture your mental health in science and academia amid challenging times

As a young scientist, doing your research and building up your career is hard enough. The demands to learn the art of the trade, make a mark in your field, and navigate the highly competitive academic world can rapidly become all-consuming. At the same time, you may also be at a stage when you want—or need—to explore other facets of your life and identity, develop personal relationships, or start a family. And then sometimes, on top of it all, life will plunge you into difficult circumstances or throw storms your way.

Thankfully, recognizing and addressing the varied pressures that early-career researchers find themselves under has been rising on the global agenda. But discussing individual struggles and realities largely remains taboo, and countries and institutions still have a long way to go to truly support all their researchers.

Everyone’s well-being and mental health journey is different, and what helps someone may not work—or be downright harmful—for someone else. But reading about others’ experiences may help you know yourself a little better, tap into your own strengths, and find the support you need when you need it. So, Science Careers spoke to several early-career scientists about how they’ve nurtured their well-being and mental health along their academic journey, sometimes during particularly challenging personal and professional situations. The answers have been edited for clarity and brevity.

Q: What has your mental health journey been? What stressors have you encountered, and how have you navigated them?

Annelies Van de Ven, postdoctoral researcher in archaeology at the Catholic University of Louvain and ambassador for the Researcher Mental Health Observatory network: A big breaking point for me was at the beginning of my master’s, when my pursuit of academic excellence spiraled into an eating disorder. I was terrified to ask for help, seeing it as a further sign of failure, so it really took friends and family intervening and getting me home for a semester for me to realize how bad it had gotten and to recover. I have definitely had some moments when my mental health has slipped again, but by that point I could recognize the signs a lot better so I immediately found myself a coach to help me.

With the birth of my first daughter a few years ago, I have learned to better manage my own expectations of productivity while also worrying less about how my own priorities might be perceived by others. Still, managing work and family is a roller coaster on a day-to-day basis. On some days, there will just be a crisis at work or a call from the day care center saying my daughter is sick and needs to be taken home. At those moments, it is important that I am kind to myself and don’t let perfectionism take the helm as I compromise on or blend some of my commitments. More generally, I need to regularly remind myself that taking a break allows me to be well and able to do my work and care for my loved ones and everything else I have on my plate.

Looking toward the future, my contract will end in the spring, and while I have managed to land an exciting 5-month traineeship that will last me through July, I have no clear plans after the summer. On bad days, this can really get me stressed, and it takes a lot of effort to not get totally paralyzed. Being around colleagues and doing smaller admin tasks that keep me occupied can momentarily relieve some of the pressure. On good days, I remember that it is normal to not have everything perfectly lined up and that I shouldn’t let agonizing about the future hamper how much I enjoy my current project.

Michelle Pleace, Ph.D. candidate in economics at the University of Pretoria: There’s nothing else I’d rather be doing professionally, so the fear of not being competent and belonging in the academic sphere is particularly anxiety-inducing. When I experience this stress, my tendency is to hyperfocus on my career, which leads to extended work hours and a neglect of almost everything else, exacerbating my anxiety further. My pursuit of excellence is also a double-edged sword in that any mistakes in my work tends to be magnified and trigger a cascade of negative self-talk. While I have yet to discover a way to silence this negative self-talk, I make a conscious effort to remind myself that I am only human. To cope with what I see as an inevitable career-related stressor, I engage with peers who can empathize with my concerns and lend a supportive ear, making my worries feel more manageable.

Francis Aguisanda, technical communications at 10x Genomics: Francis Aguisanda, technical communications at 10x Genomics: I left bench science many years ago because I felt I had hit a breaking point in academia. This generated a lot of internalized shame, but I constantly reminded myself why I made the choice. There’s definitely a sunk cost fallacy in walking away, but if you’re miserable, ask yourself why you’re feeling this way, and whether this path can ever lead you to a place where you feel fulfilled. Even in my job today, I think it’s important to set clear boundaries between work and home. It helps to remind myself that I don’t operate an emergency hotline—I’ve silenced work email notifications on my phone. Then, to keep stress at bay throughout the day, I find it helpful to set aside dedicated time on my calendar to vent and worry, so that I don’t feel the need to focus on these emotions at other times in the day.

Sarah Warbis, Ph.D. student in psychology at the University of Bath: As a researcher of sexual assault, I have found that sometimes this research can, unsurprisingly, have a toll on my well-being. I try to check in with how I’m feeling more regularly and express self-compassion. When I can feel myself getting upset or angry, I try and alternate short bursts of working on a particular task with something less taxing or take more frequent breaks. In more severe cases, I will stop working and put my laptop somewhere out of sight so I can focus on myself and work through my feelings. More generally, I have a natural inclination to criticize myself for what else I should rather be doing and how I may not be doing every task as quickly as I’d like to. This often leads to feelings of guilt and laziness. Just asking myself what I would say to a friend in a similar situation helps me generate a flood of more compassionate thoughts.

Anna Schueth, assistant professor in the Computational Brain Connectivity lab at Maastricht University: In my first years at university, I was struggling with a heavy workload and working multiple jobs next to my studies, as my parents could not support me as a first-generation student. I felt I was a burden for my parents and simply did not see a way out. Twenty years ago, I felt I could not talk with anyone about my suicidal thoughts; the stigma was simply too high. I made a suicide attempt as a student at the age of 20. For years, I kept this a “secret” and I am glad I can speak about this now and help others at my campus and beyond. The last 2 years were particularly stressful with the transition from postdoc to assistant professor, while going through a divorce at the same time. With help, such as therapy, great friends, and focusing on my mental and physical health, I came out at the other end. I feel stronger than ever and I am beyond excited for what my academic and private future holds.

Desiree Dickerson, clinical psychologist and academic mental health and well-being consultant: During my Ph.D. and postdoc, I suffered massively from imposter syndrome and perfectionism. That self-talk was really toxic. It made me competitive when I could have collaborated, it made me procrastinate on work that needed my time and dedication, and it made me avoid people I really could have learned from. I have (with time and conscious effort) learned to ease up on the perfectionism and try to take the spotlight off myself by focusing on how my contributions might help others (rather than fearing they will always embarrass me).

Nicolo’ Brandizzi, Ph.D. candidate in computer science at Sapienza University of Rome: The biggest source of stress for me during my Ph.D. has been comparison. In my emerging field, there’s a foundational paper released almost every week. It feels like there’s always someone, somewhere doing exactly what I’m doing, only better. This feeling can be invalidating, but it can also be a driving force. In the right amount, it has the potential to make you and them stretch beyond your comfort zone and push you through challenging situations. I have found it helpful to try to go for a bike ride by my old high school whenever I’m back at home. This allows me to reflect on what I’ve accomplished so far and truly appreciate the effort I’ve put in.

Dagny Deutchman, recently graduated master’s student in developmental psychology at Montana State University and mindfulness teacher at the Montana Mindfulness Project: I was in an abusive relationship during my last few years of graduate school and it significantly impacted my ability to get my work done, as I was perpetually exhausted from trying to manage my home life. Eventually, the compounding stressors of school, COVID, financial obligations, and that relationship resulted in me taking a yearlong leave of absence. Once I identified, with the help of my therapist, close friends, and family, that the relationship was the largest stressor within my control, I ended the relationship and worked towards enough stability to finish my degree. I was still in very early stages of recovery from post-traumatic stress disorder when I returned to my program, and I would often find myself overwhelmed managing my symptoms amidst teaching and meeting obligations. The effort was so huge that I had to do the bare minimum in other areas of my life. It was not ideal, but this allowed me to earn a master’s degree from my graduate work.

Even without that relationship or if something like COVID didn’t happen, it was obvious early on in my program that the workload, roles, and realities of graduate school were going to be overwhelming. The most damaging mindset I had during my degree was comparing my own version of success to the more traditional paths of those around me. I am not a traditional person, and my scientific career is not going to look traditional either. Now that I am outside of a traditional academic environment, I am still extremely busy establishing my career, but treading my own path is a much healthier fit for me. Over the years, I have also developed a morning routine of exercise, breath work, meditation, personal hygiene, healthy breakfast, and gratitude journaling that has been really helpful.

Marie Anastacio, postdoctoral researcher in artificial intelligence at RWTH Aachen University: I am easily nervous when someone expects something from me and I can’t do it as fast as I should due to other obligations. I am trying to be aware of my own limits and not overcommit. Even then, I will try and keep my personal time intact. I might stay one more hour in the office, but I will still have dinner with my family, ask my daughter how her day went, scratch my dog’s ear, and annoy my cats. If being a successful researcher means working until midnight every day, then I prefer not to aim for it. If being a perfect mom means not working and spending all my time with the children, then I’ll just be an OK mom. None of those two statements are true though; in both cases, I think the most important is to enjoy what you are doing and feel that this is your place. As a postdoc, I have lowered my working hours to 32 over 5 days, which allows me to bring my children to afterschool activities and avoid being stressed when something unexpected comes from the family side. I was nervous to ask my supervisor for this, but he accepted right away.

Q: What are the warning signs that you may be under too much pressure? What strategies or sources of help have been essential in steering clear or getting you out of such a situation?

Pieter-Jan Marent, Ph.D. student in biomedical sciences at KU Leuven and Ghent University: My Ph.D. takes a very prominent role in my life, but I also spend time with my friends as it’s vital for me to mentally disconnect from work. I also dedicate 6–10 minutes each morning to a guided meditation on my phone to begin the day with a sense of clarity and focus. I will also often head to my nearby CrossFit gym on my way to work as I need daily exercise for both my physical and mental health. When I’m struggling, I will become less friendly to those close to me and develop a cynical attitude towards minor setbacks. Upon noticing these signs, I try to take immediate action by prioritizing self-care. Having colleagues or friends challenge my negative thinking also really helps. Still, not long ago, I found myself lacking the physical and mental energy just to get out of bed and start my workday. This was a wake-up call. After taking the day off, I started to regularly write down my thoughts and feelings to help me gain clarity about my emotional state and challenges. Taking the first step of seeing a psychologist was not easy, but I also sought professional help available at my university to navigate both work issues and personal issues.

Galina Limorenko, postdoctoral researcher in molecular neurobiology and biochemistry at the Swiss Federal Institute of Technology in Lausanne: I am a neuroatypical autistic person whose identity is deeply rooted in what I choose to engage in. I have difficulty distinguishing the stressors I may be subjected to, so I rely on my immediate circle of friends and colleagues, as well as doctors, to provide me with feedback if there is something out of the ordinary. After analyzing the patterns with my doctor, my main categories of stressors are unexpected changes in my immediate environment, imposed changes to my routine (including mandatory holidays), unclear communication or expectations from others, and participation in social occasions. On the other hand, common stressors such as deadlines, parallel project management, and time constraint pressures are conducive to my well-being rather than compromising it.

Anastacio: The first sign that I’m too far is the quality of my sleep. If I start having nightmares or agitated sleep, I know I’m in a bad place. The other sign is my patience with my children. If there is shouting at home, it means something’s wrong. In that case, I usually try to figure out how to reorganize my tasks by postponing or dropping some of them.

Pleace: Regrettably, I tend to recognize warning signs far too late, and at times, I even ignore them. It’s often only when I experience symptoms of a panic attack that I’m compelled to pause and address the situation by reducing my daily work hours and reverting to the basics of self-care. But regardless of how hectic my schedule becomes, I always prioritize exercise, as I’ve noticed it enhances my productivity. I will also take a 10- to 15-minute walk just before engaging in a meeting or task that has been causing me anxiety. This practice enables me to think clearly rather than fixating on the stressful situation.

Van de Ven I suffer from having an “inner reviewer”—that nagging voice that is constantly telling you things aren’t good enough. Rather than making me a better academic, listening to this voice makes me more likely to just shut down and procrastinate. My warning signs are a lack of focus and avoidance of important work, denying myself enjoyable experiences like time with friends and family because I feel like I haven’t deserved them, and being unable to switch my brain off, leading to a lot of overanalyzing and bad sleep. I have worked hard to develop what the Academic Imperfectionist calls “an inner mentor” that provides a counterweight to the inner critic by pointing out small victories and happy moments and focusing on what we can learn from mistakes.

Deutchman: My warning signs are inability to sit down and focus on my work for regular time blocks, lack of interest in working out or engaging in creative pursuits, and isolation from friends and family that lasts more than 2 weeks. I also have an old hip injury that will flare up when I’m not taking care of myself holistically. I typically respond to these stressors by scaling back the obligations on my calendar and taking a day off to rest and come back to self-care.

Brandizzi: It starts with feeling the urge to “just finish this last part.” There’s often the accompanying nagging thought that “it’s your fault you’re so slow at doing things.” From there, I might first ignore people around me who suggest taking a break, whether it’s for lunch, coffee, or just a moment of rest. It quickly transitions to irritability, and I find myself becoming easily annoyed with my partner or family over minor things. This is when I usually begin to realize—or someone will point out—that something is off. If I don’t catch these signs, it escalates to what I call “the panda mood”—all I’ll find myself doing all day is eating and sleeping. During this phase, even basic tasks become a struggle, and I lose interest in activities I normally enjoy. Thankfully, this state is rare for me, but recovering from it can require professional help.

Schueth: I would suggest to make yourself familiar with any mental health organization, community, or grassroots initiative at your campus and have a look at what they offer. It is important to be aware of what forms of support may be out there, and not only seek them when in a crisis. Asking for help is brave, and if you feel you want to reach out to someone, please do so. At times, we just need to pause for a moment and think of what we have overcome in the past and what seemed impossible at the time to find strength we had forgotten we had.

Aguisanda: I used to go throughout my day constantly worrying that others were negatively judging my work and myself. Some helpful self-talk to release this pressure has been to ask myself, “Do you really think you’re that important?” The reality is that your co-workers have their own workloads and if you occupy any space in their head, it’s probably exceedingly small!

Q: Have you talked about mental health issues with colleagues?

Brandizzi: I grew up in a family where therapy was encouraged, and I see my therapy journey as one of self-understanding and self-improvement. This has made me generally comfortable expressing my struggles out loud to friends and colleagues. Over the years, I have also joined communities of young researchers with similar challenges, and I’ve found that what struggling researchers seek the most is understanding and validation of their feelings.

Van de Ven: It was only after joining a peer-to-peer mental health support group back at university that I realized how common mental health issues like eating disorders are, and how essential open communication is to break these cycles. Today, I organize workshops, sit on university representative bodies, and take part in outreach in an effort to promote mental health. On a more individual level, when I know someone is struggling, I take the time to go talk over coffee or take a walk around the lake, listen, show empathy, and try to balance out the inner reviewer they are encountering (or in some cases, the real-life academic bully) with a dose of optimistic reality.

Deutchman: Initially, my PI [principal investigator] was hesitant to let me take a break from my Ph.D., but after I broke down crying in their office the second time I brought it up, they understood the extreme pressure I was under. At that time, I was not yet able to fully understand what I was going through or articulate why I needed a leave of absence other than I knew that my body was slowly shutting down. Thankfully, my PI trusted me by not pressing me for answers and supported me in applying for the process. I was embarrassed, but the shame I felt was nothing compared to my extreme discomfort with my mental health and the physiological symptoms I was experiencing due to chronic stress.

Anastacio: I find myself more at ease talking about deeper topics than doing small talk, so I naturally often end up discussing well-being issues with colleagues. Some will avoid the subject or crack a joke, but once you start the conversation you realize that many people are struggling, and that talking about it will make you and them feel less inadequate.

Marent: I had the opportunity to co-host a “Mental Health Matters” podcast at my university, in which we delved into the various challenges encountered by young academics and engaged in open conversations. This has taught me the importance of actively listening to the concerns and feelings of colleagues who are going through challenging times without judgment to create a safe space. I also try to help them see the broader context and potential solutions beyond the immediate challenges.

Pleace: Discussing mental health issues requires tremendous courage. Initially, I became self-conscious, believing that I was the only individual grappling with anxiety, and I kept it hidden for years. However, my discomfort began to ease when the academic friends I confided to shared they were dealing with similar issues.

Warbis: One of the best solutions I’ve found to deal with the upsetting side of my research is talking to other people researching sensitive subjects. This started as going for chats over coffee with a death studies Ph.D. researcher in my faculty and led to us founding the Researcher Wellbeing Group, a peer-led, interdisciplinary, interuniversity support group designed for early-career researchers pursuing traumatic topics. Here we can freely talk about the tolls our research is taking on us, and it’s been fantastic to see how this space has no element of shame or feeling like we aren’t strong enough as researchers for feeling upset by our work.

Limorenko: I have been heartened by the many individuals I’ve come across in the scientific community at intersections with other less represented segments of our society. Shifting blame on individuals for their mental health struggles is counterproductive, and often outright insulting given the minimal practical solutions offered. As early-career researchers, we are now in a position to more openly and publicly voice our concerns and demand larger systematic changes. The question to all of us now is: How can we—and do we—make a difference?

By ELISABETH PAIN
ELISABETH PAIN