It has been exactly a week from the first day I went back to work.

Today, despite not completing a full day of 9 to 5, I am absolutely wrecked. I had MATLAB classes from 1 to 5, attended group therapy from 6 to 730 and finally dinner with a friend till 10. If you didn't already know, you could be sat in a chair all day but have a 100% focus on a brain-taxing task for 2 hours, and I assure you, you will be wrecked to the floor! Today, that is me. I am total wreckage.

I haven't attended group therapy in a long while (perhaps for 6 months). At group therapies, we take turns to talk about our problems at the start of the session. This is known as "Checking in". It's exactly like the Facebook home page, 'What's on your mind?'

It's funny how our day-to-day conversations have moved on from 'conversations' to 'web chats' and posting statuses addressed vaguely to anyone who is out there on your "friends" list. Deep down in our core, we need deeper connections. We need someone to ask us what's on our mind, so that we can communicate and more importantly, connect. When we write our thoughts as an online status, we end up doubting and questioning ourselves. More than often, when I post something online, I think who is going to be looking at it, and do people really care?

I want someone to ask me. To approach and genuinely show me that they want to know. Then on, I can comfortably be assured that the person I telling my story to isn't judging me silently from afar and I'm not exposing myself to the world. I am simply building a connection and a level of trust with this person. These are crucial human needs that separates us from every other living being.

Just like every person posting about Trump at this time of the year, my patience has thinned out to repetitive issues that pop up during group therapy. Group therapy can feel repetitive after you've attended a certain amount of therapy sessions with a group of 6 or more people (whom the people in the group often switch). It is helpful because it brings us to realise that we're all basically the same, but it is repetitive because we are all essentially the same.

We have the same relationship problems, self-esteem issues, confusion between where you are now and where you want to be. We undergo the same problems even at different ages. We all fear something. And the best way to learn is to help each other through methods that have worked. The answer to every problem is a formula. It is theoretical and it is almost always structured the same way. The most difficult part in applying a practical approach is that our emotional portion gets the better of us.

Everyone thinks they know better. The truth is, ideally we should learn from the mistakes of others. Now, the quote 'learning from others' must've stemmed from somewhere because people make the same mistakes! This is why we've all come down to this very point again - it is important to talk to one another about our problems.

Group therapy is basically a community of people having gathered together because some person with a medical/psychological degree realised - we all now severely need an excuse to gather and meet and have a reason to talk about ourselves.

So, let us gather and talk because we're the only beings with emotional intelligence.

Our brains can do wonders if we allow it. Anxiety and depression limits the potential of our brain narrowing our thoughts. We just need to give our brain a much needed break and be very kind with it. It's adapting and doing the best it can with what it has right now. (Image source: http://everybodyhasabrain.tumblr.com/)

Genuinely,
Rachel W.

P.S. I'd love to hear if anyone reading this has felt the same way or feel they can relate to what I talk about. Just leave me a comment if you'd like to just say hi or add to the discussion. Let's keep this going!

Today, has been my first day officially back at work. To be honest, Monday should have been my first day but I had a fever (probably self-induced).

I was nervous. Nervous! I was so terrified of stepping back into my workplace simply because that was where I was before I fell into a extended period of gloom and doom. Everything about the place had morphed into scary memories in my head - which weren't true, but I was afraid, and my body was doing all it could to keep me away from the place. So, it made sense for my body to react this way, except it doesn't make sense either, when you really think about it!

Your brain controls your whole body. A lot more than you and I are aware. When we panic, our brain sends signals to all parts of our body telling us to run or fight.

Some of us, are special. When experiencing a momentous (scale dependent on tolerance of each individual) amount of stress, we don't run or fight. We curl up in a ball and play dead. We are unable to move, some even have cold sweats and difficulty breathing. Believe it or not, playing dead is also a form of natural body defence as useless as one might feel during a panic attack, it's okay - You're perfectly human. Tried & tested.

Thankfully, (after stocking my backpack full of xanax) I went into work and it was wonderful. When I met my supervisor, we hugged. And let me tell you how lovely it is to be hugged! Especially so, when I just spent the entire journey on the way to work anxiously trying to think if I should greet my supervisor with a handshake or a hug.

Oh, but when someone hugs you, you feel like,
"It's okay. You're in safe hands now. I understand. We'll work things through."
That was great! And then I continued meeting several people whom I knew (before I called it quits a year ago) and gave them great big hugs too and it was wonderful. It made me feel so welcomed and it was so nice to be back.

Now, I can look at my nerves and laugh for ever being so afraid of these friendly people. Silly nerves!
Though, who are we kidding? My nerves are up and revving away for day 2 tomorrow!

Sometimes, when we spend too much time away from the thing that we were, once upon slightly nervous about, this thought can be reinforced again and again until it grows into a huge irrational fear. The only way to eliminate such a fear is to face it. Flat out. No safety gear, just head on. The more frequently you face it, the stronger you get. It does not necessarily get easier, but it feels less difficult because you're stronger. You get better at dealing with your nerves, you get better at calming yourself.

We forget that these are skills we've learnt when we were kids. Whenever we felt unsure, we were encouraged by our parents or given a form of incentive to proceed. This was how we were thought to make rational and right decisions. Now, we need to re-explore this part of our brain which has an overactive fear and re-learn the skills required to differentiate between rational and irrational fears.

We can do this. Slow and steady wins the race!

By your side,
Rachel W.

Decisions, decisions. (In case you were wondering, I chose blue.)

This week marks the last week away from my office desk. Next week, I am back to work after a long gap year. I am glad to say I took a break because the past year has been crucial in finding myself and allowing love.

When I first started my break, I felt so lost without any aim and purpose in life. My work and studies had consumed me. My pie chart of life consisted of 99% work. Recreation? That word hadn't exist in my vocabulary for as long as I can remember.

It's weird that it used to be so easy to just pick up something that I liked to do. Hobbies like writing, colouring, reading, drawing, painting, knitting, you get it.

Back in February of 2016, I was given the option to have a break from work. All I could worry about while on break was work. It's sad because whenever I had time off work I felt I should probably use the time to prepare me for future work. In other words, if I didn't use my time productively, I would worry about being lazy.

The truth is, I've forgotten what it was like to take a break. This might sound bizarre but it made me wonder what exactly is the difference between being lazy and resting.

I didn't have to use every waking our reading on work material, but I felt that I've come all this way to get this scholarship, and I've sacrificed time with my family to be here, that the only option I had was to ensure every second was maximised.

I met someone who had the exact same perspective on work while I was in the hospital. He is 30 years older than I am, and he had spent so much time focused on his career that he neglected his family and more importantly, himself. He was exhausted and felt that he had given everything to be able to support his family financially, that he couldn't give anything else more.

What about LOVE? What about TIME?

When we keep telling ourselves that we need to stretch our limits in order to satisfy people, this is where we've broken the system.

In order to care for others, one must care for themselves first. The best analogy for this is oxygen. Just like when the oxygen mask falls when the pressure drops in a plane. One must attend to themselves first before attending to others. Remember, OXYGEN.

The more you stretch yourself, the more you're suffocating. The people around you will be affected and you will further isolate yourself for afraid of being a burden to others.

Please, take care of yourself first. Your life depends on it.

This photo was taken by the Regent's Canal. I thought this piece to be unique as it seems as though life is coming up from the growing plant.

I am here genuinely,
Rachel W.

It is important to write down what you've spoken about in therapy because you want to be able to reflect on the reactions you've given, the events that trigger, and the preventive measures.

He told me to write a blog.
I gave my "now-considerably-usual-reply-to-everything", "I can't".
"Why not?"
"I just can't."
"But you write well."
"No, I don't! It'll be too much effort... I can't... I won't be able to keep it up... and i'll just end up disappointing people."

I have been living with a mind that has been telling me I'm never good enough for as long as I can remember. I've not taken much risk at all - avoiding all unnecessary risks rather than finding out if I could ever succeed in anything beyond my comfort zone.

At the age of 23, I thought that I had everything under control. My life was blossoming, in full force, I am at the ripe age of adulthood, I am incredibly energised and productive and I am going to change the world. My life is Grade A+. I am Miss Fantastic.

I worked long hours, believing that I was dedicating my life to research and for the greater good. I lived like a robot, hugely convinced that all I needed was my passion, food, water and sleep to be the happiest person in the universe.

I was clockwork - up at 7 in the morning, back from work at 8 in the evening, dinner and bed by 10 in the night. I loved what I did with a burning passion. I would spend all my time reading on my research topic. I worked and worked all day everyday. I talked about my subject with fire dancing in my eyes. Oh yes, my life has purpose! What greater pleasure in life is there than having your work and passion combined? There is nothing else I need!

Or so I thought, until one day I just stopped functioning.

There was no forewarning, no pit stops, no light at the end of the tunnel. It became completely pitch black too quickly. I was so scared as my mind spiralled out of control so violently, that I started to lose my memory. The fears and anxiety was so loud, it drained my confidence till I became unable to speak, a recluse, and finally hospitalised.

Looking back, I never paid any attention to the signs. The black dog showed up here and there throughout my childhood - each time I had a momentary flicker through the corner of my eye, it was there. Not being aware of the gloom hanging in the background, I was careless. I was credulous with my overachiever/perfectionist lifestyle - always occupied with learning something new, almost always being productive with my time, and whatever I did had to be worth it.

Whenever I felt unsatisfied with anything, the black dog accompanied me and it lingered long enough to make me feel a sense of dread and regret. During those times I felt so sorry for myself. As though I had just did something so bad that it would take a lifetime to forgive. It made me swear never to do anything like that again so that my time would always be fulfilling and productive. I didn't give myself much opportunities to explore and enjoy the things I could have loved because... I was convinced that I didn't have the time for it. As a young kid, I was incredibly hard on myself.

Stop to smell the roses, I never did. I thought if I gave enough water to allow it to grow into a large rose bush, I could probably then smell them everywhere. This rose bush is rather (cornily) equivalent to my achievements. I did not celebrate them, instead turning them as essentials to live by. If I did not achieve it, my life was over.

So, instead of motivating the reward system of my brain, I have been living off my threat system for a ludicrous amount of time. My crash was only a matter of time. The clock never stopped ticking, and the black dog appeared more and more frequently till I can no longer disregard it. It now follows me everywhere.

This photo was taken at the Columbia Road Flower Market in London. Spending time in nature and buying flowers to brighten up my room helped my recovery.

P.S. This post was originally written in May 2016 when I was still heavily struggling to understand my depression and accepting that I was actually sick. I was first hospitalised in Feb 2016.

Genuinely,
Rachel W.

I'm writing this post as an 'everyday' category because this is what I go through on a daily basis.

Celebrated my 25th birthday with my family and my favourite cupcakes from +Wondermilk :) I've made it this far because of the huge support and love from my family.

Let the festivities begin!

Today's the day I officially turn 25. I always thought of it to be strange that when the new year comes around, it literally means I get an entire year older. Also, having a birthday during this time of the year isn't so fun because the best parties are all in December when everyone's just so ready to be done with the year.

December is the best time to go all out! All the savings you've collected over the year, means you can now do a little extra spending. It's the time of the year when you show that you're successful and independent by rewarding your friends and family with Christmas gifts.

January is the best time of the year to start saving and to start being a little more sober and serious. It's the 'Monday' of the months. The weekend is over - it's back to work and back to school.

Restarting my PhD is daunting especially since I've started a side craft business while I was on break. I started my business with the idea that it would hopefully motivated me to maintain a creative side. With this etsy shop, I have every reason to work on creating beautiful hair pieces and actually have physical finished products - which I must say is very fulfilling!

Since I starting learning about stem cells during my undergraduate study, I had become rather obsessed to the point where I (sadly) felt I didn't need any social activities including proper sleep and recreation. I really loved what I was doing and the more time I spent on learning about stem cells, the more I felt committed to it as I've already spent all this time working on it. It was as though everything I've worked for in my life rested upon this career path.

Which honestly is an emotional trap. It isn't true that having a social life will kill my career, nor getting the rest I need to be able to work properly. I was a machine and I admired that aspect of myself. Until I burnt out, left exhausted physically and mentally. Forced to give in, that I realised I was being foolish.

I do hope though I would continue to have this burning passion to improve lives through stem cell research but this time with more focus on myself and my needs. I mean, wouldn't it be a waste of my knowledge if I didn't take care of myself? Would be a loss to the world. ;)

Not overrated,
Rachel W.

Today I'll be having a proper birthday dinner with my family. Not entirely sure how I feel about it all - slightly nervous perhaps, which I find to be an unusual reaction. Though maybe not since I have gained quite a bit of weight and it has made me feel really conscious about my body.

I've not had a family birthday celebration since I left for the United Kingdom in 2011. It has been five years, and I've always just settled for a simple normal day with some cake if I'm lucky.

Preparing for this dinner - deciding where to eat, who to invite, what to do, what cake to get - is actually quite a chore. Initially I had planned to invite a couple of friends round to the house and have a small get together with takeaway food. Turns out, my mum is not entirely keen on a home idea and finds it much easier to just have a meal out. *inserts appropriately timed panic attack here*

From that point on, I just felt this was way too much planning. I'd rather just have a simple dinner and call it a day. We can eat anywhere, and I'm not fussy. Please don't let this event make it to my list of "good places to have a meltdown".

It has been decided that we would go for a Japanese meal because one can never go wrong with unagi. If there is just one thing I'm allowed to eat for the rest of my life, unagi would be it. No doubts, no questions. In fact, I volunteer!

I'm back in Malaysia at the moment sorting out immigration stuff, and I really miss my crafts. Paper crafts, wool crafts, jewellery making, basically anything. Pinterest has been an amazing source of tutorials and ideas for home made crafts, and spending year 2016 away from work just to do recreational things has been honest-to-god therapeutic. All my tools and supplies are back in London though, so I can't quite wait to go back to it soon. Hopefully then I can start posting photos of my small etsy business and handmade crafts.

For now, I'll leave you with a photo of one of my finest handmade pieces.


Genuinely and lovingly,
Rachel W.

The Lunar New Year is just round the corner and I think it's rather funny that everywhere we've been is entirely filled with chickens. Even to the very last detail of a uniquely-Malaysian special "Rooster" Krispy Kreme. They say if you can't beat them, join them.

One of the things I wanted to talk about today is allowing myself to truly be who I'm supposed to be. This includes letting things unfold as well as taking steps to assert myself.

Recently, I've been feeling unsure about where I stand in regards to my career, my relationships and my role as a human being. I feel inadequate, which is not a feeling that I'm familiar with for the past 23 years. I have always been someone with a strong sense of purpose but as I get closer to my career aspirations, the steps seem to get wobblier and this worries me.

It has made me doubt all the choices I've made in the past, including those contributing to my success today. I feel fickle and unprepared. Every physical step closer is an emotional step backwards from my destination. This has been a confusing period. I guess this is what "quarter life crisis" feels like. Who am I, and what have I achieved thus far?

The pressures of having at least 10 years of work experiences when you're only 9 years old is real. I'm 25 and I'm wondering how I've done anything to make an impact on this 7 billion-person-planet. There ought to be an age restriction when you're allowed to start worrying about self-significance. 50 years old sounds reasonable. Mid life crisis, eh?

Disclaimer: the following hypothesis is justified by my scientific mindset that has been raised through many years of biological science trainings. I think that the term "quarter life crisis" only came about because people have started living longer lives (up to a 100 years old). Bingo! Centuries ago, people lived to a ripe age of 50, and 25 was still (and always have been) the crisis point but was then known as "mid-life" crises (because what the hell was "quarter" life as that would make you 15, whut.)

I love it when I have sudden epiphanies like that. It's like a stroke of genius, without the genius. Yeah, just a stroke basically.

Genuinely and unfiltered,
Rachel W.

I'm sprawled out on my bed on the first week of 2017 (this was not what I had in mind, I definitely imagined a desk involved) attempting to restart my blogging engine for the nth time of my 25 years on this planet. Consistency has made it to the top of my list! ...alongside 99 problems cleverly hidden behind the name of 'anxiety'.

I've always had a knack for writing! Though I'd be lying if I denied having a knack for anything new, really. And being good at everything is a bit of an overkill. I'll aim for something a little more reasonable. *shyly nibbles humble pie*

So, it all begin somewhere! Just like everything! Was it the egg or the chicken who came first? No one knows, but everything is made of atoms! That's what we know for sure (or at least what I was made to believe throughout my scientific education).

Hello, I am a full time PhD student trudging my way through ridiculous tuition fees, and the equally ridiculous cost of living in London. As long as I lumber one heavy foot in front of the other, no amount of pressure will knock me over! "Huzzah! My body is as still as a mountain." Nama-stayyyyy-in-place-cause-yo-mama-brought-you-to-this-beautiful-earth.

I wish I could tell a story of how everything went according to plan, but no great person or exciting story ever came from perfect scenarios. As I quote Mulan, "The flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and beautiful of all".

*mic drop*

Genuinely,
Rachel W.

I have recently started blogging for another site. The site is co-authored by another 2 brilliant scientists (well, almost!) and we hope to give you 3 different perspectives of life as a student pursuing scientific research.

Read my latest post here: