Realizing my academic advisor/boss was pocketing roughly half of my grant money during a ‘fully funded’ MA. My tuition bills came to his department because that program was the source of my funding. He only paid one, for my very first semester.
I still tried to push through working two jobs in addition to my TA/coaching positions but couldn’t keep up with my coursework, lost ~50lb, and was the most depressed I’ve ever been. Finished my credits but couldn’t pay the backed tuition (that I thought the departmental grant was covering) to walk.
He was retiring after 30+ years and his wife, also retiring, was the dean in charge so no disciplinary action was taken. They have a gorgeous home on the coast and both drive really nice cars despite only ever working at this NFP institution. I used to drive by it to tutor the kids of other rich folks in their neighborhood and would sometimes cry and always think about knocking on his door to be like ‘WHY?! What was worth this?!’
Part that hurt the most was I was already into my chosen doctorate program and had only taken this position to defer that and paying my student loans. I needed to save some money before starting my PhD, and thought I could do that competing and coaching a sport I love(d) and in which I was nationally and internationally ranked. Because I would be a student still I wouldn’t run out the window to start paying back my debt. This Uni was far less rigorous than my undergrad, where I had managed 20+ credit hours and competition so I was never really worried about the rigor of the classes. Turns out it really doesn’t matter how hard a course is if you’re depressed as hell and have no time to do the reading.
Because my tuition went unpaid I passed the ‘6mo out of school’ grace period and was required to start paying back my loans which I definitely couldn’t afford while studying (getting the first bill the summer before year 2 is how I knew something was horribly wrong - still waiting for the Dept. of Ed official I spoke to at the time to get back to me or return my calls). Apparently this happened to a few others, but those folks had rich parents to bail them out.
I come from a poor family of immigrants. and I had already worked multiple jobs through undergrad (and my ass off competing every weekend) to get where I was. It felt like I lost everything I had been working towards and let down a family that sacrificed so much to put me in good schools and believe in my intelligence. It was soul crushing. If my brother didn’t rely on my sending money every month for his meds I would probably followed through on the suicidal ideation.
I have a decent job in software now. It’s especially hard to deal with the shame when my coworkers call me out for speaking 5+ languages, coding despite not concentrating in CS (both pretty common in my discipline) or having super esoteric bits of knowledge related to my intended dissertation topic... in my early twenties. I haven’t told people about what happened, just that I dropped out of grad school. They do dumb shit like call me a ‘genius’ when it was actually just a lot of hard work that I thought I was doing to get my PhD and a TT position by thirty. On my worst days at work this baggage felt pointless and alienating.
I started meds for my depression when I moved (YMMV but do you people) and began seeing my psych to talk about this as well. Hallelujah for my decent job’s more than decent insurance. She’s a badass who helped me 1)forgive my 20y/o self for something that wasn’t my fault and 2)not see this as some magical death sentence to my years of subject matter expertise and academic dreams. Part of that was also finally addressing a level of depression I just thought was normal. Spoiler alert: valuing yourself is a much better reason to live. Any clarity I have now I owe to her phenomenal skill as a care provider. Three cheers for quality mental healthcare, it’s sadly rare but I think everyone deserves it.
With a lot of help from said therapist, I recently opened up to my partner about what really happened and how I’m feeling at work (we met competing in college and got together just after I was supposed to graduate the MA, he thought I had just said ‘fuck it’, didn’t press the issue, and let me crash while I found an engineering job to pay all the bills). Total rock star and has been the best thing in my life and a big help getting my confidence back. Constantly reminds me to feed the creative side that I worry will die before I can get back to academia. Also continues to educate me about this strange concept called ‘fun’ that I thought was just those lucky times I got to work on my own research. Even started learning German so we could speak it together and planned a trip involving a lot of great, nerdy nerdy fun.
I’m still struggling to work up the nerve and funds to reapply. It’s mostly the confidence issue but I also worry because many folks who wrote my recommendations the first time are now senile or dead. That’s my discipline for you... Still most things worth doing are a struggle and being more open about how awful this was brought me back in contact with a few folks I worked with there or at my undergrad who are teaching. Many have reached out to say the struggle is real and encourage me or chat about cool work. Some have even reached out saying they had no idea it got even harder for me and offering to recommend me for any program (proverbial grinch heart growth - academia is a very competitive place). I feel like I have an amazing life atc and am very hopeful for the future. Being a professor is still my dream and as my wonderful partner reminds me those can be ‘deferred but not denied’.
If any of y’all are working towards a big dream and feel like a perpetual dumpster fire, burn baby burn! You can do it! Just keep swimming! Okay maybe that one doesn’t work with a fire analogy... Point is: You are tougher and brighter because of your hustle. You can pick up insights others won’t. A non-linear path to your dream can still get you there. If you need to take time away from a ‘normal’ path, for whatever reason, do it and don’t let anyone (even your inner demons) convince you your dream is dead because you did. Keep your head up and surround yourself with people who love and challenge you to rise. I believe in our resilience.
tl:dr Advisor and Wife with a lot of clout stole my MA grant money. I had no safety net and was already stretched thin from undergrad debt so left with no paper and awful depression. Now getting my game back with the help of a good psych, an amazing partner, and cool friends because I’m still the same 100% unfiltered academic dweeb but stronger and that dream is only over when I say it is.