Hello everyone, and welcome to Adventures in Academia, the podcast for older-than-average university students. I'm your host, Kristie Bradfield.

As I'm recording this, I have only two weeks left of my undergraduate degree. It is really mindblowing knowing that this part of my academic life is almost over. It has been a long time coming, and I have learned so much over the last eight years. I have my applications in for Psychology Honours next year, so fingers crossed I get some good news in mid-December. 

So, today, I'm talking about fear. Fear was a near-constant companion for me throughout this degree. I was scared of a lot of things. I was afraid of doing on-campus exams and scared of being around a lot of people. I was petrified of doing research methods units because I knew they involved math, and in high school, I was terrible at math. I was scared of getting assignment marks back and not doing well. I was afraid I would get to the end of this degree and not know what to do next. My biggest fears centred around me not being good enough and being too old to study. Fear really held me back in a lot of ways, and looking back on everything now, I wish I could go back in time and tell me from ten years ago not to worry so much - that things would work out. My world would get so much bigger, and I would be okay when it did. 

In reality, overcoming my fears hasn't been easy. It has taken me a decade to get to this point, and while I've made massive improvements, there's still work to do. 

So, how did I overcome my fears? The first thing I did was go to therapy. The cliched answer, but it's true. Therapy gave me many of the tools I needed to support my reintegration back into the world. It was difficult for me to leave the house for many years. I didn't go into a shopping centre for a good five years. There were only a few places where I felt safe. So, in therapy, we started with small walks around the neighbourhood. My wonderful psychologist and I would walk for a few minutes; she would talk to me, distract me, and bring my attention to flowers or birds. Then, we would turn around and walk back to her office. I can still remember what those walks felt like. It felt like my heart would beat out of my chest; it was difficult to maintain slow, purposeful breaths because I was afraid I would have a panic attack. One of my homework assignments was to walk to my letterbox each day. Even that felt hard. Over time, with a lot of patience, I felt more and more comfortable being out. Fast forward a few years, and I go out all the time. I occasionally feel the old stirrings of fear, but I can usually breathe through the worst of it and get on with my day.

I couldn't have done anything without the solid foundation that therapy gave me. It helped me to get through a lot of darkness, which brings me to the second thing that helped me overcome fear.

My Mum and my sister-in-law died in the same week of June 2022, so last year. I lost my sister-in-law, Bec, on June 9th as I sat my Abnormal Psychology exam. I came out of the exam to the news that she had passed, and devastated isn't the right word to describe what that felt like. She was 40, and it was tough for me to reconcile that someone so full of life could be gone. A week later, almost to the minute, I lost my Mum. It felt incredibly unreal and very unfair to lose her, and I don't think I have really started to process her being gone. I think, in a way, I might have blocked out the pain of losing her, dissociated from it, perhaps, but I know at some point in the future, I will need to really look at these losses and feel them more fully. That's not to say I've ignored them or tried to move past their deaths, but I don't think I've allowed them to settle in my soul yet. My Mum and Bec had different forms of cancer, which affected them in different ways. My Mum was diagnosed in 2018, and Bec was diagnosed a year later. Both had strength and resolve, and both wanted desperately to live. They gave me more than they could ever realise because they inspired me to stop letting things hold me back. Anything good I do in my life from now is partly to honour them. I'm incredibly aware of how privileged I am to be alive, so I make a conscious choice each day to live my life, not just exist. Life is very short, and I'm determined to channel these immeasurable losses into creating a beautiful and meaningful life.

There is a wealth of research that highlights the personal transformation that can occur after losses. One study I've read recently sums my experience up. Alan Pope studied people in their midlife who lost their parents. He found that the study participants developed an increased sense of purpose and meaning, transcendence of egoistic concern, a greater sense of interconnectedness to others, and deeper sensitivity and compassion. The participants in Pope's study felt their parents' death changed them fundamentally. 

I've felt these fundamental changes. Five things have changed for me since losing my Mum and sister-in-law. These changes have ultimately helped me to face my fears.

Number one, I've found that my self-concept isn't rigid, or at least it doesn't have to be. You don't have to hold the same views about yourself forever. Your self-concept is malleable. Some days, I feel like I'll always continue to grow. The world is big, bright, and wonderful, and I am excited to be alive. On other days, it feels like I've shrunk. But I've realised that as I do more things and expose myself to different situations, experiences, challenges and people, I challenge my ideas about myself. I've started to outgrow certain perceptions or expectations that I've held about who I am as a person. And while I may take a few steps backwards one day, these few steps don't mean I've failed. I can get back up and inch forward again, and that is a big change.

Number two, I say yes to things. I say yes to things and follow through on them, even when they scare me. I have a pink sticky note attached to my monitor that says, "I can do hard things." It's a constant reminder for me, and it's tethered to a very specific memory that was the hardest moment of my life: watching my Mum pass. I can do hard things. I've realised that if I can make it through this past year and a half, I can make it through anything. That's not to say that I never feel fear. I do. Every week, I hear those alarm bells ringing in my head, trying to warn me against doing things that feel uncomfortable. The difference is now I don't allow my life to be ruled by false alarms. 

Number three, I connect. Making connections and feeling like I belong or that I am a part of something has helped me. My studies and my university experience have fundamentally changed because of these connections. I make a point of saying yes to opportunities or actively seeking out ways that I can connect. Being a peer mentor has been a brilliant example of this. I can connect with other students, and my experiences can help others. Making this podcast is another way I connect with people like me.

Number four, I'm kind to myself. I've been through a lot in the last few years. On top of the losses, I was also diagnosed with lipo-lymphoedema, which is a disease that causes abnormal fat distribution, fluid retention and chronic pain. The downside is that the only way to get rid of the diseased fat is through a special liposuction procedure. You can't diet or exercise away the diseased fat. So, for many years, I internalised a lot of blame and guilt because I couldn't figure out what was wrong with my body. I was diagnosed in 2020, and while my life has changed a lot since this diagnosis, it wasn't until losing my Mum and Bec that I really started to practice kindness and compassion for myself. I still have pain, but I can walk up a flight of steps now, and I celebrate my ability to do that. I celebrate being able to meet with old friends. I celebrate being able to walk around the supermarket. I am thankful that I'm still here, that my body is still functioning and that I am doing what I can to continue to improve. I love who I am, and I never thought I would be able to say that.

Number five, I have let go of the need to anticipate every possible outcome. When my psychologist retired at the end of last year, she gave me a beautiful Reclining Buddha statue. She told me that her hope for me in the future was that I allow myself to let go and just experience life. I really took this to heart. I have the Buddha on my desk; it constantly reminds me that I can't anticipate every possible outcome for every situation and that it's a waste of my precious time and energy to try. 

All of these things, these fundamental changes, have helped me to move past fears that were holding me in place. If you're listening to this, there may be something that you've been scared to do, something that you've been putting off because you're afraid of the outcome, or you're worried you're not ready for what may result. My advice is just to do it. Take a deep breath and move forward. Don't let whatever holds you back keep you where you are for a second longer. Life is short, and by embracing change and facing your fears, you can truly make the most of the time you have.

Book review

In last month's episode, I mentioned that I was reading a book by Kerri Rawson called A Serial Killer's Daughter. What a fascinating, harrowing memoir it is. 

Kerri's Dad is notorious serial killer Dennis Radar, better known as BTK, and her memoir is divided into two parts. The first half focuses on her childhood and her life before her father's arrest—the second half deals with the aftermath for both her and her family. Rawson's recollections of what appeared to be a very normal childhood with a reasonably normal father make it all the more chilling. 

One of the standout strengths to me was Rawson's exploration of her own psychological and emotional turmoil. She shares her experiences with depression, PTSD, and her struggles trying to reconcile her love for her father with the crimes he was charged with. Rawson details her journey through therapy and her reconnection with her faith.

This book won't give you an understanding of criminal psychology; that's not its purpose. There are plenty of other books about Dennis Radar that could deep dive into the psychological aspects of who he was and what he did. What this book will give you is a peek into a rarely explored aspect of true crime stories: the trauma and suffering experienced by the family members of notorious criminals. For every violent crime, there is a constellation of victims.

Rawson's memoir is a powerful example of the human spirit's ability to overcome even the most harrowing experiences. It serves as a touching reminder that hope and healing can emerge from even the darkest of circumstances and that one's capacity for resilience is truly limitless.

Thank you so much for joining me for this month's podcast. I hope that something has resonated with you. As always, I've left links to the research in today's episode in the show notes. You can find them at adventuresinacademia.com

I would love to hear from you if you're an older-than-average student. You can send a voice memo about anything to do with university study to memos@adventuresinacademia.com. And while you're at it, don't forget to subscribe to the podcast. 

In the next episode of Adventures in Academia, I'll be sharing my tips on making the most of your time as an online student. I've been an online student for the last eight years, and I have so much to share about how to make it work. I hope you consider listening in. Until then, happy studying!

Research

Pope, A. (2005). Personal Transformation in Midlife Orphanhood: An Empirical Phenomenological Study. OMEGA - Journal of Death and Dying, 51(2), 107-123. https://doi.org/10.2190/F7D7-5DJR-BEVL-17TP