Survival Mode

https://youtu.be/cn9n1D6FvyE

Lately I've been thinking about what it feels like to live in survival mode.

For me, survival mode isn't just about being busy. It's the feeling that there's always another hurdle to clear, another expectation to meet, another opportunity that has to be earned instead of assumed.

As a Black man in America, I sometimes feel a heightened sense of pressure to prove myself. When I think about our history—slavery, segregation, discrimination, and the barriers that have existed for generations—I can't ignore the weight that history carries. Even though progress has been made, I still see inequities today, and sometimes that creates a feeling that I have to work twice as hard just to show that I'm capable.

Whether every situation is influenced by race or not, that's the pressure I personally feel.

It's a pressure that makes me want to prepare more, study harder, and compete harder.

This world is competitive.

People often say, "You don't have anything to prove."

I don't completely agree with that.

I think we all have something to prove—not because our worth depends on other people's approval, but because opportunities often go to the people who demonstrate preparation, consistency, and results.

That's the reality of graduate school.

That's the reality of engineering.

That's the reality of research.

That's the reality of the job market.

You either continue improving, or someone else is ready to take your place.

That doesn't discourage me.

It motivates me.

At the same time, I've realized that competition isn't the only challenge.

Trust is another one.

Recently I lost someone I thought would remain part of my professional life.

When I stepped away from the I-Corps program after the faculty member who originally brought me into the project also stepped away, our communication ended.

That hurt.

I don't know exactly why things changed, and I can't know everything another person is thinking.

What I do know is that relationships sometimes have seasons.

Some people stay.

Some people leave.

As painful as that is, I've learned I can't build my future around trying to hold onto every relationship.

Sometimes the healthiest thing I can do is let people go and keep moving forward.

That isn't bitterness.

It's acceptance.

I've also been reflecting on something else.

Sometimes I spend so much energy wondering whether other people believe in me that I forget the most important question:

Do I believe in myself enough to keep going?

That's the question I have to answer every morning.

Not whether everyone supports me.

Not whether everyone understands me.

But whether I'm willing to keep showing up.

Another challenge I've been facing is my health.

My therapist has recommended adjustments to my medication, and I'm trying to figure out what works best for me.

I'm also dealing with digestive issues, and that's frustrating because I want to feel healthy enough to perform at my best academically and professionally.

Instead of reacting impulsively, I want to make thoughtful decisions about my health. That may mean changing when I eat, what I eat, or talking with my healthcare providers about the side effects I'm experiencing so I can find an approach that supports both my physical health and my academic goals.

Taking care of my health isn't separate from my goals.

It's part of reaching them.

If I want to succeed in graduate school, pass my comprehensive exam, become an engineer, and eventually earn my Ph.D., then I have to take care of the person who's trying to accomplish those things.

I've realized that surviving isn't enough anymore.

I don't want to spend my life simply reacting to pressure.

I want to build a life that reflects discipline, resilience, and purpose.

That means studying when I don't feel like studying.

Resting when my body genuinely needs rest.

Taking my health seriously.

Learning from disappointment instead of letting it define me.

Competing with everything I've got while remembering that my character matters just as much as my achievements.

I don't know exactly what every obstacle in front of me will look like.

I do know this:

I'm still here.

I'm still learning.

I'm still growing.

And every challenge I overcome becomes another reason to believe that I can overcome the next one.

That's the mindset I'm choosing to carry forward—not a mindset of fear, but one of determination.

I can't control every circumstance.

But I can control how I prepare, how I respond, and how hard I'm willing to work.

That's where my energy belongs.