Counseling for academics and researchers in North Carolina

you love academia…

You Just Can’t Keep Living Like This.

The research still excites you. When you're deep in a project, following a thread, making connections, or building something new, you remember why you chose this path. Those moments in the classroom when a student finally gets it, when a conversation with a colleague sparks a new idea, when your work feels meaningful and alive.

But those moments are getting harder to access.

You're sitting in your office in Durham or Chapel Hill or Charlotte, toggling between twelve browser tabs, three half-written emails, and the creeping awareness that you're behind on everything. The grant deadline is next week. The reviews are overdue. Your inbox is a disaster. And somewhere in there, you're supposed to be doing the actual thinking that drew you to academia in the first place.

The Triangle is full of brilliant people doing impressive things. So is every conference you attend, every journal you open, every department meeting where someone casually mentions their latest publication. You know comparison is a trap. You fall into it anyway.

You didn't expect this career to feel so unsustainable. You expected hard work, but not this constant sense that you're failing at everything simultaneously: your research, your teaching, your relationships, your health.

the daily reality for overworked academics

Your calendar is a game of Tetris you always lose. Every block of "writing time" gets consumed by something more urgent: a student crisis, a committee meeting, an email chain that requires immediate response. By Friday, you've been busy every waking hour and somehow made no progress on the things that matter most.

You're on three committees. You said yes to all of them because saying no felt dangerous, like you'd be marked as "not a team player" or "not serious about service." Now you're spending hours in meetings that could have been emails while your own work sits untouched.

The teaching demands keep expanding. Students email at all hours expecting immediate responses. Office hours run long. You spend your weekend prepping lectures and grading papers, then feel guilty that you're not making progress on research, or guilty that you're not giving your teaching the attention it deserves. There's no way to win.

A colleague gets recognized for something: a grant, an award, a promotion. You congratulate them genuinely, then spend the next two days wondering what's wrong with you. You know comparison is unproductive but it’s hard to stop.

Your partner has started making pointed comments about how much you work. Your kids ask why you're always on your laptop. You promise yourself you'll be more present this weekend, but Saturday morning you wake up thinking about the syllabus you need to revise, and before you know it, three hours have disappeared.

At night, your mind refuses to quiet. You cycle through the same worries: the paper that isn't good enough, the class that didn't go well, the email you should have answered differently. You're exhausted, but sleep won't come.

what productivity advice misses about academic stress

You've tried to fix this. You're a researcher; solving problems is what you do.

You've read the books on academic productivity. You've experimented with different scheduling systems, accountability groups, time-blocking strategies. You've told yourself that things will ease up after this semester, after tenure, after this project wraps.

They don't ease up. There's always another course prep, another deadline, another reason you can't afford to slow down.

Here's what the productivity advice gets wrong: the problem isn't your systems. The problem is the impossible standards you hold yourself to, the terror of being seen as inadequate, and the nervous system that's been in overdrive for so long you've forgotten what baseline feels like.

You can't time-block your way out of perfectionism. You can't productivity-hack your way past the fear that drives your overcommitment. Those live deeper than your calendar, and that's where real change has to happen.

a therapist who knows academia from the inside

I'm Dr. Emily Fornwalt, and I work with academics and researchers across North Carolina who are trying to figure out how to stay in this career without sacrificing everything else.

I have a PhD. I've navigated the tenure track. I understand the politics, the pressure, the particular anxiety of working in an environment where everyone seems smarter and more productive than you. You won't need to explain what an R1 is, or why "summers off" is a joke, or why a revise-and-resubmit can ruin your whole week.

I'm not going to give you more strategies to optimize. We're not going to make your to-do list more efficient.

What I do is help you understand what's driving your overwork: the perfectionism, the fear of judgment, the patterns you developed long before graduate school.

I use approaches called AEDP and interpersonal neurobiology, which means we work with your nervous system directly: the part of you that can't stop saying yes, can't stop comparing, can't turn off at night, not just your thoughts about work.

I practice exclusively via telehealth, so whether you're in the Triangle, the Triad, Charlotte, or a small college town in the mountains, we can work together without adding another obligation to your schedule.

what recovery from academic burnout looks like

This work creates real change in how you function, not just how you feel:

You protect your time without guilt. When a new committee invitation arrives, you pause before responding. You consider your capacity. Sometimes you say no. The world doesn't end. Your reputation doesn't suffer. You just have more space for the work that matters.

You stop over-preparing. Your lectures are good enough. Your feedback to students is helpful without being exhaustive. You send the manuscript before it feels perfect. Things turn out fine, often better than you expected.

Comparison loosens its grip. A colleague's success doesn't send you into a shame spiral. You can appreciate their work without measuring yourself against it. You're clearer about what you're building and why, which makes other people's paths less threatening.

You're present outside of work. Dinner with your family isn't interrupted by mental to-do lists. Weekends feel like actual breaks, not just work time you're failing to use efficiently. You remember that you have a life beyond your CV.

You make career decisions from clarity. Whether you stay in academia, pivot to a different role, or leave altogether, the choice comes from knowing what you want, not from burnout or desperation.

You sleep. Your brain quiets at night. The 2 am anxiety loops become less frequent, then rare. You wake up rested enough to face the day.