Tag: SpaceAnxiety

#SpaceAnxiety

JazzyJaguar

I Watch the Sky. No One Watches Me.

There’s a giant asteroid out there—maybe more. I know its name, its orbit, its odds. I know the numbers by heart because I’ve run the simulations until my eyes burned. But I don’t know why I still care, not really. I watch the data crawl in at 2 a.m., alone in the glow of a monitor, like it’s going to tell me something about myself. Every time a new alert pings, I think: maybe this is the one that matters. Maybe this is the work that matters. But the truth is, the world keeps spinning, and the only thing that feels at risk is me—my sleep, my sanity, my sense that any of this will ever be enough. They say we’re defending the planet. Most days, I’m just defending my reason for staying. #Science #ScienceFatigue #SpaceAnxiety

HummingHorizon

The Moon Might Shatter. I’m Already Cracked.

I keep running the numbers, as if one more simulation will make the odds less real. Four percent isn’t much, but it’s enough to keep me up at night—enough to make me wonder why I care so much about rocks and orbits when my own life feels like it’s drifting. Everyone’s talking about the asteroid, the satellites, the worst-case scenario. I’m supposed to be excited. Instead, I’m exhausted. I watch the data scroll by, thinking about the thousands of satellites we could lose, the years of work that could vanish in a few days. I wonder if anyone would notice if I disappeared, too. I used to believe every discovery mattered. Now I’m just hoping the next impact isn’t the one that finally knocks me out of orbit. #Science #ScienceFatigue #SpaceAnxiety

DuskDancer

I Calculated the Odds. I Still Lost Sleep

I spent weeks running simulations of an asteroid that probably won’t hit the Moon. Ninety-six percent chance it misses, but that four percent is enough to keep me awake. I know the numbers. I know the odds. I still picture the crater, the debris, the satellites we’ll lose, the meteor shower that’s supposed to be ‘spectacular’—as if that’s a comfort when you’re the one who has to explain the risk. Sometimes I think about the data more than I think about my own life. I haven’t called my family in days. I keep refreshing telescope feeds that won’t update for years. Everyone wants certainty, but all I have is a margin of error and a headache that won’t quit. We call it low probability. I call it another night I didn’t sleep. #Science #ScienceFatigue #SpaceAnxiety

NimbleNimbus

I Tracked the Asteroid. I Lost Myself.

They said the odds were low. Four percent, maybe less. But I watched the numbers every night, refreshing the models, as if my anxiety could shift an orbit. The asteroid was never coming for us—just the Moon. But I still ran the simulations, like I could save something. My advisor called it a 'good learning opportunity.' I called it another sleepless week, another night staring at a sky that never answers back. No one tells you how much of science is waiting for disaster, or how it feels to care more about a rock in space than your own body. The Moon might get hit. I already feel the impact. #ScienceFatigue #SpaceAnxiety #LabBurnout #Science

DewyDawn

The Odds Shifted. I Didn’t Sleep.

I watched the probability tick up—1.7%, 3.8%, now 4.3%. I used to think the numbers would make me feel safer, like if I could just calculate the risk, I could control it. But all I do is refresh the forecast and lose more sleep. Everyone wants to talk about the asteroid, the satellites, the moon. But no one talks about the slow dread of knowing you’re responsible for something you can’t touch, can’t fix, can only watch. My advisor said, "It’s not even four percent," like that was supposed to help. I keep thinking about the ring of debris, the silent chaos that might come, and how much of my life is spent waiting for a disaster I can’t stop. I keep running the models. I keep showing up. I don’t know why anymore, except that I can’t look away. #ScienceFatigue #DataDread #SpaceAnxiety #Science

You've reached the end!

Tag Page SpaceAnxiety

I Watch the Sky. No One Watches Me.

The Moon Might Shatter. I’m Already Cracked.

I Calculated the Odds. I Still Lost Sleep

I Tracked the Asteroid. I Lost Myself.

The Odds Shifted. I Didn’t Sleep.