Monday, July 31, 2017

Technology and Choice and Plagiarized Quotes

"Cultural and technological evolution have outstripped biological evolution, putting enormous stress on the human animal - particularly those in the business and professional classes, who are most driven by status competition and the burgeoning pressures of capitalism."

There are some technologists who believe that the pace of innovation - taken for granted by most of us but lightning fast in terms of human evolution - is far outpacing the ability of the mind to adapt to it.  For most of our existence things changed very slowly or not at all - it has only been in the last hundred years that things have gotten dizzyingly fast, making a lot of us feel stressed and out of control.  Personal computers have only been around for 20 or 25 years, for instance, yet now we have cell phones that have more processing power than the NASA computers used for the first space launch, and I am NOT making that up.

There's also a school of thought that all of the personal choices we have and the opportunities to remake our lives in almost any way we can envision may contribute to some of our feelings of anxiety.  In the not so distant past we didn't have the ability to escape our lot in life - no matter how dismal our prospects we knew how our lives were going to turn out.  This might have caused physical discomfort but tamped down the tendency to anxiety - you didn't have to feel bad that you weren't living up to your potential because your potential was nonexistent.  

This quote is from a man who wrote a book based on a diary he kept during his 61st year: 

"A few years later, in my late 50s, when I could no longer pretend I wasn’t heading into the last turn, or for the back nine, or toward the clubhouse (someone should make a list of all the euphemisms we employ to denote the onset of aging) - after another cough that wouldn’t go away, after the onset of the existential angst that seemed to set in after 55, and especially after my parents died - I realized that I had forgotten the instances that made turning 50 feel unique."

What does my anxiety buy me?  I'm not afraid of failure or what anyone thinks of me.  It is currently the big mystery in my life.

Sunday, July 30, 2017

Kenner Is Still Talking To Me

I am getting older - loss and deterioration is going to be an increasingly larger part of my life.
I'm trying to balance the physical facts of aging with the psychology of aging.  Ken lived in a Catholic retirement community and he went to the funerals whenever a resident died, whether or not he knew them well.  

"I go to a lot more funerals these days than christenings," he chuckled.

That guy never bitched about getting older.  He did it with dignity, not screaming into the dark abyss like me.

Ken, mom, and dad - I'm open to letting my grief manifest itself.  I'm not demanding it show itself and I'm not going to get mad at it.

I release my anxiety into the universe.  I will learn how to sit quietly with my anxiety.  It isn't my enemy.  It isn't trying to kill me.  It just wants to be heard.

My brain has always been a problem.

Hello, anxiety - good morning.

Synonyms for resilient - bendable, flexible, strong.  Antonyms - brittle, fragile.  I think the idea is to keep getting up off the mat, refusing to succumb to negative thinking.  I say again - it takes on a life of its own, that negative shit.

Saturday, July 29, 2017

Globophobia? I Think So!

Resilient - Able to endure tribulation without cracking.
Acceptance:  Belief in something.
Panophobia:  The fear of everything.
Oudenophobia: The fear of nothing.  (Actually the fear of the number zero which many equate with nothingness).

Mental illness leading to a physical ailment is incredibly common.  Psychosomatic disorders are physical symptoms that mask emotional distress.  It has been a relief to understand this.  As a scientist I thought that if it couldn't be proved, if there wasn't a root cause that could be weighed and measured and studied, then it was bullshit.  

A few examples of how wrong I was include blushing, where an emotion (embarrassment) causes a physical reaction (surge of chemicals which cause blood vessels in the face to vasodilate).  Tears are a physiological response to an emotion.  I remember reading accounts of surgery done with no anesthesia to gravely injured soldiers who had been given a placebo that they were told was morphine when in fact it was a syringe of saline.  The mind took over and controlled the body.

Here's a quote from "Psychology Today:" Somatization is defined as the tendency to experience psychological distress in the form of physical symptoms.  Astoundingly, in one study of 1000 patients presenting over a 3-year period with 567 new complaints of 14 common symptoms (including chest pain, fatigue, dizziness, headache, edema, back pain, shortness of breath, insomniaabdominal pain, numbness, impotence, weight loss, cough, and constipation) a physical cause was found only 16% of the time.  This doesn't mean that only 16% of all these complaints had a physical cause and the other 84% had a psychosomatic cause; rather, it means that 84% of the symptoms had no known physical cause.  We still don't know what causes migraines, for example, but that doesn't mean we should conclude migraines have only a psychological cause.

You are by no means obligated to read the following list which I took ver batim from Wikipedia.  There's some pretty good shit in here, though.   I definitely have frigophobia.  This is NOT, as you might think, fear of Frigidaires.  And a shout out to kosioihexekontahexaphobia just for the sheer ballsiness of the word.  Finally, I might add that if you have a fear of buttons or of the number 4 then you're not well.  The number 4?  What the hell is wrong with a solid four?

B

C

D

E

F

G

H

I

  • Ichthyophobia – fear of fish, including fear of eating fish, or fear of dead fish

K

  • Koumpounophobia – fear of buttons

L

M

N

O

P

R

S

T

W

X



Hope I Die Before I Get Old

It has been interesting to gauge the reaction of people when I relate the events of that lousy one year period.

My mama died, and I'm a mama's boy.
My sponsor of 25 years - a man that I was closer to than any other man on earth - died.  Six hours before my mama died.  I wasn't even able to make it to his funeral or wake because I had family matters to take care of.
My papa dies, and slowly and painfully, submerged in a sea of alcohol.
And my cat died.  I don't believe I've given this its proper due.  This was an animal that was a daily presence in my life for 18 or 19 years.  And as is the way of cats this animal picked up on the fact that I initially didn't like cats and glommed onto me like super glue.  I couldn't turn around with tripping over her.  As soon as I sat down she jumped on my lap.  To SuperK's everlasting consternation.
Finally, I turned 60.  I know that it's just a number but it's the number that a lot of people see as an irrevocable passage into old age.  I have been joking about being old for a while but now I really am pretty old.

That's a tough 14 months.  Every time I was getting off the mat I took another left hook, all while I was trying to figure out how to mourn appropriately.

Will you still need me, when I'm 64?

Friday, July 28, 2017

Centered in the Mind

"Your parents - anxious, overprotective mother and alcoholic, emotionally absent father—were a classically anxiety-producing combination."

Woo, boy, this quote is a doozy for me.

I'm also fascinated by the phenomenon of a psychosomatic illness.  "Somatic" is an ancient Greek word which means "of the body."  Psycho is a modern word describing people like me, people who are healthy but act like they aren't.  So "psychosomatic" means an ailment or a symptom which centers in the mind.

I'm intrigued that so many illnesses and medical complaints don't have any organic cause.  That is - they exist only in the mind.  This, of course, does not mean that the physical complaints aren't real.  A simple example is anxiety causing muscle tension leading to migraines or a sore neck.  The neck is indeed sore but the problem is what's going on inside the head.

Doesn't everything center in the mind?  It's not like the arm feels anything if you insert a needle into your flesh - a signal goes up to the brain which relays a message back down to the arm along the lines of:"Hey.  Stop that."

I read about a study that attempted to quantify anxiety in infants.  The technique was for a mother to set her baby down in a room full of new toys.  The baby explores while checking in from time to time to make sure mom is still there.  Then, the mother leaves the room.  Some babies cry immediately; some begin to whimper after a while; and some don't seem to give a shit.  The next step in the experiment is to have a stranger enter the room and check the reaction which pretty follow the same trajectory.  So there are some babies that cry when mom leaves and cry when someone new enters, and some babies that keep on playing, impervious to loss and threat.

I think the new toys would have made me anxious.

Again . . . I wonder what benefit I'm getting out of the anxiety?  I'm no longer afraid of feeling foolish in front of someone else - I enjoy looking foolish in public.  I'm not especially afraid of failing.  I've failed and failed and managed to keep on kicking.  The anxiety is feeding into something else that I can't put my finger on.  A call for attention?  Or am I simply feeding back into a call and response that was installed in my long ago?  Another study indicates that one of the most accurate predictors of anxiety in a person is an anxious parent.  Phobias run through families like wildfire.  Suicides, too.

I'm extraordinarily fascinated by my fascination with caffeine.  There are some things in my life - sugar is another good example - that provide me with the briefest of jolts and then provide me with a few hours of crappy symptoms, but I can't get my mind past the jolt.  It reminds me so much of my drinking, certain that I'm going to pay a heavy price for a pleasant effect that was becoming shorter and shorter in duration.  I could never get past the pleasant effect, no matter how fleeting it was.

I'm talking to my anxiety.
I'm open to weeping.

It's going to be a good day.

Thursday, July 27, 2017

Sufferin' Seaweed

Suffer:  To feel pain; to undergo hardship; to become worse.

There's a quote in our literature that I've always liked: "Until now, our lives have been largely devoted to running from pain and problems.  We fled from them as from a plague.  We never wanted to deal with the fact of suffering.  Character building through suffering might be all right for saints, but it certainly didn't appeal to us."  Hoo boy, that's some quote.  

If I have anxiety the best approach is to acknowledge it instead of trying to make it go away.  Sit there and look at it.  It's present - might as well let it ramble.  One suggestion that I find helpful when I'm stuck on an airplane with a squalling infant is to listen to the howling closely instead of trying to ignore it - the human brain is wired to notice changes in its environment and to slip into idle when things stay the same.  If you try to ignore the crying then every time there's a change in volume, pitch, tone, timber, intensity, or quality your brain is going to send a signal to perk up and pay attention because something has changed.  Close your eyes and hold onto the edge of your chair for a few minutes - rather quickly you'll notice that the touch sensation will begin to ebb and eventually fade.  Your brain says: "Nothing new to report - I'm going to focus on something else."  But as soon as you move your hand the feeling springs back to life.

So much of the time I judge the feelings that I have.  I categorize them as Good or Bad and if they're in the later category I try to change them.  If I can just look at the feeling and not rate its quality in my life then I'm OK with it.

Here's another quote: "The chief activator of our defects has been self-centered fear - primarily fear that we would lose something we already possessed or would fail to get something we demanded.  Living upon a basis of unsatisfied demands, we were in a state of continual disturbance and frustration."

That's a hell of a quote, too.

Wednesday, July 26, 2017

I AM The Show

Psychosomatic Illness:

Some physical diseases are believed to have a mental component derived from the stresses and strains of everyday living.  This has been suggested, for example, of lower back pain and high blood pressure, which some researchers have suggested may be related to stresses in everyday life.  However, within a psychosomatic framework, mental and emotional states are seen as capable of significantly influencing the course of any physical illness.  Psychiatry traditionally distinguishes between psychosomatic disorders, disorders in which mental factors play a significant role in the development, expression, or resolution of a physical illness, and somatoform disorders, disorders in which mental factors are the sole cause of a physical illness.

I'm going to assume that, like me, no one else is tired of hearing me prattle on and on and on about my non-existent problems.  Problems that exist in my head.

My wife never complains about aches and pains (boy, does she bitch when she's sick, though). No one in her family ever talked about getting old or dying.  No one in my family did either, except for my saint of a mother.  SuperK finds it odd that I bring it up as often as I do.

I don't believe I've ever had a full blown panic attack, the kind where you end up in the ER gasping for breath and clutching your chest, certain death is imminent.  I have had instances that I'll call panicky attacks.  They are a pain in the ass.  I'm struck with these out-of-control feelings of impending doom, loss of control, sure that it's bad and it's going to get worse and it's not ever going to improve.  They definitely feed and build on each other, these fears - they race on and on at increasing speed.

Panic:  Of fear, fright, etc.: sudden or overwhelming. (Attributed to the Greek god Pan, the god of woods and fields who was the source of mysterious sounds that caused contagious, groundless fears in herds and crowds, or in people in lonely spots).

A friend texted me this gem: "Hey, brother, YOU are the show!  Live your own distraught and lovable movie.  It's all you got."

Tuesday, July 25, 2017

Weeping 101

Therapy:  Attempted remediation of a health problem following a diagnosis, usually synonymous with treatment.

I don't remember being involved personally with the act of crying.  I cried when we made the decision to euthanize our cat.  I vaguely remember trying to cry long ago when a good friend was killed in an industrial accident.  But that's it.  I tear up during movies but a good boo hoo hoo, tears-running-down-my-face cry?  Not really registering as something I've indulged in.

I brought this up in therapy.

"Do you think it's unusual that I never cry?" I asked.

This woman paused a few beats to collect herself, and then tossed out a few non-specific qualifiers along the lines of "I don't like to attach labels to things" before going back on the offensive: "How does it make you feel?"

I dunno.  I don't consider myself overly repressed in the emotions department.  But then again maybe I am a bit distant in my relationships with people.  I've always been a "stiff upper lip" sort of German-Scottish hybrid.  Quit bitchin' about the rain and get out there and plow the back forties sort of mentality.

After a little time elapsed she said: "Back to the crying for a minute and remember you brought it up" and then launched into a minor movement of "holy shit, are you kidding me?"  I was pretty sure I had detected some internal gear shifting and clanking coming from her direction right after I brought it up.  I'm assuming it wouldn't be too cool for a psychologist to pause a minute before saying: "Man, you are fucked up."

I've heard that actors can often make themselves weep by imagining sad things.  If not crying is something that isn't good then it would be good to cry, right?  I'm not sure how to do that.  I'm open to the idea but unsure as to how to proceed.  Should I think about sad things?  Should I rent weepy movies?  Should I go back and re-watch the last three outs of the '75 World Series? Is there some kind of class that you can take: Weeping 101?  There's a woman at my Grief Group whose son died in a car crash three or four years ago and she still cries every week.  I mean - get over it, right?  My initial reaction was that she needed to do more plowing in the rain and less thinking about herself.

I've been told that yelling at my inner anxiety in an attempt to get it to show itself may not be the best tactic, that maybe treating it like a frightened child or an abandoned kitten would be better.  Treat it with kindness and encouragement, not like it's something trying to sabotage my life, venomously hiding deep down inside, but rather that it just wants to be heard.  

I've been trying to bring up my panic attacks with people I know.  People are surprised. Apparently I'm good at hiding things.  I wouldn't have characterized myself as a deceiver of emotions but everyone seems to be surprised.

Monday, July 24, 2017

Calming An Overactive Brain

I have a yellow Post-It Note (Trademarked, damn right) on my PC screen that says this:
Think About Something Else

Positive Shit
Long View

I received in the mail today addressed to Laya Frances Murphy an invitation from the Institute For Brain Potential a flyer inviting me . . . er . . . her . . . to attend a new 6 hour seminar for Health Professionals on "Calming An Overactive Brain."   I know who has occupied this particular house for like 10 years and there is no L.F. Murphy in that list.  You literally cannot make this shit up. 

I've been getting feedback from different sources about accentuating the positive, even if it comes at the risk of taking some valuable time away from obsessing on the negative.  If you take the time to criticize someone every day for being stupid it's going to be hard for that individual not to internalize such criticism to some degree, especially if you're talking about someone who is very young or very callow.  I spent my formative years with a woman who was sure she was aging prematurely and about to die.  So when I toss off little remarks about "acting my age" maybe I believe this stuff a lot more than I'm admitting.  SuperK thinks so.

Another reference that I found helpful . . . 

"For mild/moderate anxiety, you can use a mindful approach.  If you fight your anxiety, you’re making it the enemy, which builds a hostile energy between you and your symptom.  Instead, befriend your anxiety.  Try to be OK with its existence, and “sit” with the feeling.  Hold it in your conscious awareness; you’re learning to observe it at a safe distance.  By not participating in it, you’re not losing yourself.  In doing this, most people report, “Whew, what a relief not to be held hostage to it; I don’t feel like a prisoner of it!”  

Sunday, July 23, 2017

Centered In The Mind

Psychosomatic:  Pertaining to diseases, symptoms, etc. which have mental causes.

So does anyone ever project rainbows and sunshine or is the norm doom and gloom?  I've never heard anyone in a meeting say: "My rent was coming up and I was down to my last few dollars in my checking account, wondering if I would lose my place, when the weirdest thing started to happen in my mind: I kept imagining that I won the lottery and everything was OK.  I couldn't get this image of me winning the lottery out of my head.  It was in there for like two weeks.  Whenever a negative thought popped up it was overcome by this image of fame and fortune."

No, we're out on the street, dying a horrible death - a painful horrible death - alone, unloved, spiritually bereft.

This is how I work the scenarios . . . 

I'm getting older.  I'm going to see some decline unless I get hit by a bus which I do not plan to do.  I'm going to lose more and more people that I love - which is bad - unless I die first - which would be worse.

Or . . . 
I'm a healthy, vibrant man with a lot of interests.  I have a stiff back but other than that I'm healthy as a horse - no real injuries or diseases, no family history of scary diseases, no awful tests coming up.

Seems like a simple shift.  

A few years back I decided that maybe I suffered from Irritable Bowel Syndrome.  I was experiencing what I believe was a normal change in my bowel habits as I got older - talk to someone who is old about the subject of "shitting" if you don't believe that it's a very popular topic among those of us of a certain age - but I couldn't find any real terrible disease that I might have.  IBS is one of those conditions marked by numerous, nebulous symptoms so it's a very popular diagnosis among the Worrying Set.  I came across a reference to this syndrome in something I was reading lately and was stunned to find out that it cannot be attributed to anything organic in one's body; rather, that it's a syndrome that starts in one's mind.

That is: if you think you have it then you have it and the more you think about it the worse it becomes.  Quite the syndrome, IBS.

One of my many favorite Simpson's episodes includes a scene with a character - Selma, if you must know - who thinks she is having a heart attack, a worry that drives her to Google up symptoms.  Number one on the list?  "Think you're having a heart attack."  I understand this - if you're trying to drive eyeballs to your web site you don't want to start saying stuff like "ah, you're fine, just relax."

Saturday, July 22, 2017

Maze of Circular Logic

My notes show on 4 separate occasions that I'm afraid of how I would fill my time if I didn't exercise.  That qualifies as a theme.

I don't think I'm feeling very fulfilled right now.  It doesn't matter whether you love your work or you hate your work - it takes up a big chunk of time.  I scramble sometimes when if I'm asked how my day is going.  The activities that I come up with often seem unimportant or self-indulgent.  It was indeed easier to tell someone that I got up and went to work and got home about five o'clock, going to get some dinner and go to bed.

I'm talking big time to my anxiety right now.  I'm encouraging it to come on out.  Depending on my mood I threaten it or reason with it or treat it like a frightened child.  Anxiety - show yourself!  It seems like all of the talking has been giving me some relief although I still tend to wake up overly anxious.  I can't make this happen by wishing that it would be so.

It is remarkable how the feedback loop works.  Anxiety begets anxiety.  Worrying engenders more worrying.  I am still trying to think my way out of this.

Help me release whatever is inside me that wants to come out.  I wonder what it would look like?

SuperK is of the opinion that I spend too much time pondering my own mortality.  I know that I spend too much time alone thinking about myself.  I'm amazed that I was at one point under the impression that aging was going to be this gentle winding down of energy and vitality in a snoozing in the fall sunshine kind of way.  I really believed that.  I didn't see it as a harsher deterioration.  The point, as I argue with her,  is that I'm trying to open my eyes to the reality of the situation, to get out of the dank basement of implausibility.  SuperK is not impressed with my frequent attempts to create a maze of circular logic.  If you give me enough time I can make the most ridiculous things seem reasonable.

"You're just using your intellect to weasel out of this," she says.

Weasel that I am, I cannot argue with that distinctly non-circular logic.

Friday, July 21, 2017

Anxiety Sensitivity

I'm reading a book written by a man who has a ton of no-shit anxiety disorders. Although I'm a lightweight compared to him in the worrying department the book is well-researched and has been helpful to me in the same way that a book about a dramatic low-bottom drunk would be. While I can't relate to the specifics and the severity of a lot of his reactions to the world I can identify with the feelings that produce these exaggerated responses. I like to collect information on topics that are relevant to me - I'm not buying into his reasoning hook, line, and sinker, but from time to time something will make me pause.

Here, for instance, is some stuff he wrote that resonated with me re: my overemphasis on my own body:

This (behavior) is consistent with a trait called anxiety sensitivity, which research has shown to be strongly correlated with panic disorder. Individuals who rate high on the so-called Anxiety Sensitivity Index, or ASI, have a high degree of what’s known as interoceptive awareness, meaning they are highly attuned to the inner workings of their bodies, to the beepings and bleatings, the blips and burps, of their physiologies; they are more conscious of their heart rate, blood pressure, body temperature, breathing rates, digestive burblings, and so forth than other people are. This hyper awareness of physiological activity makes such people more prone to “internally cued panic attacks”: the individual with a high ASI rating picks up on a subtle increase in heart rate or a slight sensation of dizziness or a vague, unidentifiable fluttering in the chest; this perception, in turn, produces a frisson of conscious anxiety.
As you would expect with these individuals there is a tendency to dwell on the negative; a high susceptibility to excessive feelings of anxiety, guilt, and depression; and a predisposition to overreact to minor stress. Unsurprisingly, people who score high on cognitive measures of neuroticism are disproportionately prone to developing phobias, panic disorder, and depression.

I recently came across an article in the medical journal "Gut" that explained the circular relationship between cognition (your conscious thought) and physiological correlates (what your body does in response to that thought): people who are less anxious tend to have minds that don’t overreact to stress and bodies that don’t overreact to stress when their minds experience it, while clinically anxious people tend to have sensitive minds in sensitive bodies - small amounts of stress set them to worrying, and small amounts of worrying set their bodies to malfunctioning.

First of all, there really is a journal called "Gut." And there really is a journal for proctologists called "Asshole."

Second of all, I had to look into the Anxiety Sensitivity Index, an action that made me mildly anxious about what I would find. It's a simple test of 16 questions that I believed would provide the same result that those tests to help you decide if you're an alcoholic did - you know, the ones that give you 20 questions to answer and you're proud that you only gave 10 answers in the affirmative until you find out that if you give 2 yes answers you're probably an alcoholic and you lied on 5 or 6 of them anyway?

Zero. Zippo. Nada. I was oh fer 16. Some of the situations or actions that they describe can occasionally make me mildly to moderately anxious, but not in a paralyzing fashion. Same thing when I looked up the symptoms for Panic Disorder or Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. Once again I'm trying to make a hangnail into evidence of a brain tumor.

All of this knowledge doesn't make my feelings any less real. It's not especially helpful to know intellectually that how I'm feeling isn't evidence based. I really have been feeling crappy.

I continue my headlong assault on everything, though. It's satisfying to take action. It's frustrating to sit patiently. I went to my medical doctor yesterday - on my therapist's recommendation - to investigate options vis-a-vis the medication I take: trying something different, changing the dosage, and the like.

They checked my vitals and then put me in The Little Room. I hate The Little Room. I'd rather stay in The Waiting Room. At least there you know what the deal is. I waited for 45 minutes in The Little Room. I could hear the doctor's voice - inaudible - as he talked to a woman in the exam room next to mine - very audible. She didn't seem too sick to me. I set the appointment up on short notice because the office had a lot of times available on short notice. I assumed this meant I'd be seen in a timely fashion so I slotted my visit 1 1/2 hours before a dentist's appointment. Naturally, the longer I waited the more anxious I became.

I do see the irony here. The doctor makes an anxious patient waiting for an appointment to discuss his anxiety - if he had decided to be cruel he couldn't have picked a better way to do it. The fact that it all worked out didn't ease my mind and I must assume that this knowledge won't be helpful in the future. When I was leaving I asked him what percentage of his patients were in his office with anxiety related ailments.

"25%," he said flatly.

Wow.