Brave New Worlds

And the chewy, neurological, biochemical information just keeps coming.

Whilst closing out links from researching this post, I came across yet more blogs on the wonders of the mind. And the motherlode? A blog post with a compiled list of neuroscience podcasts. I've mentioned before that listening to voices soothes depression...now I can ease my troubled mind and learn about it's origins at the same time. Bonus!

And, to be absolutely clear in my shout-outs:

Neuroscience Blogs

The Frontal Cortex
The blog author wrote a book called Proust Was A Neuroscientist that I'll need to buy.

Mind Hacks
Listed as a news archive. The authors wrote a book as well, plus I vaguely remember a Google widget that they might be responsible for.

Anthropology
This is a multiplied authored weblog, established to, and I quote:

Neuroanthropology is a collaborative weblog created to encourage exchanges among anthropology, philosophy, sociatheory, and the brain sciences.

Looks like they regularly tag their posts, unlike me, so it should be fairly easy to sort out the brain science posts.

Finding all this is like falling over $50 in the street.

At Least There's An Upside

to yesterday's posting. In searching for the quote from the Radiolab episode I referenced, I stumbled across my new favorite site...or my new favorite site subsection. Lots of interesting articles on brain stuff to read through.

I'm Not Okay 'Cause You're Not Okay And The World's Not Okay...

Radiolab had an interesting show the other day on deception, the different kinds and, most importantly, how the brain looks during.

In the last part of the show they said something interesting about people's capacity to self-decieve and depression. Unfortunately, I couldn't find the exact quote but the explanation went something like this:

People with depression are more likely to lack the normal person's ability to self-deceive; i.e. the world is an okay place, people are generally okay, etc. They see themselves and the world exactly as it is; they are all too aware of the horrible things that go on in it and the terrible things people can do to each other.

I couldn't agree more.

Even if I watch nothing but comedies and fill my iPod with interesting podcasts and happy "up" music, I can't avoid what I see when I walk out the door, or what my co-workers tell me. Sometimes I feel as though my mind lacks some neurological or biochemical 'skin' that everyone else has; that it is exposed, uncovered and is vulnerable to any and every emotive influence around it.

It's a painful existence.

Mood Enhancer

I've recently become a huge fan of octopi specifically because they wear their hearts on their sleeves, almost literally. The color and even pattern of their skin changes depending on what they're feeling/experiencing which endears them to me.

The bite inthis video isn't mood enhancing, but the behavior of this little guy is. You can almost see him saying, 'I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to bite, I was just so hungry!'.

For more octopus video fun, check out Tonmo's video site.

Descent

I'd planned to post this weekend but like the best laid plans of mice and men, mine aft agley. For reasons still unknown to me, my brain chemistry went south around Friday evening and didn't get better until Sunday afternoon. And by 'better' I mean 'shaky, brittle but okay'.

What's scary is that in spite of the semi-diligent note taking I'd implemented, I have no clue as to why I plummeted. Those scribblings were supposed to give me a reason why I crashed if I ever did, once I'd clawed my way back to normal, and they're not. At least not now.

Hopefully I can get to the bottom of this.

Eternity In An Hour

I'm in the Dickinson hour of lead now; I feel that dull, inert and cold. However, its the William Blake poem that came to mind...especially the first few lines

To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.

When I stop and think about the vast divide between when I feel best and when I do not it amazes me that I traverse this huge distance within the space of twenty four hours...sometimes less. It is important to note that I don't stop and think often because I need to maintain forward motion, mental and physical, to get through the day and stopping long enough to think is a risky endeavor.

It is in this time that I fear my mind will snap like a wire bent full one way then the other, over and over until it breaks at the bend point. I'm afraid the constant back and forth along the mood continuum will create such a point in my mind.

Today I read the William Blake through to the end for the first time. How timely that the end reads like this:

Every Night and every Morn
Some to Misery are Born.
Every Morn and every Night
Some are Born to sweet delight.
Some are Born to sweet delight,
Some are Born to Endless Night.

Stimulating The Brain

Today's semi-monthly trip to the psych and the subsequent medication adjustment reminded me of this new treatment I stumbled over while reading a magazine article.

Deep brain stimulation is based upon the observation that a region of the brain called Brodmann area 25 is metabolically overactive in treatment-resistant depression. Researchers studied whether a chronic deep brain stimulation to modulate this activity could help patients with treatment-resistant depression.

What the researchers found was that deep brain stimulation was associated with a "striking and sustained" remission of depression in four of the six patients they studied.

The six study participants had been suffering from depression anywhere between 1.5 to 10 years and were considered to be treatment-resistant.

Among the effects patients reported were sudden calmness, heightened awareness and increased interest.

Emphasis mine.

The studies done were limited at best but I know I'd jump on this in a heartbeat if it ever went mainstream. Complete remission of all depression symptoms without spending a lifetime on pills? Sign me up yesterday.

Kinda Like This: When It Wears Off

I've either made this post already or thought about doing so much I've done it...at least in my head...but even if I've mentioned this before it's worth repeating simply for this incredible example of beautifully written dialogue:

RIVER
Going. Going back, like the apple
bits coming back up. Chaos.

SIMON
But you felt okay this morning...

RIVER
(smiles)
Played with Kaylee, the sun came out
and I walked on my feet, heard with
my ears...
(crumbling)
I hate the bits, the bits that stay
down and I work, I function like I'm
a girl. I hate it because I know
it'll go away, the sun goes dark and
chaos is come again. Bits. Fluids.
(really crying now)
What am I?

I've tried numerous times, using thousands of useless words, to describe what it's like to feel the medicine, that keeps me functioning like a normal person in this world, wearing off. Joss Whedon, the writer responsible for the aforequoted lovely bit of dialogue (I think) nails it in one succinct interchange.

The key line for me, the one that digs at my heart every time I hear River say it:

"I hate it because I know it'll go away...the sun goes dark and chaos is come again."

Because for me, regarding the medicine, it is so true.

Stupid Fucking Pills

Most days I'm grateful for the medicine that keeps me sane, allows me to hold a job, gives me the chance at some semblance of a "normal" life. Given that my short term memory blows steaming goat chunks, I have a hard time remembering how bad the depression was at it's worst but I remember enough not to want to experience it Ever. Again.

However, there are some moments that I hate these pills I have to take with every ounce of my being. When it's four am on day five of week three of my cycle and the hormones have yanked the pharmaceutical platform out from under me. When it's the day after I've forgotten to take the last dose of Effexor for the day and the base of my skull is pounding. When it's now.

I've taken my second dose so the utter loathing shouldn't last long, but it certainly feels as though it will.

Balancing Act

Once a month, depending on the state of our finances, I'll engage in strictly disciplined retail therapy. One small item, sometimes very inexpensive, sometimes a little less so, usually purchased online, usually on sale, and gift-wrapped, if the vendor is offering it for free.

I keep an eye out for things that are unique, or have meaning or usefulness; a portable aromatherapy snifter, an ID bracelet with something I'm to remember engraved on it. This month, I got this:


That's a labradorite stone in the setting. According to the accompanying blurb:

Often regarded as a transformational stone that heals and balances the aura, labradorite is said to be protective during vulnerable growth stages and intense transitions.

I don't believe that stones have power to change or protect me, but it's been more difficult than usual this monthly cycle so I'm adopting the 'any little bit that helps' mode of thinking.

Kinda Like This: Meds Coming On Board

I'm not good at specifics when describing feelings so I've always got an eye and ear out for common cultural references for analogical use.

Johnny Mnemonic is an excellent short story that was made into a not so excellent movie and while it's not exactly a popular culture reference (since probably most of the culture never saw the movie) there is a scene that is an excellent depiction of what I experience in the liminal state while I'm waiting for the meds to get on board.

This snippet of summary sort of describes the scene I'm talking about:

Johnny is a data trafficker who has an implant that allows him to securely store data too sensitive for regular computer networks. His brain can carry nearly 80 gigabytes worth of data, or 160 gigabytes if he uses a doubler. Johnny uses this implant to act as a courier between contracting parties. On one delivery run, he accepts a package that not only exceeds the implant's safety limits (and will thus kill him if the data isn't removed in time), but also proves to contain information far more important and valuable than he had ever imagined.

Emphasis mine.

And for those with strong constitutions, this is the actual scene. Ignore the bad dubbing...in fact, turn the sound down...and watch Johnny's expression as the overload of data is forced into his brain.

That teeth gritting, hand clenching, every muscle tensed sensation...that's how I feel inside my brain while waiting for the meds to kick in.