manic depression

No, I don't actually suffer from manic depression. I have relatives who do, and I definitely do not. I do, however, experience noticeable and (seems to me) large mood swings, typically in response to stress. I love working hard, especially in lab. The happiest, most productive times of the last couple of years for me were 1)the month I spent at Woods Hole, and 2) the two weeks I spent at Brown. I can't believe how happy being in lab, being productive, made me feel. The high from Brown lasted for about a week after I got back, during which time I felt smart, competent, extremely happy and relaxed all the time. I was sure for that short week that I could handle career and family and friends, and do a good job to boot. There wasn't much Sylvia could do to make me unhappy, which was good because her readjustment to having just me around, and having me not want to hold her constantly, wasn't always pleasant.

Fast forward another week and I'm back to my normal self. I don't know if I can do this, I'm frustrated and worried and stressed. I don't think I do a good job, or that I can handle the rigors of an academic life, never mind an academic life combined with motherhood.

What I didn't realize until reading this article is that such feelings of despair and insecurity (though probably more pronounced from the sound of it) plagued Charles Darwin. The article goes on to describe how a couple of researchers are suggesting there's an evolutionary reason for depression: it helps us think.

My own experience with depression was characterized by a crazy-sharp focus on what made me a bad person and on the situation that revealed all my personal faults. My depression went away when I moved away from the situation and was physically removed from the triggers (mostly people) who figured prominently in my ruminative cycle. There are still triggers I have to watch for (I still hate talks on personal revelation, for instance, because of the "personal revelation" I felt concerning the relationship that precipitated my intense unhappiness).

I'm not sure I buy the entire argument--I'm not sure I really see the evolutionary advantage of feelings that inhibit ones ability to provide for oneself and for loved ones--but there is some definite food for thought there. I only wish I could harness my own melancholy to make myself a better researcher instead of doing what I normally do--blogging and other less than productive distractions.

Pain in the neck

I am so glad that Sylvia is now (most likely) over 17 lb. That said, I wish my body were more capable of handling that weight. Thursday my neck started to hurt. The pain started in one spot fairly high up on my neck, just on the left side, and then started to spread down into my shoulders. By Friday my neck hurt badly enough in spite of my heating and icing it that I took ibuprofen for the pain. Since Saturday the only way I've been functional (or able to sleep) is with pain killers (something that was made clear when I didn't take anything before church and couldn't make it through sacrament meeting).

I don't normally think of myself as a pain woos. I mean, I went through 21 hours of un-medicated labor, 11 of which were on pitocin, so I think I can handle pain. The thing is, this pain, though probably not as intense, is just so constant, and it interferes so much with my daily life. I can't pick things up without pain, or sometimes even hold them. Holding my arm or my head in certain ways is nearly unbearable. I don't want to drive because I don't want to turn my head either direction for fear of twinging my neck. I am being driven to distraction by simple discomfort.

So why am I blogging about this, you may ask? Am I hoping for sympathy? Not really (though it's always appreciated). Everyone feels pain sometimes--of that I am well aware. My current pain situation is hardly unique. I'm sure this pain is far from the worst I've felt, and there may be people out there who are in much worse, even people reading this blog. So again, why am I talking about this?

It's because I made tamales and awesome red mole this weekend that I haven't even eaten yet, and all I want to do is take a pain killer and lie down. Argh.

Bright side

You know, I really should be more charitable at church. People share ideas that sound weird to me and probably help them through tough times, and I really should be more understanding of their needs. Nevertheless, when someone says something bone-headed, along the lines of, "I know the women in this church were valiant spirits in the pre-existence because they were born into homes where their fathers hold the priesthood and have married righteous priesthood holders" I do at times have to resist the urge to gag, laugh out loud, or simply slap someone silly. Ugh. I'm sure that a thought of that nature is, in some sense, a compliment to the women in the life of the man who expressed the sentiment, but it's just so backhanded and condescending, and at the same time so elitist, I have a hard time stomaching it.

I often wonder if the reverse isn't true anyway--what if those of us born into the covenant (at least some of us) are here because we wouldn't have otherwise sought out the church? I'd probably fall into that category. I have a testimony of the truthfulness of the gospel and the power of it in my life, but would my attachment to my particular religion be any different had I been brought up Methodist or Baptist, or Hindu or Muslim? I'm certainly glad to be where I am--I like my life, I enjoy the freedoms afforded me by my culture and my nationality, but how much of that was something predetermined before my birth, and how much of that was random chance?

Let us go not far astray

As I am sometimes wont to do on Sundays, I've spent some time today thinking about some past, very painful events in my life and how I dealt with them, and how I could have dealt with them better, what I've learned. I belong to a church that places great emphasis on the idea of personal revelation. There are, of course, caveats to believing personal revelation--over at bcc there was recently a discussion of how much trust we should put in the ideas, opinions, and revelations from the GA's vs. our own feelings, ideas, and experiences. It's an interesting question, as always and, of course, has precipitated my current musings (if it's not clear why, I'll get to that in a moment).

I am a scientist, and I admit freely I place more trust in science, logic, and reasoning than I do on faith. I am much more likely to do something if I understand the why behind it than if someone simply says, "do it because God says to." Most of the time this works out pretty well for me--sometimes there are conflicts, but most resolve themselves in an adequate manner. I tried the other way--the listening to the spirit and leaving decisions up to the Lord way--and it really didn't work for me.

After college, when I went to grad school, I decided I wanted to go back to church. I realized I did have faith in Mormonism, and so I made many changes in my life and went back to church. Most of the changes were pretty easy--I've never dressed terribly immodestly, I was never into drinking much, and I never liked coffee or tea--but giving up boys was hard. I felt like I had to give up dating non-Mormon guys and find someone who shared my faith. So that's what I did. I broke up with Derrick, started dating this other guy, I prayed over him, and for the first time in my life, I felt like I was in a relationship my Father in Heaven approved of and I felt that he would be pleased if I married this young man. It was a very powerfully good feeling, that certainty I was doing the right thing in the eyes of my Heavenly Father.

Then, the guy cheated on me.

Because of the confirmation I thought I'd felt, I gave him another chance. And another. And another. At some point I knew the confirmation was gone and that the relationship had turned sour, but it was so difficult to give up on that hope that I let him come back and tried to make things work. I felt like if the relationship failed, it would mean I'd failed and was unworthy of the promised blessing of a righteous husband. When the relationship finally ended, I felt like I must have been the bad person, and felt like I was being punished for my bad behavior in college.

I kept going to church, even though it was really hard to be there. I struggled for a long time, wondering if the feelings I'd felt were really true, or if I'd just imagined the confirmation of that relationship. When Derrick and I got back together I didn't ask the Lord if he approved the relationship--I wanted to be happy, I knew Derrick would provide that, and if the Lord wanted me stop, he was going to have to make me. (Really mature, huh?)

The latter approach worked. I'm glad I married Derrick. He is a wonderful husband, and he's a wonderful friend. I know why I wanted to marry someone who shares my beliefs, but I came to realize that religious beliefs aren't necessarily good indicators of shared beliefs.

I've also come to realize that all revelation, personal or not, is conditional. We can, through our actions, change the outcomes prophesied by the Lord's mouthpieces. We can give up promised blessings with bad behavior (Samson and Delilah, anyone?), and we can avoid promised punishments if we repent and turn back to the Lord. God may be all powerful and omniscient, but just because he said it doesn't always make it true.