Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts

Losing Myself



Sometimes - especially around the holidays - I pause to wonder whether I'm losing myself. While most people enjoy some family time (or at least most people my age), I mostly dread it and now, more than ever, I find myself pulled in every direction. I spend so much time trying to fix things and make things better for everyone in my family AND trying to finish up the semester and do everything for my boss(es) and for group projects that I sometimes wonder what I'm supposed to be doing or what I would really like to do - not just what everyone expects me to do.

Maybe the rest of the world doesn't experience this or lose themselves quite like I have a tendency to, and as I get older I suppose I'm more aware of this and more apt to remind myself that it's okay to think about myself. I guess I just thought about it a lot today as I realized I had a lot of work to do before Monday - including a final exam Monday night (but seriously, who does that?!) - and I'm exhausted, but haven't even gotten much of "my" work done. Instead of helped do house repairs and keep the parents updated while they've been in another hemisphere, I've shopped for presents and groceries, stocked the fridge and the pantry, loaned out my car and cleaned up a ton of stuff. It's tough and I have to drive back tomorrow and cram like nobody's business because I really don't know what's happening with that exam. But at least I'm going back to my own little sanctuary, with my dog and my own work and problems and issues to take care of... and if everything's not perfect here, well, I just have to let it go. Even if it feels a bit selfish.

Nature, Nurture, & Gestalt Psych in Football

The Pouncey Twins of UF

For some reason today I was thinking about the advantages of having a sort of "sixth sense" for your teammates in football and just being aware of one another and how that can make such a huge difference - between mediocre and pretty darn good and between good and great. Then for some reason I connected this to the advantages that siblings have in tennis when they play as doubles partners. Siblings that grew up together, have known each other their entire lives, that have practiced together more than apart... they just seem to "get" each other and have a sense of chemistry that's nearly impossible to develop without the nature and nurture ties. I'm thinking of the Williams sisters and the Bryan brothers in tennis.

But then I started to think about how this might translate to football and if there were any examples in football and I thought of Pouncey twins at Florida and then the Williams brothers for the Minnesota Vikings (both defensive tackles). There aren't that many other prominent examples right now, and unfortunately, it's not that easy to narrow down searches to brothers who have played football together (at least not without letting myself spend five hours looking). It's funny how that doesn't seem to be something anyone's really considered, yet so many broadcasters talk about guys who have a sixth sense for teammates and the position of the ball and yet we've ignored the obvious advantage of these blood connections and how valuable they can... and perhaps more importantly (or at least fascinatingly), what happens if we split these pairings? I think you'd lose a tremendous amount... at least for the brothers in football. You'd lose the symbiotic relationship, the whole as more than the sum of its parts-phenomena. Not that the Pouncey twins or the Williams brothers wouldn't be good without each other, but I don't think they'd come up with some of the plays they do without the other one. Just look at the Horton brothers at USC (Southern Cal, the other USC) - one switched positions AND transferred to play with the other!

It's interesting to think about what will happen with the Pouncey twins, as it's difficult to imagine that they could be drafted together, that one would last an entire round and you would have to make a trade pretty early to get two picks together to get them (otherwise you'd have one twin and everyone else would know you have the other and be able to squeeze you for a lot to get the other one... well, "a lot" being relative to what draft round the twins go in).

Just something interesting to think about, a new thought on nature and nurture combined with some Gestalt psychology for this autumn Saturday full of college football!

New Theory on Blink, Psychics, and Dream Interpretation

"Intuition strikes me as a concept we use to describe emotional reactions, gut feelings--thoughts and impressions that don't seem entirely rational. But I think that what goes on in that first two seconds is perfectly rational. It's thinking--its just thinking that moves a little faster and operates a little more mysteriously than the kind of deliberate, conscious decision-making that we usually associate with thinking.'" -Malcolm Gladwell, about Blink

I feel the need to disclose that I've never really been much for psychics and the supernatural and anything related to it - somehow after Miss Cleo went to prison, it all lost its luster for me. However, throughout my life various people have claimed to have psychic connections to me or that I had a powerful aura or some other penchant towards the supernatural. I've always dismissed it despite being exposed to far more people with some sort of psychic claim than most people (most of these people having been my mom's friends or general family friends and connections). I'm an academic, I went to a school heavily dominated by those going to med school or concentrating in engineering... the typical background for a cynic/non-believer/empiricist.

So last week when I had a weird feeling about my parents dog and then had a couple of dreams about her, I wasn't necessarily all that worried. I started to have insomnia again, but figured that was more a result of the unpleasant content than because I actually believed it was all true... but nonetheless, last week I told my mom I'd had these worries and at one point even texted my mom to ask if Wilma was okay, figuring that if I got a text back from her at 3am (when I texted), that she was awake and something was wrong... and if there was radio silence, I was golden. No response and I figured I was in the clear. But I had this bad feeling/bad dream a time or two more and various meetings were canceled and timing happened to work out that last week was one of the least busy I've had in awhile, so I figured I'd take a road trip to Atlanta and see Wilma nad my parents. Turns out, Wilma got sick right after I freaked the first time, but the vet thought it was just a sinus infection made worse by her existing cancer and radiation... my parents more or less told me about this and I relaxed, but then when timing worked out and I was just feeling weird about everything anyways, I told my parents I'd be home that day and my mom confessed that Wilma was in emergency surgery... so, long story short (or shorter, because trust me, these weird feelings and such could be discussed for much longer), I had feelings about an event and they turned out to be scary accurate, despite a lack of knowledge of the events.

I'm most definitely NOT claiming to have any psychic powers or anything along those lines, and in fact, think that I've come up with a new idea/theory about how existing research and ideas can explain this phenomena in a fairly rational, empirical way. I was thinking about affective forecasting and general "gut instinct" research - namely that from Malcolm Gladwell's Blink - and how humans can make very good decisions with gut instinct and without conscious thought in split seconds (you can read more about it here, in an interview with the author, among other places - it's a pretty popular pop psychology book). However, the caveat is that we make good decisions when we have enough experience and background knowledge that we can subconsciously evaluate those experiences and combine them to make predictions and assess potential outcomes. Thus, we are good at gut feelings and split-second decisions when we are "experts" in the situation or field of the decision - such as the CEO of a company who has been in his position for ten years and he has a feeling about a particular business decision. But, we are not good when we don't have the experiences and knowledge to evaluate the situation - even if we don't know we could have this knowledge or that we have this knowledge in the "expert" situation. For example, a new CEO with little experience in the field/company might not be able to make good decisions using a "gut instinct" because he cannot think back to similar situations he has experienced or knowledge he has about the people and situation and use those to subconsciously evaluate alternatives.

So what does this have to do with being psychic? Well, I think that it's this sort of subconscious decision-making and evaluating that happened to me/for me/within me. I knew Wilma was sick and that things had been happening and my parents were being evasive about everything and so my subconsious was simply telling me to go home and visit Wilma because she was sick and is terminal, not necessarily because anything specific was happening to her. The fact that these feelings and additional bad events overlapped is coincidence. And odds are that bad things have and will continue to happen to poor Wilma because she has terrible luck and because she has had a terrible reaction to the radiation. And the fact that any of this was connected to dreams is just more evidence that the subconscious is involved. After all, one theory of dreams and states of consciousness is that we simply explore various ideas and thoughts from the unconscious/subconscious mind while we sleep... sometimes playing with ideas in a sort of working of the Rubik's cube. And that's what happened here...

Maybe I'm just freaked out about this because my mom is so convinced that I have some sort of psychic vision or connection to Wilma and that clashes with both my personal beliefs about the universe and what is real and tangible as well as my very self-concept (as an empiricist, rational person... mostly devoid of and inept with feelings). But nonetheless, am I making a big leap so I can sleep at night? Is this theory even remotely plausible or legitimate?

Think Good Thoughts


"Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear." -Ambrose Redmoon

For my dog/my parents' dog, Wilma. I say my dog because she was always mine, we got her in 5th grade from the pound and I've loved her ever since. She was technically mine and I took care of her forever, but my dad claimed I abandoned her by going to college and so I couldn't have her back when I got done with college and had room for her. But now I'm making emergency trips to Atlanta, the first one because my parents thought they were going to have to put her to sleep and again now because I had a bad feeling something had happened to her and my parents were extremely evasive about it...

She has nasal cancer (her snout is all cancerous tumors) and an abscess on her snout ruptured, which was good because it relieved pressure, but bad because it blew up everywhere... so Wilma had emergency surgery and apparently cancer has eaten away a lot of her skull and it's all grown back even though they just removed it a few weeks ago. So now Wilma is home, but continuing to struggling to breathe and continuing to have issues eating and walking and everything else. It's obvious she's in a lot of pain and it's awful to watch, but I can't bear to think about what's happening slowly and when anything might happen and what the future holds. I hate that this has happened to my family because this whole thing is more complicated than it seems and basically now my parents are questioning their own decisions in treating Wilma and doing radiation on the cancer (because Wilma is part of the 10% with a bad reaction to it) and we are all just dealing with so much. I can't believe this and how awful it all is...

I feel like I should write more and I sort of want to, but I'm not letting myself think about anything too much. Why dread what hasn't happened is my sort of motto for now. That and the need to keep it together because Wilma needs a lot of care right now... and I just wanted you all to be thinking good thoughts for her (me and Wilma and Bella would be very grateful as Bella has been very worried about Wilma).

Lessons from the Book of Job

"Don’t try to make life a mathematics problem with yourself in the center and everything coming out equal. When you’re good, bad things can still happen. And if you’re bad, you can still be lucky." -Barbara Kingsolver, The Poisonwood Bible

Sometimes life is just hard. Sometimes you have to just resist the urge to look up at the skies and tell God to take His best shot, strike you with lightning or just destroy you (a la Jena Malone in "Saved!" or any number of other memorable movie moments). I've felt close to that point the past few days.

I rushed home to Atlanta late last night because my dog from elementary school through high school and who my dad claimed was his when I left for college was very, very sick and losing gross motor control. The vets did a biopsy and there's a tumor occupying most of her snout, but they aren't sure if it's a very aggressive tumor that's pressing on her brain or has invaded it. If it has invaded her brain, she's terminal. If not, it's treatable. For now, she is leaking blood everywhere and struggling to breathe. She's lost a lot of weight, can barely sleep because she has to struggle to breathe, and the vets swear it's more discomfort than pain. I'm coaxing her to eat and drink and constantly wondering how we're going to make it until we get biopsy results on Tuesday. This is when we learn her fate, assuming she doesn't get drastically worse and demonstrate on her own that her brain is infected rather than simply affected.

It's truly heartbreaking and horrific. Worse than when my mom had her lung biopsy and they couldn't quite sew her up all the way (that's how it works with lungs -- too many alveoli and little tubes and vessels that don't get sewn up) and she would just start gushing blood from about the bottom of her rib cage. This is worse because Wilma, my/my family's dog, looks so pitiful and helpless and she herself is getting covered in blood, but doesn't want us to wash her. Sometimes she comes over and looks up at me and I know she wants something, but I can't figure it out. We go through the typical things and ultimately I think she wants someone to make it hurt less, but I can't.

I honestly think that watching another living being suffer like this might be the hardest thing to do. And as if this wasn't awful enough, it's my father's first Father's Day without his own father so I'm sure that my grandfather was thinking about his father this weekend and seeing this awful suffering can't help, but bring all of it to mind. And my dad is so close to Wilma. When my dad has been laying around with his radiation treatment, Wilma has napped with him and been there for him and just simply understood and sympathized and try to help in a way that no human ever can. She selflessly loved him and now she has to suffer like this and it breaks my heart. There's no way that she's just uncomfortable, you can't look at this dog and not see that now.

I just can't believe that this is happening right now. I just don't know how much more my family, my dad in particular, can take. And reading up on Job and struggling to make meaning out of this or just find some small comfort... well, it's just not happening. I don't know if I'll ever grow to accept this particular story that's always bothered me anyways, but I certainly can't at this point in time...

Hopefully you all are looking at a much better approaching weekend...

(And a slight update: Had to do something creative or mind-numbing because of a freakin' RIDICULOUSLY terrible email from the thesis adviser and I just can't think about it because I'm so angry and I just can't believe how shitty she is sometimes... like now. So here's a slideshow of William Blake's Illustrations of the Book of Job. Images from Wikipedia.)

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About this Blog



The adventures of a twentysomething pursuing a Ph.D. in the behavioral sciences, living with the dog that is the love of my life, and battling everything from becoming an academic to small town insanity. I blog about everything related to sports, my dog, psychology and other social science stuff in the news, my dad's battle with cancer, dating in a world full of married people, and anything else I see that catches my eye!

Bella

Bella
(faithful sidekick and pound puppy - and she can obviously be much more intimidating when not playing in the snow in her pink fur-lined hoodie)

Me

Me
(the "Mel" of grad school infamy)