"I think, therefore I am." -René Descartes

I have dysthymia,

a depressive mood disorder that affects roughly 5% of American adults.  This means that I live with chronic depression and have done so for nearly all of my life.  What life is like on a really bad day for you, is my norm.  The official symptoms, as delineated in the The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) IV is as follows:

• poor appetite or overeating
• insomnia or hypersomnia
• low energy or fatigue
• low self-esteem
• poor concentration or difficulty making decisions
• feelings of hopelessness

The medication takes care of the physical symptoms.  Namely the irrational an inexplicable origins of low energy, self-esteem, and concentration, the feelings of hopelessness and overeating.  The medication does not undo the secondary effects of the disorder.  Namely, the maladaptive cognitive patterns (methods or cycles of thoughts that will cause me harm or unhappiness) or the abnormal personality that develops from it (isolation, dismissive approach to relationships, lack of closeness and joy from leisurely or social activities).  Most significantly, however, is the fact that the dysthymia has prevented me from learning the social skills that I should have while growing up.  Considering my home and family environment with limited interaction with human beings, it should come as no surprise that I simply don’t know how to do simple things like “be friends” or “show love” or “connect emotionally”.  It’s not that I don’t want to; it’s not that I can and, yet, keep sabotaging myself – I simply just don’t know how.*

These are problems that take time and effective, intense psychotherapy to repair.  Two things to which I do not have ample access.  This means that I must find and apply the solutions myself, until I can condition myself to interact with others on a closer, healthier level (equalizing my needs with theirs, learning how to express emotions and thoughts properly).  There are many dangerous ideas out there through pseudoscience or peoples’ opinions and anecdotes.  People make wide claims, people produce secret remedies, either intentionally out of malice or accidentally out of ignorance.

I can afford the consequences of neither, so I must turn to the dependable producer of truths – science.  I can always depend on science to reassure me that there is hope.  I can always depend on science to produce for me the best known answers to difficult questions.  I can trust science to give me solutions that will almost always work.  Science is my lifeblood.

I spend nearly every spare waking moment I have reading books, articles, and journals.  I absorb whatever I think could be useful.  I cross-check; I double-check; I experiment; I implement.  I must apply psychotherapeutic techniques, and I must recondition my thoughts and behavior.  And slowly, but surely, I see results.  Science is what lets me live.  Science is the hope I have for the better, happier life that I want now that I am free of the physical shackles of dysthymia.

To me, science is life.

* The irony of this situation is that I recognized my social ineptitude early on, and began studying self-improvement books such as How to Win Friends and Influence People by Dale Carnegie.  I especially focused on books to help me through work and public speaking; so, in the end, I am able to make speeches or presentations, I am able to network in business, but I can’t seem to manage those little, personal conversations in between – the ones that I care about.  Nothing is more frustrating that being with someone I appreciate and admire and not knowing how to express it, or how to repay the kind feelings their presence offers me.

Have a question? Please, ask me – it’s anonymous: http://www.lunathink.com/ask/

Today, I had an interesting discussion with two of my colleagues about the nature of science and religion.  One of my high school interns asked me if I believed in God, to which I replied, “No.”  As I began to state my reasons, my colleague began to challenge me when I mentioned, “All progress that man kind has made to this day is thanks to science.”  I admit, this statement was not well thought out, and deserved to be called out.  Religion was a necessary evolutionary trait that kept mankind together as a cohesive, social unit.  Where we began to truly reach a heated discussion was when I put forth the fact that religion is causing harm due to its fervent war against science.  There are numerous arguments in favor of this statement, with supporting evidence both globally and nationally.  I will point the reader to these sources, as I believe he is privileged to consume as much as he would or would not like: The End of Faith and Letter to a Christian Nation by Sam Harris and Denialism by Michael Spectre. These are books that I have read or am current reading.  I also recommend Richard Dawkin’s God Delusion.

I am, at my very core, a proponent of science.  I have always been, and I have recently had the immense pleasure of learning more about the essence of science in my latest reading of Keith Stanovich’s How To Think Straight About Psychology, a book that reminds the public that psychology is indeed a science by reminding people what science consists of and how true psychology fits this description exactly.  Additionally, it describes why the public views some sciences in an overly skeptical way, with a special focus on psychology due to the difficulties it faces in penetrating the public.

But anyways, I believe in the power of science and it’s utility to shed light on truths about the universe (a universe that includes ourselves).  And I believe in using this man-made process to further the well-being of humanity; I have no problem with you answering questions that science cannot answer -eg: essentialist questions such as “What is happiness? What does happiness truly mean? or Why do we need happiness?” You can answer these in any way you see fit as long as innocents do not have to suffer because of it.

My confusion and sorrow for religious people is their acceptance of two contradictory methods of thought: science, which consists of arriving at conclusions through evidence, and religion, which consists of arriving at conclusions without or even opposed to evidence.  My quarrel with these people is that they cause the deaths of millions due to their arguments and actions.  Millions of people die of starvation because our country’s people refuse to allow genetically modified foods to become a predominant food source because it treads on God’s turf.  People die because of pseudoscience faith remedies that replace medicinal cures.  People die and suffer because a blastocyst – composed of cells in the hundreds (as opposed to trillions in a grown human) – have souls and thus are more important than burn victims, amputees, and so many others that could benefit from stem cells.  This is injustice.  These are decisions without evidence.

Science provides answers and truths to questions that we could not answer before.  This scares people.  People cling to irrational beliefs and obstruct the path of progress with those beliefs.  We have answers, let us use them.

Multimedia Material/Sources:

Science can answer moral questions.

The danger of science denial.

Have a question? Please, ask me – it’s anonymous: http://www.lunathink.com/ask/

I can see that much progress has been made in myself, now. Today I was able to taste the fruits of my labors. I attended a simple performance at one of the dorms on campus (Next House), and found that many friends I’d made had gathered to come to this event — due to prefrosh, personal interests, parents, families, etc. I was there with some of my newest, and most satisfying, reciprocating friends, and I was surrounded by people I wanted to see and who enjoyed seeing me. It inspired the strangest feeling within me.

I felt like I belonged.

I had given up on that dorm, but I see again the effects of my black-tinted glasses, now made clear with my auto-psychology and medication. And, as time goes on, I find myself becoming more warm towards places like Next House; especially as my previous, tainted emotional imprints are wiped clean and repaired.

Today was an important day. Today was a day that showed me the remarkable obstacles I have overcome and the love and family that can now grow forth from the freshly tilled soil. I feel glad to be alive.

Well, here I am with insomnia. That’s what it takes to get me to write another post. It’s a side effect of my medication and due to a rough week two weeks ago where I took my meds are the wrong times.

A while ago, a reader submitted a question, asking what I thought was the most celebrated aspect of man. I believe that man’s capacity to suspend the logical and perseverance through circumstances of indomitable odds is the most celebrated aspect, for better or for worse.

People have done great deeds by challenging the idea that something is “impossible”, likewise, people have done ridiculous or damaging deeds because they suspended their rationality. As with every psychological tool in the human arsenal, we have a double-edged blade. And, again, like all of our tools, it is completely necessary. Those who consistently succeed in their impossible pursuits are those who have learned to harness their emotions enough to clearly see when suspension of common sense, success, or logic should be indulged.

These people have a strong desire for achievement. They want to be the best at what they do, and they want to be credited with leaving the greatest mark on this planet.

Or, these people have a strong desire for power. They want to be influential; they want others to trust them, to model them. Those with a sense of discipline to tame this ambition will succeed. They channel their lust for power into a river of energy for inspiring others, solidifying a group, and pressing the attack against a common goal. They use refined instinct with an air of calm to leverage past knowledge.

Those without inhibition indulge in their bloodlust, and their ambitions for raw power sabotage their own efforts. They stumble when they must hold the line; they bark and bite when they should inspire and lead; they shout rather than persuade. They use raw, primal, instinct.

The most potent leader has a desire for power that outweighs his desire to be liked by others; but, more importantly, this power is controlled with an equally strong inhibition.

Life has taken a turn for the best lately. I have found myself able to focus and exist more peacefully and balanced than ever before. My holiday was spent with two families my own and my friend’s, Anton’s. I discovered my past had been heavily tinged by a crooked lens, but that the essential spirit of my family was unchanged. My sister still loves her art and is outgoing to an almost dangerous degree, my mother is still a jittery bookworm, and my father still assaults dragons and ancient beasts online every night.

My work has been improving because my confidence grows everyday. I am starting to see the rewards that directly correlate to my work and my efforts and I am quickly realizing the benefits of focusing my energies and efforts on a few projects at a time. My father’s words of advice help me barrel through difficult times and to persevere through boring or trying efforts, “You always need to earn your stripes, first. No matter how small or petty, each man has to earn his stripes at least once.”

And now, Lotusphere is right around the corner, and I cannot wait to step, as an equal, into a realm where I feel I may finally meet those people I’ve been looking for all along.

My flight was canceled – again – and the recommended next booking is Tuesday. This gave me plenty of time to return a movie I had rented, Little Man Tate, as suggested by my boss. Given the blizzard, there were few people outside, and even fewer cars, and I had a chance to enjoy the serene beauty of a nigh silent, white world.

And it reminded me of how far we have come as a people. Mother nature throws one of her challenges at us, again – a blizzard which drowns animals in over a foot of ice and snow, and continues to rain down chilled feelings for an illusory eternity. A display which tests the survival of Earth’s creatures, halts the movement of water, and obstructs the path of all that flee, and, yet, we see it as only an annoyance – an inconvenience. Man does not fret or flee, he does not stockpile food for his survival, he does not shell himself for months until the cold departs. Man simply turns a dial which uses the very forces of nature against herself and warms the shelter he has built from the materials she has also provided. Man simply adorns an extra layer of animal skin or carefully woven plant fiber and walks his usual, daily path. Man simply takes his needs from a giant warehouse of food without worry, stress, or doubt. Survival is not in question.

Such capacity is a testament to our species – to what it means to truly be a man. A true man looks a raging maelstrom in the eye and smiles when others organisms would flee in terror. He smiles because he knows that the maelstrom rages because it is afraid. It knows that its might will be free only until man chooses to bend its will towards his end. There is no question, only inevitability. A true man bends the will of the world around him as he walks the Earth. His head will never permanently bow to any element this universe commands.

A piece of my daily inspirations comes from this immense potential and responsibility. I am a man. I am a representative of this species. I will not dishonor such a proud line of creatures through a life of lazy pleasures; I will exist such that any who look upon me will be able to see the might of the human race within my soul, and know that man will conquer any challenge and face any foe.

“Experience is not what happens to a man; it is what a man does with what happens to him.”

-Aldous Huxley, English writer.

There are six days until Christmas. Two days until I fly back to Maryland. I have not seen my family for nearly seven months, now – a meeting I have been postponing as long as possible. They have been integral to my psychological situation.

I would instinctively say that they are a significant root of my condition, given the way my family exists: each strewn to his own corner of the house – forever to keep to himself or risk stirring the irritable beasts within the others. A house of short-sighted logic, where one’s thoughts were not one’s own, and privacy is a word with superficial meaning. A dynamic of hypocrisy criticized in thought, and idolized in action. A house where any word, emotion, or deed without justification is prohibited.

I am the guinea pig child, as my parents say. I help them try new things, figure out what they can do better, or what they’ve done wrongly to ensure they don’t repeat the same mistakes with my sister. These parents have long been my greatest demons, but even my own memories can twist and bend reality. My condition has prevented me from forming any happy memories up until this point, so I have only half a picture to reflect upon. Perhaps these people are my family, and I will finally be able to see and feel it, now. Or, perhaps, they are the destructive, black behemoths of taint within my soul.

I have always known that this day would come; a spiritual war for survival against an intangible enemy without reason and without mercy. I will need all of the strength and cunning I can muster in the coming days. I have faith, though, that no matter the outcome the eternal flame which resides within me will still manage to burn – even if only a flicker to be rekindle in the future. And, as it has carried me through life to this day, I will continue to ride the raging passion of my spirit. So hopefully, if I am able to find, make, or earn enough luck, I will return with great triumph and few scars.

“A hero is no braver than an ordinary man, but he is braver five minutes longer.”

- Ralph Waldo Emerson, US essayist and poet

Fear can exist without courage, but courage cannot exist without fear. Courage is the slow, steady war against fear, not the absence of it. It’s the series of battles from the voice on your pillow at the end of the day saying, “I’ll try again tomorrow,” to the grand confrontation against your darkest demons. The spark in your bosom, as you stare that demonic fear in the face, as if for an eternity, that spark which forces you to hold your ground for five more minutes that is true courage. And those five minutes reward you time and time again throughout the rest of your life. I speak of courage because someone tried to test me, today.

Today, Student Support Services tried to scare me out of my decision. I came to show my progress and finalize most of the paperwork involved in moving forward, a decision they do not support, and they tried to intimidate me by bringing up the rare past cases where students were forced to remove themselves from school without even an academic warning. They tried to cite other sources which indicated I should take medical leave.

There are two counts that I find amusing about this particular situation. One, they feel they must resort to primal tactics like fear because they cannot hold their argument logically. Two, anyone who is well-informed on the situation supports my stance, completely. I must emphasize these points because the person with whom I spoke still has not tried to learn about the entirety of the situation, opting instead to try fear-tactics to convince me otherwise. I am reminded of some wise words of Albert Einstein…

“Great spirits have always found violent opposition from mediocre minds. The latter cannot understand it when a man does not thoughtlessly submit to hereditary prejudices but honestly and courageously uses his intelligence.”

- Albert Einstein, German Physicist, discovered Special Relativity

There are two types of men: those who change to fit the world, and those who change the world to fit them.

Every person faces this choice. Every person must decide. Most people choose to fit the world. They believe that such a large, abstract concept representing billions of people either cannot be changed, or should not be changed. The other group carves out a home in whatever chunk of the world they see fit.

Without a doubt, the easier path is to fit the world; it already has a nice niche ready for you – it tells you what to do, and may even pat you on the head for following each step of the way. You have surrendered your choice for the illusion of choice; you accept without question that everyone else is right simply because they are not you. You will most likely lead a content life. After all, this process of niche-filling has worked for millennia. And I must extend a great deal of thanks to you, you make the world run, so, “Kudos!” to you.

But there is often a pressing sense that something greater lay just around the river bend. This is a more uncommon path, laden with rapids, rocks, and dangers. Those who choose this path pay great costs and receive great rewards. Those with excellent pathfinding skills can even weave between the dangerous path and the easy one. They push themselves, then rest and share their experiences on the easy road, and eventually find themselves pushing the very limits of mankind and expanding the possibilities for all of man.

And then we have the peculiar case of those who must take the unbeaten path. There is a surrealism to these folk. An sense of eccentricity and oddity emanates from them like odor from a compost pile. They tackle the same challenges of the pathfinder, but without pause. They are the wild men and women. They are the hunter gathers, the secret finders, and the guide persons. They know the rough and dirty side of the world, and they accept it because it is all they know. The easy path is strange and unappealing – it does not fit them. They are the one thing that is not like the other.

There is an unending endurance to the latter. We have a stronger stride, a drum with a unique beat. We have a tremendous threshold for pain and capacity for compassion. We can take the harshness of life and even the burdens of others’ because we have a unique source of energy: ourselves and our wilderness.

Three blue pills.

The thin wire fence that keeps me from the brink.

Something as simple as three blue pills. Who would think they could rule a life?

My mind is chaos filled fear. I can see doom. I can feel nothing.

My energy is str gone g, and my will is dead fierce.

I can fall go from the grace distance, I cannot slay the demons.

Hope drainsfills frommy soul.

I am not who I want to be.

As long as I have my three blue pills enslave me.

To think that something as simple as three blue pills can determine a life. Imagine only being alive for twelve hours a day. The eye of the mental maelstrom. Each night, transforming into a husk of what you are. Being crushed under the weight of a crashing wave. The world is spinning, and all you can do is sleep… and dream of the next morning… when you can have those

three. blue. pills.

Oh well, a start is a start. And once you start, you’re halfway done.