Physiological analysis of depression

Being somewhat prone to a 'negative outlook', I have sunk once more into my cyclical bout of depression. As sure as the sun will set and the moon will rise its shiny head above the night's sky, this waxing and waning emotional cycle will remain with me throughout the rest of my life.

I hate myself for writing these negative words, and failing the strength to change myself for the better.

My psychological symptoms are predictable, boring, and barely worth mentioning. 'Selfish', 'superficial', and 'loser-ish' have also cut through the air in this household.

As a PhD student in a physiology laboratory, I observe with interest the inverse relationship between declining psychological health and increasing physiological symptoms. These include excessive tiredness,  headaches, a feeling of distance from the external world, inability to put thoughts into words, concentration problems, lack of appetite, and extreme sensitivity to noise. Random heart palpitations are a new addition to the list, which I cannot pass off as the result of excessive coffee consumption.

I often wonder at the neurotransmitter balance within my brain during times such as these. I imagine any precious few-and-far-between 'positive' neural connections breaking down through lack of use, and new 'negative' synapses forming and strengthening, like a spider's web of hate that you will never get out of your hair. Only one option, and that's to cut it off.

But how did this happen in the first place? I've recounted my activities over the past few weeks, looking for a cause, and come up with many possibilities:

1. Tiredness. Going to bed late, waking up early and snoozing through the alarm, rather than just sleeping to a decent hour and getting up straight away. (I've always hated people who do that previously!)

2. Overworking without sufficient rest times. Several 7am to 7pm work days in one week, and insufficient time off over the weekend.

3. Lack of normal social interaction. Inhabiting a darkened microscope room, alone with my thoughts but without any light or human contact for the majority of the day.

5. Alcohol. Fantastic, delicious, stress-relieving wine that caused me to go into a state of excessive hyperactivity in the face of little-experienced human contact, followed by a depression hangover from my depleted excitatory neurotransmitter reserves.

I cannot yet claim that I've fallen into a deep pit of depression. But the quicksand is tugging at my ankles, and climbing... Best to punch it in the face early on, and tell it to f*ck off back to the depths of my warped psyche where I usually hide it.

 

 

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Facebook sucks

I remember when I first joined Facebook, about 5 years ago. It was probably before most other Aussies, as I was living in Canada at the time, closer to Facebook's roots, and The Social Network hadn't yet filtered it's way Down Under.

I don't think I fully understood what this social networking thing was all about.       Working in the Canadian Rocky Mountains, I lived in a communal house, and in these early days, the people I lived with where the only people on Facebook that I knew. Don't I see these people every day? Why do I need to talk to them on-line as well? I cared little.

But as the months passed and I left to travel around the Americas, I realised how convenient a tool Facebook was for keeping in contact with people who you don't see every day. As my friends and family back in Australia joined the Facebook crowd, suddenly I understood the purpose of social networking.

I was quickly addicted. But surely all addictions have negative connotations? Facebook definitely did for me. In my early twenties at the time, I was interested in some boy or other that I met whilst travelling, and found Facebook an excellent tool for casually keeping in contact, where phone calls and text messages would have been inappropriately forward. Eventually of course, I discovered the painful sensation that comes from watching the desired suddenly change their relationship status to 'In a Relationship', followed by the excessive 'lovey dovey' wall posts that followed. Every time I logged on, there was something new staring me in the face, and I swear the relationship status hangs around in the news feed longer than any other type of notification.

I started hating Facebook, but I was still addicted. Depressed, I tried to find ways to stop myself logging on. I failed most of the time, and had to live with the extreme mood fluctuations that ensured. Eventually I found the 'hide posts from this person' function, and life was bearable again.

Now I'm 'In a Relationship' myself, and have several years of mental growth buffering me from these on-line social challenges. But Facebook's negative associations have stayed with me, and I seem to have undergone an extreme reaction in the opposite direction. Not a particularly social person to begin with, the early addiction to Facebook may have to just reflected a growing stage in my life and attempt to fit in with my peers. 5 years later, I don't give a sh!t about my peers and actively avoid any kind of on-line social contact.

I HATE FACEBOOK. My computer remembers my password for me as I can't remember it myself, and every time I log on (probably once a month, maximum) I have to teach myself to use it again, because something else has changed. (What's this timeline thing?).

I guess you could say I survived the Facebook revolution. Perhaps now I've just grown up and care less about fitting in with other people. But I imagine that for a growing teenager, having to watch these unnaturally public displays of affection and personal rejection thrust in their faces could have lasting effects.

However, maybe I didn't escape so unharmed either. Whilst I'm no longer stalking some un-reciprocated potential lover, (I've caught one since then ;) ) I still feel a sense of inadequacy when forced to compare my own life to the on-line persona of those peers from my youth. "She's done this, he's done that, everyone else is having fun!!" blah, blah. It's all so fake, and I feel the urge to retreat to my shell. I'd say that I've developed an unhealthy aversion to on-line social interactions, and in today's age, this severely limits my friendship potential.

Social networking is here to stay. Facebook has outlived its predecessors such as MySpace and Bebo in popularity, but surely this can't last forever. Google+ waits in the wings to take over. But scarred from public on-line personal interactions, I prefer the relative anonymity of Twitter. More on that later...

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Coffee guilt

Every morning I walk past my favourite coffee-selling establishment. On my newfound student earnings, $3.50 for a coffee plus a muffin from Hollywood Bakery is more than appealing. It's a need, not a want. Perhaps the plastic-coated chairs and cheap laminated flooring invites too many homeless people off the streets of the less-than-appealing suburb in which I live. But I enjoy the risk of taking a self-serve muffin, as the coffee is surprisingly delicious.

I view my Hollywood Bakery mornings as somewhat of a treat. Less is more, and everything in moderation. All those sayings that apply especially well to food and diet. What's more, it's the psychological effects that I truly desire. I rely on these infrequent treats to lift me up from the bowels of depression that I can honestly say that I've landed myself in already (Only 4 months into my PhD!).

I'm not going to launch into a long explanation of my mental well-being, (as all not being so well, it's rather boring). But I will say that life isn't so simple, and my 'coffee pleasures' are in fact more often than not 'scoffing at pleasures'. In my depressed state, negative feelings such as guilt and anxiety spring up their nasty heads at every opportunity, and the mere suggestion from my internal devils that I'm overindulging myself with coffee and muffins at the wee hours of the morning does just that. Be gone, coffee guilt! I'm so confused...

But here's a study that makes me feel better about it. Perhaps I should just stop holding back and just go for it, pell-mell to Hollywood every morning in an effort to ward off depression with shots of caffeine. (Ironically, I chose this strange terminology thinking that it means 'directly towards at a rapid pace', rather than the 'jumbled and confused' meaning that I was trying to move away from.)

From my own personal experience, I know that when I'm feeling depressed (at work anyway) I lean on caffeine to speed up the snail's pace inside my mind. Or perhaps its the feelings of accomplishment when coffee kicks away 3:30-itis and allows me to read that complicated journal article that keeps the depression at bay.

I doubt anyone is following this, and I doubt even more that anyone is reading this. Is anyone out there?

I feel so depressed, I'm going to get a coffee.

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