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Mourning Leonard Nimoy

March 4, 2015 TechyDad Geeky Pursuits, Life

Unless you just beamed back to Earth you know that, last week, Leonard Nimoy passed away at the age of 83. Nimoy played many roles during his life, but he will be best remembered as Mr. Spock – the half-human/half-Vulcan science officer and first officer serving under Captain Kirk on the USS Enterprise. As Spock, Leonard played a character who was both apart from humanity and part of it. Someone who observed human traits from afar and dealt them himself.

I was first introduced to Star Trek in middle school by a friend of mine. (The same friend who would later help me overcome some severe bullying by talking to the bullies and getting them to stop.) While I enjoyed both the original series and The Next Generation sequel series, I identified the most with two characters. In Next Generation, it was Data – the android who couldn’t feel emotions himself but tried his best to understand them. In the original series, though, I most identified with Spock. As Scott Kurtz put it: "I was an introverted math obsessed child who felt completely out of place among my friends. Mister Spock is my spirit animal." He was having a character in his comic strip describe herself, but he might as well have been describing me.

At the time, I didn’t know anything about Asperger’s Syndrome. I didn’t know why I was the way I was. All I knew about Autism was gleaned from the movie Rain Man which meant I thought it meant you talked kind of funny and could count popsicle sticks when they were dropped on the floor. Still, I knew there was something different about me. I didn’t "get" social situations like other people seemed to. I felt both apart from society and drawn to it. I couldn’t stand the spotlight yet craved to be in it. It was all too easy to imagine myself as Mister Spock observing the interactions of humans as they went about their daily business, trying to find a logical reason for it all. Somehow, not being part of it all seemed slightly less painful when I was purposefully acting as an observer.

Yes, Kirk was the man in charge. Scotty could rig anything to work in half the time he claimed it would take. Bones was cantankerous but an excellent doctor. However, it was Mister Spock whom I felt the closest to. None of that would have been possible had it not been for Leonard Nimoy’s wonderful acting. He brought lift to a beloved character and embraced it even after Star Trek left the air.

The original Star Trek was always supposed to be an optimistic view of the future. A beacon of hope. Leonard Nimoy’s acting certainly helped to give me hope during a dark time.

Farewell, Mr. Nimoy. You lived long and prospered. May your memory endure for generations to come via the characters you brought to life.

NOTE: The photo of Leonard Nimoy above is by Gage Skidmore and is released under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.0 Generic license.

Anxiety Is A Bully

January 8, 2015 TechyDad Bullies, Life, Stress

On New Year’s Eve, we indulged in something that has become a tradition in our household: Junk Food Dinner. We cook up some hors d’oeuvres and have chips and dip. The boys love the chance to eat foods that we rarely otherwise eat as we ring in the new year. NHL even made it to midnight for the first time. (JSL fell asleep earlier but woke up 5 minutes after midnight.) After the ball dropped and the boys were tucked into bed, we climbed into bed ourselves hoping for a good night’s sleep and the ability to sleep in the next day.

I woke up a couple of hours later, though, feeling off. The first thing that I could tell was wrong was that my nose felt clogged up. This began to make me anxious that I wouldn’t be able to breathe. Ever since my surgery, I’ve found that a clogged nose is quickly followed by anxiety attacks of this nature. During the day, I can stave them off by distracting myself with various activities. During the night-time, though, there is less to do. The house is quieter and the anxiety looms larger. This also brought back memories of my post-surgery anxiety attack when I couldn’t fall asleep nearly the entire night. Add in that I started to feel nauseous and my anxiety of not being able to breathe was joined by the anxiety of possibly throwing up and I was a nervous wreck. Even my own skin seemed to feel wrong.

The next day, I was feeling better. However, as nighttime got closer, I could feel my anxiety climbing. The night before had had an anxiety attack that kept me awake. Obviously, tonight was going to be no different. Obviously, tonight I was going to lie awake, getting in and out of bed and pacing around with my mind racing with worst-case-scenarios. Obviously, I was doomed to have anxiety attacks every night. Right?

That’s when I realized that my anxiety was being a bully.

Years ago, when I was safely away from the bullying I suffered in high school, I realized that bullies try to dictate reality. You’re not allowed to go to someone for help because the bully dictates that this conflict is between you and him. He can gather his friends together to taunt you as well, though, because that’s allowed (by him). Any attempt by you to seek assistance reduces your position – or so he says.

Similarly, this anxiety was framing the argument. I was approaching the night when, during the previous night I had had an anxiety attack. Therefore, my anxiety bully proclaimed, there was a 100% chance of an anxiety attack this night. And the next night. And the one after that. The anxiety bully told me that I was incapable of going to sleep and staying asleep the entire night.

In truth, though, the bullies NEED to define the rules to protect themselves from behaviors that would stop them. Seeking help doesn’t weaken the bullying victim. It strengthens them. Getting help when you need it can lead to the bully being forced to back off. Similarly, the anxiety bully was purposefully focusing in on the nights when I had an anxiety attack and ignoring all of the nights when I went to sleep and slept fine. It tried to keep my focus away from anything that might help me to increase its own power.

Thankfully, I was able to get to sleep just fine that night and proved my anxiety bully wrong. Putting your anxieties in context can be tricky when in the midst of an anxiety attack. It won’t help defeat every one you might have. However, if you feel one coming on, remembering the times that everything went smoothly might aid in warding off anxiety’s bullying tactics.

NOTE: The image above is a portion of a web comic by Lunarbaboon. He posted this comic the night I had an anxiety attack about fearing not being able to sleep due to an anxiety attack. Besides drawing funny, insightful, and amazingly entertaining comics, he obviously has hidden a camera in my house somewhere to gather his material. How else would his comics mirror my life so often? In any event, he was gracious enough to grant me permission to use part of his comic in my post. Go to his website and read a few dozen of his comics. You won’t be disappointed.

The Anxiety Loop

October 15, 2014 TechyDad Stress

When I was younger, I would often berate myself for what I perceived as social failings. If I said the wrong thing or did something slightly wrong, I’d mentally exaggerate how bad it was and berate myself for days. Given this and the bullying I endured on a daily basis, my anxiety over social situations was quite high. Over the years, the bullying went away and I learned to stop dwelling on mistakes and instead to learn from and move on. This doesn’t mean that I’m anxiety-free, however.

A few months ago, while recovering from surgery, I suffered an anxiety attack. I woke up at 2am and couldn’t get back to sleep. Every time I felt myself nearing sleep, my anxiety levels would rise and I’d be wide awake. I couldn’t even stay in bed. My entire body felt on edge. I was uncomfortable in my own skin and I felt like I needed to run around the house. Obviously not an option at two in the morning.

The next night, I was ready for a good night’s sleep, but as I got ready for bed, my anxiety levels started to rise. I kept remembering the feeling of the anxiety attack the previous night and the mere memory of it threatened to cause a repeat performance. Luckily, I was able to get to sleep and show myself that this wasn’t going to become a nightly occurrence.

A couple of nights ago, JSL wasn’t sleeping well. Every time we got him to sleep, he would wake up an hour or so later. When he finally went to sleep for the final time that night, we thought we could finally get to sleep. Then, out of nowhere and for no apparent reason, my anxiety levels skyrocketed. The blankets on me felt like they were suffocating me. The sweatshirt I was wearing felt like it was compressing my chest. I sat up, walked into the living room and tried to calm down, but I couldn’t. I tried watching TV, but it didn’t help. Neither did playing games on my phone. Eventually, the feeling passed enough for me to get some sleep.

The next day, I felt a constant level of anxiety. I felt on edge like the anxiety attack would reoccur at any moment. Talking about it or tweeting about it only seemed to fuel the anxiety. I dreaded going to bed that night wondering if a full blown attack would make a return appearance. I even went out of my way to not read my usual RSS feeds in case I needed something to do at 2am. Thankfully, I went to sleep, slept the entire night, and the anxiety attack didn’t come back. The next day my anxiety levels seemed much lower.

Still, though, it feels like the threat of another attack is close by. I don’t know what triggered this one and so don’t know what to watch out for. Was it something I ate? Stress that I was feeling but didn’t quite consciously realize? Or was something else entirely to blame. Perhaps worst of all, maybe there was no direct cause. Nothing that could have been avoided. Maybe these things will just happen at random and there isn’t anything I can do to stop them.

Have you ever had an anxiety attack? How did you deal with it or with the threat of it reoccurring?

NOTE: The "hide face" image above is by hotblack and is freely available from morgueFile.

The Voice Of Self Doubt

October 21, 2013 TechyDad Life

Over the weekend, I began reading Just A Geek by Wil Wheaton (one of my purchases from the Humble Bundle – a website that offers packages of eBooks, games, and more at a price that you choose and with the money going to charity, the authors, etc. as you define it). One of the things that stood out instantly was a voice in Wil’s head was the same voice as one that I’m plagued by.

Wil described two voices (at least up to the point I read). The first was Prove To Everyone That Quitting Star Trek Wasn’t A Mistake. That voice I don’t really have a counter for. Perhaps it’s from Asperger’s or years of bullying or something else, but I don’t really care what people think of me. There are exceptions, of course. I would really hate it if my wife suddenly thought I was a horrible person. For the most part, though, I don’t care if Random Stranger In The Store #17 thinks I must be a bad father because I’ve been forced to pull my son out of a store while he screams bloody murder. (On the flip side, I’ve learned not to be judgmental if I see a parent doing the same thing. If anything, I almost feel the need to walk up to said parent, give them a consoling hug and say "Boy have *I* been there too! You aren’t alone." I don’t do that, though, because people tend to get the wrong idea when complete strangers give them hugs. So I just send some mental good vibes their way. Much less efficient, but much less likely to get security called on me.)

Back to my point, though.

Wil’s second voice was The Voice of Self Doubt and boy do I have that one! I’m not sure what my Voice of Self Doubt’s origin was. Perhaps it was navigating a neurotypical world as an Aspie (especially one who didn’t know what Asperger’s was and just knew that this "socialization" thing was easy for everyone else but not for him for unknown reasons). Or maybe it was from constant bullying which left me paranoid that anyone and everyone was out to get me.

Whatever the reason, I’m pestered by The Voice of Self Doubt constantly. This past weekend, while working on my "sew my own bow tie for a Doctor Who costume" project, the project started to go wrong. The Voice of Self Doubt immediately chimed in. It told me to give up. It said that I’d never be able to do this right and I shouldn’t have even tried. Thankfully, The Voice of Stubbornness decided to interrupt and tell me not to give up and that I should keep trying until I got it right no matter how many times it took. After one more try, I got the project back on track and The Voice of Self Doubt went silent.

Unfortunately, sewing projects are only The Voice of Self Doubt’s opening act. Earlier this year, I wrote about my Imposter’s Syndrome. That’s the Voice of Self Doubt there. It’s constantly telling me that I really know nothing about making websites and one day someone’s going to just realize that I’ve fooled everyone into thinking I’m a good web developer. Any successes the Voice writes off as dumb luck.

In reality, I’m a very skilled web developer. I just happen to know of some people whose skills dwarf my own. That’s pretty par for the course. No matter how good you are at something, there’s always someone better than you. On the other hand, I don’t like to judge people so I don’t tend to present people who are worse than me to The Voice as counter-evidence.

If things at home don’t go perfectly, The Voice starts whispering in my ear. It starts making me doubt whether I’m a competent husband and father. The Voice will often show me blog postings of people who keep their house perfectly tidy, who cook exceptional meals every day, who engage in elaborate crafting projects with their kids, and who earn enough money to often take their families on lavish vacations. The Voice tells me that this is proof of my inadequacies.

The truth is that blog postings often leave out the whole picture. Beyond that photo of the a perfectly clean dining room is a living room overrun with toys. Beyond the recipe of the perfect dinner that was posted is the not discussed empty McDonald’s containers in the trash. Beyond the blog post about a husband and wife having a perfect time out is the non-blogged-about argument the previous night. Those details tend to get whitewashed out of a social media presence. The result is that your average family, warts and all, looks perfect online. Then, when you compare your situation (with the warts not glossed over) with the seemingly perfect online lives of others, I know this is true, but The Voice of Self Doubt twists it to play to my insecurities.

The Voice of Self Doubt seems to enjoy having me wallow in misery. The more miserable I am, the more I resort to my old high school anti-bullying tactic of "hide your feelings down deep and avoid all social contact." The more I resort to that tactic, the more it’s just me and The Voice there. The happier I am, the less time I spend with The Voice of Self Doubt.

I’ve fought The Voice of Self Doubt for many years and will likely fight it for many more. As I continue to read Wil Wheaton’s book, I’ll be sure to keep an eye on how he handles his Voice of Self Doubt. Maybe it will give me some ideas for silencing my own.

NOTE: The "question face" image above is by nicubunu and is available via OpenClipArt.org.

Aloha Friday: Man Enough To Cry

November 18, 2011 TechyDad Aloha Friday, Emotions

There are days when the various pressures I face get to be too much. Though I try to keep a strong, stable face to the world, I’ll often feel like I just want to retreat to a dark corner and cry for a few hours. With that feeling invariably comes a small voice that tells me “Real men don’t cry. Real men hide their feelings and show as little emotion as possible.”

I know that society tells us that men who cry are wimps and guys who push their feelings down deep are strong, but I think it’s the other way around. I’ve done the whole hide-what-you-are feeling thing. It doesn’t make you strong. It just makes bad feelings fester in you until they either explode or poison you (or your relationships). I think men who are comfortable enough to cry are the stronger of the two groups. They’re the ones who stand up to the Real Man Stereotype and shatter it.

My Aloha Friday question for today is: Do you think any less of a man if he admits that he cries? Also, have you ever felt like hiding in a dark corner and crying? What do you do when you feel this way?

P.S. If you haven’t already, go visit FollowerHQ and let me know what you think of my Twitter application.

Thanks to Kailani at An Island Life for starting this fun for Friday. Please be sure to head over to her blog to say hello and sign the linky there if you are participating.

Aloha #114

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