Tuesday, April 6, 2010

The Art of Relationships, Part V - anti-depressants and emotional self-preservation


In 'Ted talks' Helen Fisher briefly discusses the effects of anti-depressants on the brain and the area where attachment occurs.

It is so significant, it bears repeating here.

And to be clear, this does not apply to short term use for conditions that would otherwise leave the patient with little hope for their existence, placing them in danger of wanting to 'meet their maker' before their designated time (if there is such a thing - food for thought and another post).

But considering that about 100 million prescriptions of anti-depressants are filled every year in the U.S. alone, (many of which are being extended into long term use and going globally generic), there is tremendous cause for concern.

In a nutshell, here's what she said:

Anti-depressants raise the levels of seratonin and that suppresses the dopamine circuit in your brain which is associated with romantic love. Plus it kills the sex drive, which kills orgasm, which kills that flood of drugs released that's associated with attachment in that area of the brain. And a "world without love is a deadly place."

Her words. And I couldn't agree more.

It scares me to think the world is headed in a direction full of automatons walking around functioning perfectly well, but unable to feel enough to form a real attachment to anyone.

But I've known many people on anti-depressants. You couldn't really tell if they didn't fess up, because they are functioning... properly.

Now I don't think Fisher is right about everything she says... For instance, she "doesn't honestly think we are an animal that was built to be happy but rather we were an animal that was built to reproduce."

I think we are inherently happy, (or perhaps more accurately, beings designed to re-access the peaceful state that is our true nature). That's why being miserable bugs us so much - because it's not a comfortable state - but more on that later.

Anyway, to give her credit, she does go on to say we make our own happiness and can still make good relationships as a result of that choice. (Which I think is also true but not because we are fundamentally unhappy).

Unfortunately, I think my view has caused the demise of some of my own personal relationships but that is neither here nor there. (I'm still trying to figure that one out).

But Fisher's point regarding anti-depressants in instinctively valid.

Anti-depressants may help people to be less depressed. But to do that, they have to make them feel less about well, everything.

It's not that they walk around like zombies, they just walk around feeling less of what it is to be human.

Instead of a spectrum of emotions that ranges from A to Z, on anti-depressants, theirs runs somewhere from M to P.

Now assuming A would be complete and utter bliss, and Z would be its opposite (ie; sheer agony), you might not want your life to reflect the entire spectrum but... to grow, a greater range is necessary.

And as a human being, you couldn't even begin to understand one emotion without having at some point, felt its opposite.

A person who lives only in suffering cannot conceive of happiness and vice versa. But a range of emotion that runs from M to P would leave you with little room to grow as you could never experience the opposite of anything.

Personally, I wouldn't mind starting around C and ending around W. Or maybe even starting at A and ending at W.

Anyway, I think it's our ability to harness our emotions but also let them out that frees us to experience what it is to be fully human.

But anti-depressants aren't the only killers of love.

Sometimes I think people suffer so much they've developped their own version of anti-depressants. They stop feeling. Or they have walls so high you can't see over them. Or nothing gets through.

And that's all fine and dandy. As a matter of fact, it serves the very noble purpose of self-preservation. Unfortunately, it also has the distinct effect of eventually making one less human, less accessible.

And a life lived like that, would totally suck.

What remains in that case, is a gap. And leaping beyond that void to embrace what is rightfully theirs to have - the A to Z part of the human experience - becomes an impossibility because they spend most of their time in an unfeeling state.

It's called apathy.

Also known as a neutral state because it harbors neither positive nor negative emotion, yet it is not positively detached as it stems from an uncaring, self-protective state.

And it's the most difficult of emotions (because it's a non-emotion) to transcend, as it sits at the bottom of the ladder. Alone. In the dark. A mark of someone's fear of not wanting to feel anything anymore (lest the opposite eventually rear its ugly head), yet so insidiously comfortable it makes a mockery of the rest of the emotional family and their silly 'feelings'.

That's what I think anti-depressants do. You laugh, you cry, you still function. But how much of it do you really feel? In your gut? In your heart?

I think the frustration and joy of experiencing emotions you want to let loose on (love) and those you fear (its opposite, rejection), are gone.

And so is your motivation to find the good ones and risk what it takes to keep them.

Long term anti-depressant use and long-term emotional self-preservation are each habits that keep you safe, but also limit your human experience.

The good news is, both are choices. And choices, can be changed.

The Art of Relationships, Part VI - Is love just an offshoot of a biological function?


The thing about all this reading and researching I've been doing on that ever-elusive topic love is that it's starting to feel a bit hollow.

Something is missing.

I read it and think "Wow, this is amazing information!" and yet something inside the core of my being is nattering at me. And I'm trying not to be all Jane Austen about these things because when it comes right down to it, I will abide by the truth I seek over a false sentiment any day (in spite of the fact that I'm terribly attached to my sentiments).

The thing is, even though there have been leaps and bounds done in brain research, for the most part, they don't know a whole helluva lot. And for good reason...

Our 3-4 pound brain contains about a trillion nerve cells, each of which is connected to 10,000 or so others, for a total of roughly 10 million billion connections.

Any connection that goes askew can have a domino effect on a whole whack of other things. But what really happens in there? Can you seriously tell me, that our response to the world and others is ALL just a biological mechanism?

My big question is, (which I will address in the next post) does any of it happen outside of the brain? On a soul level? In the cosmos perhaps?

But I digress...

Most of what we have learned about the brain comes from brain injuries so freakishly severe, the person who suffered them should have died but didn't. So we get to see how different parts of the brain change certain behaviours in people because well, they're still alive to show us.

The result is behavioral and cognitive changes that let researchers better understand that this part of the brain or that part of the brain is the hotbed of certain functions.

The most famous (and probably the first to give researchers insight) is the case of Phineas Gage who in 1848 had a terrible construction accident and ended up with a pole through his frontal lobe.

Ouch.

He survived just fine, but suffered severe personality and emotional problems as a result.

Conclusion? Frontal lobe = the seat of your emotions.

Disruption to this area has the potential to cause a whole host of problems from your inability to deal with stress to unreasonable emotional reactions (your spouse forgetting the bananas you put on the grocery list does not warrant your freaking out).

There are however, not nearly enough consistencies (due probably to the gazillion synaptic connections we can't actually trace) in the damage/resulting behaviour spectrum to warrant any definitive or absolute cause and effect rules.

For example...

Through the course of my reading, I came across a most interesting case study of a man who had suffered severe short and long term memory loss due to a car accident that damaged the memory structure of his brain (though he could function in everyday life remembering how to do basic things like brushing his teeth, making a sandwich, etc.)

He couldn't for the life of him however, remember that he had been injured in an accident, and therefore couldn't remember his condition. To make matters worse, he did not recognize anyone in his life. Not short or long term acquaintances, friends, or even family members...

... except for his wife.

Even the textbook attributed this anomaly to the power of love as it was inconsistent with his other symptoms.

Alas, his wife was his only link to reality and became the one responsible for retelling him every 10-15 minutes who he was, who the people in his life were, and what had happened to him.

(And if you haven't yet seen it, the movie 50 First Dates explores such a condition).

So even though researchers have found those spots in the brain that are attributed to love and can break them down to a chemical reaction, this must be, if not a faulty concept, at the very least, terribly incomplete.

We cannot, (and never will), be able to fully explain the power of true love. Nor can we with any certainty, break it down an emotion that arises purely as an offshoot of a biological function.

I think we live within our biologies but also outside of them - neither are separate. And the sciences rarely incorporate consciousness as an integral part of our being because they can't find it.

But just because they can't find it, doesn't mean it doesn't exist.

And that, is worth exploring... next time...