2020...Irregular

I started this blog as a means of coping...taking thoughts that were swimming around my head, sometimes uncontrollably, and trying to put them in order and make sense of them.  It did help at times, and it served as a good outlet.  I posted a few times, though rarely.  It wasn't that things changed significantly and I didn't need this outlet or find it useful; it was just hard to prioritize it.  Life is busy, man.  But I would come back to it later.  At least that was my plan.

2020 is here...about a third of the way through, actually...and all plans have gone out the window.  We're over a month into staying at home during the Covid19 Global Pandemic.  Plans from before all this are meaningless as we're shifting into a different world than we envisioned.  The common phrase we're using is that we're going to be experiencing a "New Normal."

There is some exaggeration there, though it depends on who you are.  Some people's lives are being turned upside down by this, but many of us are not -seeing it- yet to believe it as we're all staying in our homes and experiencing the world through TV and computers. 

As for me?  Life is weird.  I am safe as is my family.  We're home, making do.  We still have a long way to go, but we're very fortunate and grateful to have our health and security, which we recognize and admit every day.  Things feel different, but we're persevering and making do.  We're lucky.

Work is weird.  This is where challenges have come.  Early on, it was purely a situation of reacting.  Everyone at work had to immediately adjust to not having access to the office, their labs, the classrooms and plan not to do so for an indefinite amount of time.  What would that look like?  How extreme would it be?  What expectations were there for performance given people needed to focus on the health and safety of themselves and their families?  The situation was constantly changing and there was no chance to look ahead, just react.  In some ways, it was easy: focus on the now and don't worry about what's coming ahead.  With the help and support of colleagues, peers, and everyone I work with, we managed to put things in a situation where people were safe, expectations managed, and everyone was set to define what they would do and how.

Now...this "new normal" work environment is allowing me to look forward, but I'm also being forced to look behind.  That's where there's lots of frustration and worry.  The volume of everything in the first few weeks was incredibly high: emails, meetings, issues to address.  Things had to be triaged based on priorities and urgency, with many being re-evaluated as the conditions around us changed.  Some things fell by the wayside.  And that's what I'm worried about.  I'm sure some things got buried and possibly lost.  Not due to them being unimportant, but because compared to everything else, they weren't "SUPER important right now!" level priorities.  I've found a couple of things that I wished I had come back to weeks ago.  I've had to deal with a few of those, "Hey, I hate to keep emailing you about this..." correspondences.  But what I worry about are the ones where I'm not finding signs of them or being reminded about.  They just passed without me doing anything.

So I apologize.  I apologize to anyone out there that I did not get back to in proper time.  I apologize to those people who asked me for something and I dropped the ball.  And I apologize to myself--I wish I had been better organized and able to manage.

A key difference now is that I think I can start to accept my own apology.  In years past, I would just beat myself up about these things over and over again.  Sometimes for extended periods of time.  And believe me, I probably still will.  However, I also know that we were facing a GLOBAL PANDEMIC.  I need to allow myself to recalibrate my expectations.  I need to acknowledge that there were some things that were outside my control.  I can't expect to handle everything perfectly, but I know I was doing the best that I could at the time.  That's really all I can ask.

So I'm doing ok.  Everything is weird.  I wish I were more eloquent but that seems to be about as an appropriate way of describing 2020 as I can think of.  I'm going to update things a bit more regularly here, including focusing on some work stuff and specifics about fun things that I'm working on with my collaborators and research group, as well as life in general with my family.  Everything may be weird, but there is still good stuff out there to celebrate and enjoy.  And I'm going to allow myself that.

2018: A Step in the Right Direction

2018 was a new kind of year for me.  I don’t really do New Year’s resolutions: if I decided that I needed to do something new or different, then I was going to start then and there.  Why wait until the calendar rolls over?  

But I entered 2018 in a bad place.  I was anxious.  Angry.  Unhappy.  Sad.  Lost.  None of it made sense: I had the job that I wanted as a kid, my family was amazing, and we had just gotten settled in a new home.  But I didn’t feel right or happy, and I didn’t know how to get out of it.  And if I stayed the course, it was not going to end well.   So I decided to start working on myself.

2018 was a year that I discovered self-care.  I knew what it what the phrase meant, but I didn’t really know what it meant for me.  I needed to find happiness and a sense of calm.  I needed to be able to go home and feel good about myself and what I did that day.  Or if things went bad, I needed to find a way not to let it become all-consuming, to recover and take on things the next day refreshed and ready to battle.

Part of this stems from my OCD.  It puts me in bad places mentally now and again or puts me in a thought loop that I get trapped in.  I had known that for a long time, but I thought it was just part of me.  That was how it was going to be forever.  But in 2018, I sought help.  I talked to people.  Talking things through, recognizing patterns of behavior and outcomes, identifying coping mechanisms all helped me stop feeling weak and gave me a bit of a sense of control.  It’s still ongoing—it will be for a while—but it did help me better understand myself.

And in talking through things, I realized that I had forgotten how to be happy.  Or even what it meant.  I had gotten into my head that if things were good, that I should always be happy.  Smiling.  Music and dancing all around me.   It was an unrealistic expectation, yet I felt angry, resentful, and scared that it wasn’t my reality.  And the fact that it wasn’t meant that something was wrong.  So I spent all my time and effort trying to identify problems, pick them apart and solve them.  And when no problems existed, I worked to identify which problems could come my way so that I could prevent them.  It was all about defense: prepare for loss so that it doesn’t happen, rather than enjoy whatever you have at this moment.  

Instead, I had to learn to allow myself to be happy.  I had to take time to look around and see the good that was around me and take pride and comfort in what was there.  I took the occasional afternoon off and went golfing.  I allowed myself to read a book instead of review papers in bed.  I listened at home to the conversations that were taking place rather than trying to end them to go off to work or to run errands.  And slowly, I started to see things I had been overlooking or taking for granted.  There were things around me that I could smile about again.

I’m still not completely there yet.  Not 100%.  But I know it’s a process.  It’s not something that I do and then never have to worry about again.  It’s something I have to continue to work on and push forward with.  But there are good things out there and things to be happy about.  2018 was a step in the right direction.  I’m looking to continue down that path in 2019.

I am Not the Macho Man that I Thought I’d Grow Up to Be

People push away feelings all the time.  Need to make a decision and want to be rational instead of emotional?  Makes perfect sense.  Had a bad day at work and if you think about it you’re going to get angrier and angrier?  Push it away and move on; it’s not worth it.   Things like that happen all the time.  Makes sense not to get caught up in the negative emotions.  There are too many things to actually enjoy, right?

But then think about the good things that do happen.  The things that bring us happiness and joy…we want to hold on to those, right?  Enjoy the moment and preserve that feeling?  Yeah, but then you realize that at some point that joy is going to go away…and being so happy is going to make the drop off in feelings that much worse.  So maybe it’s not worth being so happy as it’s all going to end anyway.  And also, maybe getting caught up in that happiness is blinding you to what’s going on around you, something that will cause you sadness soon.  So rather than being so happy, maybe you should be on your guard to protect against or at least minimize the next let down.  Maybe, it’s not even worth being happy…it’s all going to end anyway.

Emotions are not something I handle well.  I never have.  They’ve confused me, distracted me, and outright frightened me at times.  For me, they opened up weakness and vulnerability.  That led to stress and unease.  Anger led to frustration and impulsive behavior.  Even ambition and drive were to be avoided, as they left you open to let down and disappointment.   All of it led to regret, as the negative feelings then sat with me, and I would kick myself for having dug myself into that hole.

Rather than make myself susceptible and open to the negative feelings that seemed inevitable, for a long time I avoided emotions and feelings in general.  It wasn’t a totally conscious decision; I kind of thought it was expected of me and what I drifted towards as a result.  As a male, I wanted to grow up, be a provider for my family, be the rock that they could lean on, and in times of stress or trouble, be the steady and reliable foundation that was expected of me.  I wouldn’t get too caught up in anything other than the occasional ball game, and when it came to the day-to-day stuff, I was going to be the consistently stoic person that went through the day, handling everything that came his way one by one.  No surprises and in total control, day after day. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Yes, it’s a generic characterization, a stereotype of what being a MAN was, but it was what I had seen on TV, in movies, in life, and it’s what I expected to be the norm.  I wouldn’t say that it was a picture of happiness, but it was a picture of what seemed to be “right.”  That was what I was supposed to grow up to be.

And to be honest, it’s kind of what I hoped for.  Being happy meant there was something you could lose.  And losing happiness was worse than never being happy at all.  At least, that’s what I thought, and it’s how I approached my life.  

To this day, it’s still a default approach for me, despite the fact that I know that to fight those emotions and those feelings deprives me of positive things in life that make it worth living.  The loving smile from my wife.  My daughter’s laugh.  Even taking the time to look around and appreciate what I have.  But I would think: "It will go away and you'll be left empty."  "Don't be satisfied as there's something bad coming you have to prepare for."  To get too caught up in any of it exposed a chink in my armor.   Emotions and weakness were one and the same.

Believe me, when I say or write that, I’m fully aware of how it comes across.  I would never advise anyone to go through life like that.  I would tell them to enjoy the moment, be happy with what you have, embrace the good, and let go of the bad.  What good is life if there’s no happiness?

I'm good at giving advice.  Terrible at listening.

It’s been a constant struggle for me.  I’ve suppressed emotions for a long time.  Largely because, in the past, they were dominated by negative ones.  Feelings of sadness.  Of loneliness.  Anger and frustration.  I didn’t know how to handle them or how to deal with them.  I couldn’t move on.  I couldn’t even fight them.  Instead, I buried them.  Pushed them down.  If I didn’t FEEL, then I could focus.  I could do the things that at some point in my life, when I allowed myself, would make me happy.  And eventually, I thought, it’d be great.  Or at least it’d be fine.

But after many decades of doing that, of pushing things down and holding things in, I realized it wasn’t going anywhere good.  As much as I thought I was protecting myself, I was really just bottling things in.  Rather than going away, they began pushing back.  And not in a good way; I found myself getting angrier without much provocation.  I found myself nervous about things that I could not identify—anxiety would build and I couldn’t find a cause.  And more and more, I found myself feeling sad, a state of mind that just generally sat with me from morning and through night, not because of anything that had happened around me, but because I wasn’t allowing myself to work through anything, to acknowledge the negative feelings, and then accept and move on.  Instead, I used them to stoke this internal fire that would, at times, become too hot to handle, and it would just permeate into my subconscious and impact my mood.

A lot of this, I’m sure, sounds pretty typical. I’m sure we all know multiple people who have been guilty of this at times.  And in the short-term, it may even be useful, pushing aside distractions so that you can focus on what is important in the moment.  

But I can tell you, that long-term, it is not a solution.  It leads to frustration.  It leads to loneliness.  It leads to pain.  You begin to lose sight as to what it is in a given moment that bothers you: is it the coffee isn’t as good as yesterday?  Is it the thing at work from last week you haven’t completed?  Is it the comment that so-and-so said 15 years ago?  For me, any of them were possible, and it became apparent that at some point, and some point soon, I was going to break.

I’ve talked to people about why I feel a given way and learned a lot about myself.  To my wife.  To my daughter.  To my therapist.  Saying and acknowledging things have given me new insight as what it is that makes me who I am.  It tells me what I value, what I’m looking for in life.  It tells me what I find good in the world and what I want to change.  Most importantly, it has told me who I am.

Yes, it comes with its drawbacks.  Sometimes I have to deal with things in the moment as they come up, rather than push them aside to “power on” with whatever it is that I’m doing.  So it means a slight delay or detour when I’m confronted with sadness or disappointment.  But it also means that I find myself presented with small joys and finding happiness in little things in life.  Those little bits of pleasures are things that I had denied myself previously.  And I hadn’t appreciated how much I had missed.

So I realize now not to fight emotions.  I’m far from perfect at it, but I am working on it.  I understand emotions are not to be feared.  That they are not to be fought.  That they are part of who you are and help you navigate the world every day.  Worry and stress are signs of discomfort and give you help in setting priorities and how you approach the world.  Anger is a consequence of having a moral compass and defining what you think is right and wrong.  Happiness is not something that is eventually lost, but our reward we get in return for giving something of meaning to the world. 

Knowing all that, it makes me a better prepared to face the world and not only meet the goals that I set for myself, but know, clearly, and confidently, what those goals are.  Because I have allowed myself to FEEL, and to acknowledge those feelings, I am becoming much more comfortable with who I am.

2017 No More

2017. 

I’m not completely sure how I feel about it yet.  Time is needed.  It was a year of sadness, frustration, and anger.  Those emotions seem to dominate when I look back and think about the last year.  But that’s not all it was; there was good in there as well.  I just have to work to find it at times.

It was a year where I looked at myself and realized that I wanted to change things.  How I approached life.  How I interacted with others.  How I looked at myself.  It was a year of growth for me, and one that I hope is for the better.

Looking around, I’m embarrassed by what I have seen happen on the national and international stages.  People we look to as leaders, entertainers, or informants have disappointed me time and time again.  While this is not new, in the past it felt like things would fade away over time.  However the volume of news, revelations, bad decisions, statements, or what-have-you was overwhelming.  Every day seemed to be filled with a jab, gut punch, or uppercut from which we never recovered.  I know that I’m not alone in thinking that. The news this year was a constant barrage of misery.

I found myself going to work but unable to concentrate.  It used to be that I was good at separating work and everything else that was going on around me; I could compartmentalize and deal with things as they happened.  But the overall stress caused by what was happening around me was too much.  It was hard for me to deal with.  My morning ritual became “have a cup of coffee and sigh with disappointment" until leaving for work.

There was personal stress as well.  As a family, we decided to buy a new home; this involved selling our old one as well.  I will spare you the details, but generally it is agreed that real estate transactions are among the biggest sources of stress and that held true here.  In the end, the process was completed, and we’re very happy for it, but it was an emotional roller coaster

On top of it all, there were emergencies that popped up, conflicts with individuals, and feeling like I was falling behind on all of my responsibilities (professional and personal).  Disappointment and frustration were my primary emotions.  

Earlier this year, I started coming more and more to grips with my OCD.  It’s generally triggered by stress, and this year it worked overtime.  Come mid-December, I had gotten so used to being overwhelmed that even though things seemed to begin to settle down, I’d create issues in my head that would work to just sustain the stress-levels I had grown accustomed to.  I felt helpless.  

I’ve started taking some meds for this….not constant, just something to help when I’m feeling like things are growing beyond my ability to cope.  I’ll see how that goes and hope that’ll get the job done.

But looking back at 2017 and thinking about how I made it through it, there's one major thing that I had going for me: knowing that every day I could return home to a healthy, and supportive family.  I leaned on them this year more than ever, and they carried me over the finish line.  My wife and my daughter were amazing, and I struggle to imagine where I would be without them.  It's time for me to repay them.

And with that, I know that I’m going to face 2018 differently.  I spent the entire year reacting.  I let stuff happen to me and around me, and then would find a way to deal or respond.  I’m not going to do that this year.  I’m still figuring out how I’m going to do it, and I’ll document it in the future.  But I’m going to be proactive this year—not let other people dictate my happiness and not just wait for things to get better.  I’m going to make my mental health a priority and remember that there are ways to have fun and joy out of life.  But I’m also going to make sure I help others do the same.  We’re in this together.

I can't do it all

No one ever told me that at age 40, I’d be trying to answer the same question that I got asked at age 4: what do I want to be when I grow up?

At an early age, I knew I wanted to be a scientist.  I went to college to get a degree in physics.  I went to grad school and got a PhD in Planetary Science.  I was a postdoctoral researcher at two different institutions, NASA and the Carnegie Institution, before being hired at the University of Chicago as a faculty member of the Department of the Geophysical Sciences.  By all accounts, I am a scientist.

But there are many different aspects of my job.  And I’m beginning to think about…wonder…question…is there more that I should/want to be doing?

For a long time, I was only focused on doing research.  That’s what I was told that a scientist does: carries out experiments or does calculations that advance our knowledge of the world and universe in which we live.  That is what I saw as my main role, and that was where I put most of my effort.  It’s been amazing—the feeling of discovering something new or being the first person to see how pieces of the universe fit together is an incredible rush.  Despite all the hard work and frustrating false starts that come with carrying out an experiment, writing a computer code, or waiting for the right moment to witness an event, that feeling of realization and awe when you see something no one else had witnessed before immediately gets you hooked and keeps you coming back for more.  It’s a drug.  It’s intoxicating.

But as a scientist, and more as a professor, my job description extends beyond doing research.  I’m an educator: I teach classes.  I’m an advisor: I train students and postdocs to be independent scientists of their own.  I’m a colleague: I’m part of a department and university whose goals are to create an academic community where the whole is greater than the sum of their parts.  I’m an ambassador: I publicize the discoveries and achievements that I and others make to the public.  I’m an advocate: I work to ensure that funding and opportunities are there for others to continue on our march for deeper insights and more knowledge.  These are important responsibilities that require significant time and effort.

Take teaching.  I teach two classes per year.  A lot of faculty that I am around look at it as a necessary burden; one they do because they have to, but it’s the research that really is what motivates them and excites them.  I must admit, while I have enjoyed teaching and take my responsibility seriously, it has been a lower priority than my research for a long time.  That’s due to many things: pressure from peers, advice from mentors, and self-imposed sense of what defined my career.  It’s never that I wasn’t trying; I just wasn’t trying as much as I could.

And this is the crux of the conflict that I’ve struggled with: I can’t put my full effort into everything.  I have limited time, energy, and brain power.  But as I look at the responsibilities that I have as a scientist, I wonder if I need to re-evaluate how I allocate those resources.

I want to be a better teacher and educate students so that they have the science literacy and knowledge needed to appreciate the world that they live in as well as to make informed decisions about the scientific issues they will face in the future.  I want to be a better advocate for science and my field, increasing diversity and ensuring equal opportunities for my colleagues, both in the present and the future.  I want to reach out more to the public, making what we learn and know from our research available to everyone, not just other scientists or those who have the money/opportunity to go to college.  I want to be leader, working to help identify what scientific goals we, as a community, set for ourselves in the near and distant future and working to ensure that our limited resources are allocated to meet those goals.  

On top of that, I am a person.  I have my own goals, and at times I feel selfish for thinking about them.  I am a father and a husband, and each of these require my full effort and energy (totally worth it, as they are both amazingly rewarding).  I want to experience more in life, too.  I want to travel.  I want to learn more outside of my field.  I want to cook and eat fine foods, and spend days reading by the lake.  I want to enjoy life, rather than jumping from one responsibility to the next.

I’m not giving up on any of it.  But it’s time for a change.  I need to reprioritize and accept that I can’t do it all.  I’m not changing careers or fields or anything.  But I am thinking about what to do differently and how.  How can I satisfy my ambitions and sense of obligation?  What will allow me to feel like I am contributing, while getting the most joy and satisfaction out of my efforts.  Perhaps I will do things differently than my colleagues would do or are doing right now.  Maybe they prioritize their responsibilities differently than I do.  That’s ok.  I support their decisions.  It doesn’t mean we’re fighting different wars; we’re just battling on different fronts.

OCD and Me

I have Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder.   

OCD.  The demon that has haunted me since I was a little kid has a name.   I only learned this recently.  Before, I thought that in navigating the difficulties and frustrations off life, others had the mental toughness to cope with while I did not.  That I was just weak.  After years of stress, sadness, fright, anxiety, and self-loathing, I learned that it was a bit more complicated.

OCD is a mental disorder that manifests itself in many different ways.  I don’t need the books on my shelf to be arranged in a particular way.  I don’t need to wash my hands every five minutes.  I don’t need to turn the lights on and off exactly five times before walking down the hallway.  Those are compulsions that I haven’t really had to deal with.  Though I will admit, when I’m tired or particularly  stressed, I do find myself exhibiting signs of that kind of behavior.  And I am doing it more frequently these days.

For me, things are tilted more toward the obsessional end of things.  My brain locks onto an unpleasant, stressful thought or memory and runs it over and over again.  It's not productive in the least; no new insights are provided nor any do any solutions present themselves.  Instead it's all about getting caught up in the turmoil of why it happened (not that I can change it) or the emotional baggage it carries with it (which just leads to greater and greater despair).  No matter how much sense it makes to just “let it go,” I can’t.  

Imagine having a video library of all the painful memories you have: the mistakes you have made, times when you were embarrassed, or instances when you were hurt by someone else.  Then imagine being forced to watch one video from that library over and over again.  Most people may be annoyed or upset by it, but would get up and walk away, removing themselves from the source of distress.  But imagine that instead, you sit there, eyes glued to the screen, thinking that if you watch it enough times, the outcome will be different or you’ll find some detail that redeems the experience in some way.  You know it’s impossible, but you can’t help yourself.  So you stare, watching that painful moment repeatedly.  Even if you try to walk away, you find yourself running back to the chair to watch one more time.  And so you sit there, stuck, experiencing that regret, embarrassment, or hurt over and over again.

Sometimes it isn’t even something real; sometimes it’s something that didn’t actually happen, a hypothetical or imagined event that still manages to make me anxious.  At times it is totally far-fetched.  Yet, as I sit and think about it, I begin to convince myself that my memory is off.  Maybe it was a traumatic experience and I repressed the memory.  Maybe it really happened and I blocked it.  Eventually I become convinced that since I’m thinking about it, it must have been real.  So the stress levels build.  No amount of logic works to convince me differently.  So there I find myself feeling immense guilt, grief, or anxiety over something that I’ve completely made up.

Part of what makes it so frustrating is that the solution seems simple: stop thinking about whatever bothers you.  That’s what others would do; other people will have a bad thought or memory and might spin it in their minds for bit, then move on.  But I can’t.  And the harder I try, the more difficult it becomes.  Much like having the chicken pox and being tempted to scratch all over, I can’t help but give in. But instead of relief, I just keep making it worse and worse.

As a kid, I remember getting feelings of sadness.  These were caused by any number of things: tough times with friends, recognizing some mistake I made, or just general fear of growing up.  These issues weren’t unique to me; we’ve all faced them.  I remember having nights where I would get upset about any one of these things, and while I would start out being annoyed or having some regret, things would escalate to the point where I would be inconsolable.  I kept on searching for why these events were affecting me so much and so strongly.  I’d talk to my friends, my family, and everyone, and it was no help.  As I struggled, I just figured that everyone else could handle things where I could not.  That I was weak.

Most days, it's a non-issue.  Some days it's a nuisance.  And on a few days, it is completely crippling.  People sometimes find time to be “alone with their thoughts.”  I live in constant fear of those times; they are inevitable.  Given time, I know my brain will eventually work its way to one of these cycles, so I have to keep it occupied by thinking about something…anything.  It’s exhausting.

These things come and go for me.  I can go long periods where I have no signs of getting caught up in my own mental web.  But there are times when I can do nothing to escape thoughts that made me anxious and depressed. It has happened throughout my life, and so I’ve developed ways to try and avoid letting the process begin, even if it was to my detriment.  In college, I began intentionally depriving myself of sleep, staying up to ridiculously late hours then waking very early because passing out from exhaustion was better than lying awake in bed and allowing my mind to spiral out of control.  Throughout my career, I’ve often tried to seek refuge in my work, bringing my thoughts back to my computer code or research anytime my mind began to drift off from where I knew it was safe.  Sometimes it would serve as a shield for me, but mostly it just delayed things or my work itself became the focus of my obsessions.  I still try these avoidance methods today, though they are proving less and less effective; I see myself experiencing more burnout and exhaustion, things that themselves are serving as triggers for my cycles.

A few years ago, I was having a particularly bad episode.  I’ve had them like that before, but this time I was really struggling to cope.  I was going in to the office, but was unable to focus or get anything done and wound up pacing around my office trying to break free of the negative images and memories that were holding me hostage.  Giving up on work, I began reading articles online of ways to deal with unwanted thoughts.  That’s when I read about “Pure O,” a branch of OCD where a person develops anxiety due to a recurring thought and the unending mental cycle that the person gets into when trying to solve, avoid, or forget it.  I read testimonials of other people’s experiences, the types of thoughts that spiraled out of control for them, and the lengths that they went to in order to avoid getting trapped.  All the stories that doctors and patients told were so familiar to me…they were the same experiences that I had.  This was a real thing.  It was a medically recognized disorder.  There were others out there like me.  I was not alone.

I’ve spoken with a doctor and have been formally diagnosed.  I am not cured; I never will be.  I will be battling this forever.  I am not on medication.  Maybe someday I will be.  For now, I have mental exercises that I do when I feel myself ruminating and heading down the path where my thoughts get away from me.   Sometimes they work.  Sometimes they don’t. But I’m dealing.  And I’m going to continue to deal.  

Why am I saying all this?  Many reasons.  I want to show others—I want to show my daughter—that we all have personal challenges and facing them makes us better people.  I want others to know that they should not be fearful of admitting to having their own demons or ashamed of a having any sort of disorder.  I have OCD.   I’m not defined by it, and it does not control me.  It may serve as an obstacle on occasion, but it will not be an obstacle to me living.   It is not going to stop me from being the scientist, father, husband, or person that I want to be.    

It is ok to seek help.  I did.  Even if it doesn’t “fix” everything, it’s good to know you are not alone.  And it’s good to know that you are not weak.

Hello

2017…and I’m starting a blog now?  Why?

Well, there’s a lot going on.  Personally.  Professionally.  In this country.  In the world.  I constantly feel like I’m reacting to situations, being bombarded with news and reactions on tv, over email, the web, Twitter, Facebook, etc. etc.  It’s hard to digest.  At times it’s overwhelming and I don’t know what to make of it.  I feel like I’m constantly reacting to things, never taking time to process it all.

So I’m starting this “blog” because I need to reach out. I need to spend some time on self-reflection. I need to vent.  Mostly, I need an outlet and a way to sort through my thoughts.  That is what I want to do here.

Don’t get me wrong…it’s not all bad.  On all levels, there are things that I’m grateful for, excited for, and outright giddy about.  But caught up in the rapid pace by which things are moving, I worry that I’m not fully able to sit and enjoy these things or to fully appreciate them.  That, too, is what I want to do here.

I used quotes around blog above, because I want to be upfront about what this is and to temper any expectations.  In fact, this is not my first attempt at starting a blog.  I’ve started many in the past, only to give up after a few entries.  While I might start these with the best of intentions, my ambition and effort would dwindle.  I found myself writing about things just to write, rather than because I had a reason to do so.  And it made for less exciting writing, and even less exciting reading.

So in a way, I am writing this all for me.  I know that sounds selfish; I don’t mean it to be.  But I’m going to write when I am so motivated, whether to work through a personal issue, share some excitement, or to try to make sense of what’s going on around me (or in my head).  I hope a side benefit is that one other person may find what I say interesting, informative, or helpful in some way.  

And if nothing else, I look forward to looking back on this all in 20 years or more with my family, using these ramblings as reminders of my attempt to make sense of the world of which I was a part.