Tag Archives: psychology

Media and Me

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As was often the case during my stay at Neuro ICU, I’d be kept awake by anguished thoughts of the recent past or anxious thoughts of the present and future. As an escape, I’d delve into memories from the distant past; the earliest experiences I could recall from my childhood in a small suburban home in mid-70s Concord, California. More often than not, these memories would have some connection with mass media, from singing along with my brother to early rock music from our parent’s record collection to listening to soft rock on AM radio with my mom in the kitchen as she cooked or cleaned. Sometimes she’d play heartfelt renditions of her favorite songs on the piano with the help of sheet music or songbook collections. 

Even before I could read I was fascinated by comics, Mad Magazine, and images in storybooks, but my favorite media, despite relatively limited offerings at the time, was television. Like many kids of our generation, my brother and I were encouraged to watch public television programs like Sesame Street, 321 Contact, and The Electric Company. We also gravitated towards re-runs such as The Twilight Zone, Time Tunnel, Star Trek, Batman, Lost in Space, and Spider-Man as well as more ‘contemporary’ shows like Space: 1999, Battlestar Galactica, Buck Rogers, In Search Of…, Quark, The Muppet Show, Star Blazers, and various Saturday morning cartoons. On special occasions we’d catch Rankin/Bass and Peanuts holiday specials and rare (for that time) airings of feature films such as Planet of the Apes, Godzilla, and their numerous sequels.

The first feature film I can recall seeing in a theater was Star Wars (1977), which reinforced my interest in all things sci-fi and also spawned a craving for Star Wars tie-ins from toys, lunch boxes and trading cards to comics, children’s books and soundtrack album. Earlier that year my parents let my brother and I stay up late with them to watch the network premier of 2001: a Space Odyssey, which was an equally formative experience. Both films inspired an appreciation for the medium which would expand through the 80s and beyond. The success of Star Wars led to a wave of genre films, many of which I was fortunate enough to have seen in theaters including Lord of the Rings (1978), Superman (1978), The Black Hole (1979), Flash Gordon (1980), and Clash of the Titans (1981).

My childhood experiences were fortunately not entirely mediated, but media was definitely a large influence on my developing interests and worldview. It may also have been a causal factor or symptom of ADHD, which I had no idea I had until college.

Grief and Gratitude

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As much as I wanted to engage in magical thinking I knew it was a healthier choice to come to terms with my new life, as painful as it might be. In an attempt to provide some sense of acceptance and closure, I visualized places and activities that in all likelihood I would never go back to again. Examples included local mountain trails, snowshoe hikes, and kayak trips, paddle boarding above sea turtles in Hawaii, swimming with sea lions, exploring a cloud forest in Nicaragua, touring caves and castles in Slovenia, walks along beaches and sand dunes, etc. After a rapidfire flashback of countless memories, I gave thanks for having had the chance to experience them, then bid them farewell.

Most of those fond memories were with Danielle and many wouldn’t have happened without her careful planning. Because she’s a social worker and I was a mail courier, we never had an abundance of non-discretionary funds. Thanks to her research and strategic use of our resources, we shared many experiences that would normally be beyond our price range.

Though I never doubted she would stay with me through the ordeal, I worried about what would become of her. Even with insurance and social security my condition was likely to drain our savings. She would sacrifice not only future vacations but possibly retirement and health savings as well. As my primary caregiver, the physical toll and added stress would inevitably affect her health and quality of life. Realizing that in all likelihood I would be condemning her to a life of drudgery, I experienced a different form of “survivor’s guilt”.

As an alternative, I envisioned a transition from unconsciousness to death on the street at the site of the crash had first responders taken a little longer to arrive. Even though my life would end sooner, it’d be a relatively quick and painless death. Danielle would be grief-stricken for a time but at least she’d have a chance to lead a normal life again. That was how I honestly felt, but since then there have been moments we shared which approached the happiness and normalcy of our lives before my injury. Though such moments aren’t always without pain and stress, the sense of possibility and hope they present make me realize my new life is a blessing as well as a curse.

Some might view my surviving the crash as a miracle, but what I feel is the true miracle is that I was fortunate enough to marry someone who would sacrifice so much and fight tirelessly for my well-being and a future together. Mostly because of her I continue to struggle to regain health and adapt.

Another Long Night

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As Danielle and Florence prepared to go back home for the evening, they made sure a mouth-activated nurse-call button was within reach in case of an emergency. They both gave a farewell hug which, while emotionally comforting, was physically painful not unlike putting pressure on a bruise.

Danielle also set up a small bluetooth speaker connected to my phone. At home I’d occasionally listen to music or a podcast through an earpiece to be able to sleep through the noise of my c-pap machine. Since my mind was still too foggy to follow a podcast I opted for music on a Spotify playlist.

I started creating the playlist around 2022 and envisioned it as a sampling of songs for an imaginary pirate radio station (inspired by early 90s Radio Free Hawaii). It gradually grew to many hours of music and is the same playlist as the one on the Spotify widget on the bottom-left corner of this site. I hoped it’d be a distraction from obsessive thoughts, but it backfired initially.

In my fragile state of mind I felt highly attuned to the emotions of others including the musicians’. Any song performed with a modicum of authenticity (especially involving themes of heartbreak or loss) was enough to trigger a steady flow of tears. This was surprising at first because I normally wouldn’t be so moved by music, but of course my circumstances weren’t normal and I struggled to hold back tears for the sake of my visitors throughout the day.

Another characteristic of some of the triggering songs was their association with specific memories. I was transported to happier times with Danielle such as driving to a campsite, attending concerts, dinner parties with friends, even cooking breakfast at home on a random weekend. These memories led to a different train of thought which was all of the activities I could no longer do and places I could no longer see in person.

At this point I was well aware I was spiraling into depression but gave myself permission to continue. I’ve always had a tendency to suppress my feelings but I felt if I continued that pattern it would make the trauma worse.

The First Day Continued

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When Danielle and Florence first visited me in the Neuro ICU, it felt like the first time I saw them since before the crash. On further reflection I recalled the hazy dream-like hospital room that was actually the Trauma ICU. My memories of it even at that time seemed faded and fragmented whether because of the heavy medication or a side-effect of physical and/or mental trauma.

Regardless, how could I not realize I was quadriplegic through that period which was at least a week? I tried hard to recall what people actually said to me but could only remember portions of my mother explaining how my family scrambled to get to Seattle and my brother Daryl explaining something about a computer.

Part of the missing information could be attributed to impaired hearing, since I noticed sounds coming through my left ear had a slightly distant or muffled quality. But I think the main factor was my fragile mental state compounded by heavy medication causing faulty memory. It could also be that “selective forgetting” was a way to protect myself from uncomfortable information my mind was incapable of accepting.

One example was at some point that day I felt the urge to urinate and thought I’d need to call the nurse for a bedpan. This alarmed my visitors because they witnessed the same scenario at the trauma ICU not long before. They explained for a second time that I had been catheterized shortly after being admitted to Harborview.

Perhaps suspecting there’s other important details I hadn’t retained, Danielle provided a detailed description of my injury. Though I had deduced what what was going on with my body, it didn’t hit home until she described it as the same injury suffered by Christopher Reeve. She then asked if I knew how I was injured and after I gestured “no” she recounted what she knew about the crash from police and first responder reports. Even though I had no prior memory of such details, it didn’t come as a complete surprise since a bike crash was always the most likely explanation. She described surgery scars along my neck and spine that resembled tattoos and puncture wounds on my head from having it bolted down to keep it from moving. I couldn’t feel them at the time but did later on.

Also new to me (though likely recounted before) was the timeline of my stay at Harborview. To me it felt like it could have been anywhere between a few days and a month. In actuality it had been about two weeks. Even more surprising was learning I had flatlined for a few seconds on at least two occasions. Danielle became teary-eyed as if reliving those moments and seemed almost as re-traumatized recounting repeated unsuccessful attempts to get information from my employer’s impenetrable HR department.

Although I retained a partial memory of it, my mother described how she, my father and older brother arrived at the hospital just two days after my crash. My dad and brother had to go back home after about a week but my mom planned to stay for three months. I was appreciative for their visit because my parents had been reluctant to travel by plane since the start of Covid in 2020.

Throughout the day we were frequently interrupted by nurses taking vitals and refilling the IV with saline, liquid food and medications, staff members changing my bed position and cleaning the room, and phlebotomists drawing blood samples. An odd side-effect of my lowered metabolism (or slowed-down state of mind) was that everyone’s movements seemed “sped-up”. The entire day seemed to go by rapidly as well and before long it was evening.

First Post-Crash Day Fully Conscious

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The first group I encountered on my first day of full consciousness post-crash was a team of various medical professionals. A nurse recorded my vital signs while a doctor assessed my cognitive health through a series of questions which I answered by nodding or shaking my head.

A couple of people from the surgical team focused on the extent of my spinal cord injuries, asking if I was able to feel or move various parts of my arms and legs. I was able to feel everywhere, though in a tingly and imprecise way, similar to how one’s arms or legs feel “asleep” from lack of circulation. I could definitely feel a sense of touch, but it seemed to emanate not from the surface of the skin but from a layer beneath. As expected, I couldn’t move anywhere below the shoulders while areas touched on my arms were felt on corresponding areas of phantom limbs above my chest.

Lastly, a specialist investigated my emotional state through another round of questions including if I felt depressed or had suicidal thoughts. This line of questioning seemed absurd at the time for how self-apparent the answers should be. It’s inconceivable that anyone newly quadriplegic would not be depressed. Likewise, any sane person who loses movement of all limbs as well as loss or impairment of numerous internal bodily functions would be lying if they denied having suicidal ideation even fleetingly.

That being said, I nodded in agreement about being depressed but shook my head to signal “no” to the question about suicide. I didn’t want or need suicide counseling and even if I were seriously suicidal, what could I do about it? But my main motive for lying was the possibility that my family would find out. I imagined how they may have experienced trauma from witnessing the trauma I went through, and how much they’d want me to survive. It would hurt them to know they wanted me alive more than I did at the time. There are moments when I still have such thoughts, particularly when my wife and I experience economic setbacks related to my injury, but the emotional impact suicide would have on loved ones is enough to keep the thoughts ephemeral and in the realm of speculation.

As if conjured by thoughts and memories, my wife Danielle and mother Florence arrived soon after, looking just as worried as I expected.

Surrendering to Reality

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When I woke up with the full realization that I was paralyzed, my mind was deluged with questions, speculations, fears and regrets. Judging from the faint light though window blinds, it was still early dawn. I was relieved no one else was in the room because I needed time alone to think.

One of the earliest and most reoccurring thoughts was simply why? I felt the more literal and simplistic answers such as bad luck or bad choices the least satisfying and hardest to accept, and turned my attention towards religion. I wasn’t a deeply religious person before the crash but did hold some hope for the existence of karma. But it’s easier to understand in the abstract how one’s circumstances could be the result of actions in a past life or how current actions affect future incarnations. When one suddenly becomes quadriplegic, such knowledge is of little comfort though it did provide an explanation.

Were I Christian I’d probably want to believe god works in mysterious ways or that my catastrophic injury was part of a master plan. Conversely, I could imagine becoming so disillusioned that I rejected my faith and now characterized god as cruel or indifferent. But if by some miracle I was completely healed, then god would once again be loving and merciful. Recognizing the futility of such magical thinking, I found it comforting nevertheless. I visualized being back home as if my life had never been disrupted. Perhaps that was my reality in an alternate timeline or parallel universe? As much as I wanted to escape into fantasy, I knew I had to focus on the present.

No matter how I felt about my situation, the reality is that it happened and there might not be a satisfying explanation. I could relate to existentialists who, after confronting the incomprehensible nature of existence, sought to create their own meaning. I was also more inclined to believe in the Gnostic concept of a malicious demiurge as creator of a corrupted material world. As hard as it might be to accept, the universe is chaotic and owes us nothing.

From Dream to Nightmare

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Upon waking up at the Neuro ICU, I rested for some time with my eyes closed. I noticed an odd sensation of movement despite not hearing or feeling wind and vibrations which would indicate movement. What I did feel was my arms hugging my chest tightly as if in a straight jacket, though the material felt more like a rubbery mesh than cloth. Meanwhile a nearby machine produced a steady hiss similar to an air pump roughly synchronized with my breathing patterns.

Disturbed by everything I was sensing, I reluctantly opened my eyes to a dark room bathed in a dim green and purple glow from various monitoring devices. As my vision adjusted, I craned my neck and realized my arms were both flat on each side of my torso and I was wearing a standard hospital gown. I also glimpsed various tubes all over my body. An IV in my right arm, some type of nose tube, and a breathing tube connected to a ventilator.

My first instinct was to attempt to go back to sleep, hoping what I was experiencing was sleep paralysis or a false awakening within a nightmare. This proved to be futile, as my mind struggled to reconcile the disconnect with my body. One likely factor was medication, as the initial feeling of movement while awakening was similar to the feeling of heavy drunkenness. As for the illusory straight jacket, the only theory I could come up with was that it was some form of phantom limb syndrome. I struggled to move phantom limbs and “actual” limbs to no avail. At that moment I wasn’t experiencing phantom leg limbs but nevertheless could not move my legs or any part of my body below the shoulders nor could I talk.

With that realization I felt like crying but was perhaps too much in shock to do so. I also may have held out hope that I was still in a bad dream. I was definitely in a nightmare, but not the type one can wake up from, though I did grant myself a brief respite by eventually falling back to sleep.

Thoughts About Mind, Consciousness, & Humanity’s Origin

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Can understanding the nature of Mind, consciousness and the ET phenomenon lead us to an expanded understanding of our origins?

By Tom Bunzel

Source: The Pulse

As a fan of Eckhart Tolle I’ve always liked his description of Consciousness (or ‘Being’ which seems his preference) as “No Thing.”

This separates “Being” from the world of form, and puts it into the area of what Tesla called “nonmaterial reality.”

I’ve generally thought of this reality as (an) Infinite Mind (again as opposed to “God”) to take out the anthropomorphic bias which seems to permeate organized religion. Political Christianity and some other groups seem to relish an angry and vengeful God to keep the parishioners paying. But when you step away from beliefs that are easily debunked you are still left with a fact.

We seem to be thinking.

Of course, it was Descartes who famously equated thought with Being, which has led to all sorts of issues that Eckhart Tolle describes well in his work.  When we identify with only our thoughts, we have narrowed our focus and reduced reality to labels. 

But the reality of thought persists.  What is it?

Is Thought Electricity in the Brain?

Neuroscientists seem to have identified the presence of thoughts in the brain through various instruments that can pick up electrical signals in parts of the brain and between synapses.

But so far, I don’t believe they can “download” these signals and decode them.

When we observe our thoughts, we can see that they seem to be comprised of “words”.  In fact, I’ve had the experience of thinking in languages other than English (my native language is German) and of course, the thoughts come as words – sometimes in cogent sentences or perhaps just one word. 

So, I was musing, what about ancient humans? Did they need to form a sentence in their brains to warn them that a lion might be in the bushes?

If you’ve ever experienced trauma, you know the answer – our limbic system activates, putting us in “fight or flight” well before any thought ever happens. 

I would suggest that a primal, lower frequency of Mind operates in our limbic system, before thought and language.

So, when did we start thinking in “words”?

According to my AI friend,

“scholars believe it [language] originated at least 100,000 years ago during the Middle Stone Age. The development of language is linked to the increased complexity of human culture and cognition.”

Maybe a tribe of hunter-gatherers developed a sound for “lion” and it became a warning cry.  Then perhaps “big” lion or “many lions”.

We know that our ancients memorialized beasts in petroglyphs of various kinds to communicate but the next big breakthrough was when the words, sentences and thus concepts were able to be preserved.

Writing Was the Big Game Changer

AI tells us that

“Writing systems were invented independently by different civilizations thousands of years ago as a means of recording information. The earliest writing emerged around 3,500-3,000 BCE in Mesopotamia and Egypt. Chinese writing developed around 1,200 BCE.”

So now I will do what they do on Ancient Aliens, which is take a speculative leap based on the foregoing.

It intrigues me that the cultures that seemed to “create” writing all have a version of the Prometheus myth – crediting the “Gods” with giving them the gift of higher knowledge.

To connect this to the beginning of writing seems to make sense, as we have precisely these myths in Mesopotamia (Annunaki) and Egypt. 

And it seems clear that with the onset of the written word (and mathematical notations) great leaps in human progress came almost in quantum intervals.  We got the printing press and eventually our modern technology.

We might speculate that it is likely that Mind has been with us forever, but that thought evolved and expanded dramatically with the beginning of writing – and that writing could easily be seen as a gift that transformed human civilization.   

There May Have Been Consequences for Teaching Humanity

It is also very plausible that any entity that conveyed such a gift to humanity may well have angered other entities that wanted to keep humans in check. 

Cuneiform tablets from the Sumerians describe how one “God” Enki created humans in the image of the Annunaki and gave them knowledge – but most of the humans were wiped out by his rival Enil in the great flood.  We now have evidence in the geological record that such a flood happened about 12,000 years ago.

But just this little thought experiment can vastly expand our sense of our place in the cosmos along with providing a much-needed dose of humility.

What if we did not simply “evolve” with natural selection but received assistance in an area we are now beginning to understand – genetics?  This would indicate a profound connection to the cosmos in a way that is disregarded by our current society.

It is also worth noting, as my AI explains,

“There is evidence that around 250,000-300,000 years ago there were some key genetic changes in early humans that contributed to increased brain size and advanced cognitive abilities compared to other primates.” 

Where these came from or how they came about is still a mystery.

And now that it seems apparent that some visitation by “entities” from the sky is not likely fiction but a reality, it may help to broaden our understanding of Nature and how we got here.

My AI friend makes another statement which I think is exactly backwards:

“Some key developments that enabled writing include the evolution of symbolic thought, the invention of systems of counting, and the emergence of urban civilization needing record-keeping.”

Clearly, it was first language, and then writing and math that led to this evolution of our brains, not the other way around.  Our original brains would have needed to expand to accommodate our first language which took us beyond the limbic system to labeling, and ultimately writing which led us to sharing ideas and thinking “symbolically” – using groups of letters as words and then sentences to convey increasingly complex concepts.

My own experience with neuroplasticity confirms that new uses for the brain expand its capacity, creating new pathways and neural networks. People who keep learning seem less susceptible to dementia.

Opening to the possibility that our evolution was “jump started” by extraterrestrials changes the narrative from chance and natural selection to a more profound connection to the universe in areas that our current science has mostly yet to penetrate. (Nonmaterial reality).

A Clue that Space Is Not Empty

But technology in particular seems to point us in the right direction – it was the offspring of the printing press – the computer – which eventually led us to a huge breakthrough in our awareness of the nonmaterial or seeming empty space as being potentially much much more.

When we developed WiFi suddenly the information encoded in words, thoughts and sentences could travel through space. So who knows what other information or Mind stuff has been around us all along?

Because Mind is everywhere and at the heart of Nature.