This post's title is, once again, from Carl Sagan. I feel it aptly fits the topic I want to delve into here. I have written before on how I often avoid things and procrastinate because I feel anxious and panicky. But now I think there is more to it than simply procrastinating. In therapy, we have also talked about this topic. In my previous post, I spoke about how my childhood environment affected me, and one of the outcomes was self-doubt, which resulted primarily from a lack or shortage of affection and validation. This doubt is the root of my anxiety and fear and avoidance. It is a logical result of this childhood environment.
I have most certainly been living with a generalised anxiety disorder. I wake up every day in an instant panic and with a bad feeling. Even small things fill me with uncomfortable anxiety and panic, even though I do not show it on the outside. This has always been the case, as far as I remember, but I also think it is true that it is worse now given the various pressures I am under (and which I keep delaying and avoiding). Avoiding these issues provides me with a definite sense of relief, however temporary it may be. I feel utterly stuck and often so hopeless that I can escape. How did I get to this point? I suppose asking this is like asking where the arrow came from (as I explained in my previous post).
Nevertheless, I feel rooted in place. My therapist explained that anything motivated by fear is doomed and that by responding to this fear, I am, in fact, practising it. The anxiety can be thought of as background noise, always there, but my therapist also argued that all the doubts I have only serve to keep me in these doldrums since we learn the answers only by doing. Everyone starts as an amateur. But even knowing this, I remain stuck.
Nevertheless, I feel rooted in place. My therapist explained that anything motivated by fear is doomed and that by responding to this fear, I am, in fact, practising it. The anxiety can be thought of as background noise, always there, but my therapist also argued that all the doubts I have only serve to keep me in these doldrums since we learn the answers only by doing. Everyone starts as an amateur. But even knowing this, I remain stuck.
I constantly feel as if the world is moving to a different clock than me. I mean this in both a literal and metaphorical sense. In the literal sense, I believe I suffer from Non-24-Hour Sleep-Wake Disorder (Non-24), which is defined as "a disorder that affects the normal 24-hour synchronization of circadian rhythms". What this means is that my own biological sleep cycle is not tied to the environment. This can be further explained as:
People with Non-24 have circadian rhythms that are not synchronized with the 24-hour day-night cycle, either through a failure of light to reach the SCN, as in total blindness, or due to various other reasons in sighted people. People have internal body clocks that are slightly longer than 24-hours. Daily environmental cues, such as light, resets people's circadian period back to the 24-hour day-night cycle. For example, if someone was on a 24.5 hour clock, they would sleep 30 minutes later on the first day, then one hour later on the second day, and so on. For someone with a longer circadian delay (i.e., on a 25-hour clock rather than 24.5-hour clock) sleep disturbance and departure from the 24-hour light-dark cycle surfaces much quicker. Consequently, sleeping at night becomes more difficult and the drive to sleep during the day increases. Eventually, the person’s sleep-wake cycle realigns with the 24-hour light-dark cycle and they are able to enjoy the conventional sleep period once again. However, this period of good sleep is only temporary as the sleep cycle continues to shift later.
I think I have always had this condition. I remember in high school, frequently being up until 3 am and sleeping in the afternoons. At university, the situation remained one of me being a night owl (this is genetically determined, and my mother was also a night owl), but by the time of my Master's degree I had completely started spinning my sleep-wake cycle around. This was also the case in Australia and remains the case now. While I was working 9-5 at UWC, I had tremendous difficulty. Some nights I drank 14 sleeping pills just to force myself to sleep. I remember being so tired at my desk. I had to stab myself with my nails just to avoid falling asleep. It was hell. Only later did I learn there is a name to this condition. While I was in Australia, I remember one of the students I tutored came to me one day because she was dropping out of the course. After we spoke for a while, I discovered she too had great difficulty sleeping at night, and when she learned she was not alone, she started crying. She had spent her life thinking she was a 'freak' or alone.
So what is the practical implication? For me, it means that my sleep cycle keeps advancing a little every day. I go to sleep (and can go to sleep) only when I am tired otherwise I just lie awake. Then I wake up when my doby wakes me up naturally. Getting up earlier leaves me groggy, and I experience great difficulty concentrating and I feel miserable all day (and get very little if anything done). The next night I go to sleep a little later again, and so the cycle continues until I am awake all night and sleep during the day, and it continues on until I once again sleep during 'normal' hours. As the quote above shows, my internal body clock is longer than 24 hours, but unlike most people, I cannot force myself to remain linked to the 24-hour cycle. WebMD states the following:
But if you have Non-24-hour sleep-wake disorder (Non-24), you may find yourself gradually going to bed later every night and waking up later each day. Eventually, your sleep schedule goes all the way around the clock. For example, you might fall asleep at 11 p.m. one night and then can't get to sleep until 1 a.m. the next night. The delay gets worse until you're going to sleep at 2 a.m., 4 a.m., and later each night. Non-24 is a circadian rhythm disorder and occurs because our internal clock is not synched with light and dark cycles of the day and night. Most individuals with this disorder are totally blind. That's because your internal clock gets its cue from seeing light. But sometimes people who have normal vision also get it. There's no cure, but treatments, including hormones, medicine, and light therapy, can help get you closer to a normal sleeping pattern.
As such, there is no cure. My boss is aware I am often awake during the night and working on things, so as a practical consideration because I work from home, this has no impact on me, unlike in an office setting with fixed hours. It does mean I would have tremendous difficulty in such an environment, however. I do believe this was part of the reason why I left my job at UWC. Yes, there was non-stop drama and various quite abusive practices, but being so exhausted frequently meant I could cope even less. For someone with Non-24, there are times when our natural body clock lines up with the environment, and during those times we feel much better. But soon it starts moving again, and we feel like ordinary people do when they are suddenly working a night shift. In short, terrible.
While it is possible to adapt to the 'normal' cycle for a short amount of time, for instance, a day or two, as I did during my recent lecture or when I was sick (then I slept all day due to my fever), I inevitably just pick up where I left off before. During the week I was sick, my sleep schedule was completely mixed up, but as soon as I felt better everything returned as it was before. At that particular point, I was going to bed around 4am. Currently, I go to sleep around 9 or 10 am and wake up at 6 or 7 pm. On top of this, unlike my mother, who could cope with a few hours of sleep, I need about 9 hours to feel healthy and normal.
On my phone, I have an app that is used for tracking migraines (Migraine Buddy), but it also tracks when your phone is inactive (when you sleep). This gives an excellent indication of how my cycle works. It doesn't track my whole cycle because it cannot recognise when I go to sleep after 8am in the morning. But here is an example showing the clear pattern of Non-24:
While there were exceptions, like the 10th of March, there is a clear pattern visible. My clock shifts by about half an hour every day (taking about two months to return to where it started). Once it passed 8am the app no longer tracked it, but this nevertheless provides a clear illustration. I did discuss it with my doctor once, and I have a prescription for melatonin, but it does not provide a permanent fix. I have at times delayed my cycle shift a little once it matched the 'normal' pattern, but soon it breaks free again, and even the melatonin cannot get me to sleep. One possibility I still need to try is blue light therapy: "Phototherapy: You are exposed to bright light early in the morning from a light box. Late in the day, you wear special goggles to avoid light". Exposure to blue lights as soon as I wake up may help to 'reset' my clock, but as the WebMD article said, there is no cure. Still, I want to get one of these soon, Ayo Blue Light glasses:
These were designed as "A new glasses-style product helps with seasonal affective disorder, insomnia and time change adjustments". Still, as WebMD states, "Keep in mind that Non-24 is considered a disability under the Americans with Disabilities Act. Schools and employers must make reasonable accommodations for you, such as part-time or altered schedules". I will likely continue to have this condition as a result, although as long as I can successfully manage it and remain in a flexible situation it can be okay.
However, to return to my earlier point, I think this makes my anxiety and panic about getting things done worse. For one it makes it nearly impossible to stick to a shedule, and I am already finding it impossible to be consistent in any way. It also feeds into other issues like being such a hermit. For example, currently I need to do my shopping in the evening (Checkers stays open until 9pm thankfully), but soon my cycle will shift too late, meaning there will be a period when it is very difficult to get out since I'm too tired in the morning to go driving around and being out. In a while, my cycle will shift to the point where I can do things in the morning again, however. Tomorrow I have a therapy session at 11:30am, so I am always calculating in my mind how much sleep I can get. I doubt I would be able to sleep before about 5am today, so if I can get 4 hours, it will be ok. Then I can sleep again when I come back. I can also use the opportunity to go do some other shopping I've put off for weeks.
So this was the literal part. Figuratively I feel the world is moving on a different clock just because there is always such a rush to do things. I remember when I changed from Maths higher grade to standard grade in Standard 9 (Grade 11) I went to a counsellor, who noted I do good work but just slower than can be expected ("By die laasgenoemde toets [Senior Aanglegtoets] het André relatief stadig gewerk in die sin dat hy net ongeveer die helfte van die aantal probleme binne die tydsbeperking voltooi het en dit het aan hom 'n hooggemiddelde punt besorg soos hier gerapporteer is. Hy is egter toegelaat om die toets te voltooi en as tyd dan buite rekening gelaat word, verdien sy prestasie 'n telling van 9 op 'n 9-puntskaal, wat baie goed is. Hieruit kan afgelei word dat hy wel akkurate antwoorde verstrek het in dié toets, maar dat hy stadiger gewerk het as wat op hierdie stadium verwag word"). I don't really approve of this wording because we do not all fit some standardised model as if we come from an assembly line. I'm not a Ford Model T. This was one of the reasons I wanted to join Mensa, to know that I am not stupid, and as it turns out my IQ is in the top 2% (I was also a member of Mensa Australia). However, I feel this theme has been a constant one in my life. Even now, I struggle to complete my play, for example. I have a book I need to finish by the end of the year that I have struggled to progress with for 9 months. I have two book chapters that need to be done urgently, but I haven't started with one yet, and the other is in the early phase. I haven't worked on my PhD in years - yes since starting my space work. Somehow I still managed to finish a book, two further book chapters, various journal papers, and seven more book chapters (published last week) since early last year.
My therapist pointed out that there is no better proof than history. Despite my feelings of self-doubt and imposter syndrome (very common in academic contexts), my achievements are there to be seen. But how can I celebrate when I am so anxious and worried about other things that are overdue and late. Yet I can't move forward because I am suffering from a feeling of absolute paralysis for the past several months. I don't know how to break free. So I continue to drift here in the doldrums, panicking when my phone goes off in case it is my boss asking for progress. This week I will probably have a skype session with my PhD supervisor as well. I don't know what to say for this year's progress report, which the university requires annually. I have nothing to show. I still have two years left, and I can make it in that time, but not with this paralysis. There's already a book lined up for the first few months of next year (plus undoubtedly more chapters for other book series, which my boss kind of expects I will contribute to). My only solution is to take a semester off from my studies. Then at least the clock will stand still. I hope I can find my way.
I think my biggest goal now is not to become dissuaded or despondent (even though I am already a little). I must put into practice the advice of my therapist and be kinder with myself. I am a human being, and for being human, I am perfect in my imperfection, and I am valuable and valued. For a while I started listening to my own pre-recorded affirmations. Then I stopped. As my therapist said, the reprogramming process is not easy, the truth can seem to be a lie and irrational. I need consistent, persuasive, neverending reminders and practice to overcome my learned helplessness and self-limiting beliefs. Even now I catastrophise, I see disaster, I will be caught out as a fraud, I will be fired, I will be kicked out from my PhD programme. One spark of hope was that I at least have started to recognise this catastrophising. I mentioned to my boss that I might be kicked out from my PhD programme (mind you nobody has ever said or indicated this), but then I caught myself and said that I tend to catastrophise. That was an insightful moment. I also partake in all-or-nothing or black-and-white thinking. Because I am struggling now, I am a total failure. I will never escape. I am doomed. There is no point. But I see this, at the very least. I don't think there will ever be a quick fix for all these challenges I face. I think, to quote Winston Churchill (whose speeches got me through my Master's thesis):
We have before us an ordeal of the most grievous kind. We have before us many long months of toil and struggle.
[O]ur people, our Empire and indeed the whole English-speaking world are passing through a dark and deadly valley.
Here again, I have to be careful not to let these words or Churchill's quotes feed my catastrophising. I remember how I saw my MA thesis as a war, an endless protracted and bloody battle. This is not healthy. Yet, I think these words illustrate well my struggle, and the reality of the difficult challenges I face. There are times I feel surrounded on all sides. Cut off in the back by a difficult past and childhood, hemmed-in on the sides by my doubts and self-isolation, confronted from the front by deadlines and expectations, bombed from above by panic and anxiety, all while standing on the shaky and unstable ground of an ever-shifting sleep cycle. No wonder I am paralysed. As my therapist argued one day, if you think in your mind of being attacked by a lion, then you will feel anxious because your body and mind respond in logical ways to this perceived threat. The impulse is to run away. I feel this often. I remember when I worked at UWC, I would think every day on the way to work how I could just drive away and disappear. Is it any wonder I have felt depressed this year (although I think I am also naturally inclined to be prone to depression since my father and his sister [and their father] both have/are going through depression, and both are, like me, prone to panic and anxiety). Is my paralysis thus nothing but burnout - a natural result of all these pressures? Since I HAVE accomplished things in the past, I know I am capable of continuing, but yet I am stuck with flat tyres. I haven't even properly cleaned my living space in months. While I can take anti-anxiety medication like Urbanol to help, this is not a permanent answer.
My therapist posed the question - since everything driven by fear is doomed, what is the opposite that can drive and motivate me? At first, I thought about 'passion' as my answer. But passion (like in a marriage) cannot remain at the same high intensity forever, and is anyway not an opposite to fear (but rather indifference), what could be the answer? One such answer could be curiosity. The age-old adage of 'curiosity killed the cat' shows that curiosity can overcome fear. I am indeed curious about many things. That drove me to begin my PhD, and to write papers and chapters and a book. But just now I feel so hampered in that even curiosity does not work.
On top of everything else, my friend and colleague of five years, with whom I was writing these journal papers, and a book chapter - and who helped to motivate me and give me a reason to push forward - was savagely murdered barely a month ago. I continue to feel the pain of this. Hope remains. Perhaps this is how I will make it though my "dark and deadly valley" - not passion, not curiosity, but hope. Hope can overcome fear. I must continue my therapy sessions, and I must continue to reflect on them here and finish my play, and I must continue my affirmations and 'reprogramming'. I must not give up. When I feel like that (giving up), I become depressed, which is even worse. As Arundhati Roy said, powerfully, "Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing".
My friend's own words are lampposts guiding me along my way:
"Small steps are also progress"
"goed om te hoor Andre..jy sal die ding wen man...ek bid vir dit..."
Herein I think lies my answer. Whenever I think of spending hours on something I become overwhelmed with anxiety and panic. But the truth is, even small steps are progress. There is a book called "Writing Your Dissertation in Fifteen Minutes a Day" that embodies this well. It says: "Do some work on your thesis every day, even if it's only for fifteen minutes ('every day' is more important than how much time you spend, or how many pages you produce, or what quality of work you produce on any particular day)". Here too we see consistency at the core of the message. Taking only small little steps are, I think, not just my best - but my only - way of moving forward and escaping the doldrums. This might also make me feel a bit better since I will be making some progress. The Pomodoro Technique might help in this regard, since it involves "a timer to break down work into intervals, traditionally 25 minutes in length, separated by short breaks". My main goal is to take the 'sting' or stress out of things, to avoid my paralysis. Maybe this is the best way, and not giving up hope.
"Small steps are also progress"
