Anhedonia

Anhedonia is a psychological term meaning the absence (relative or absolute) of enjoyment of one’s life. It’s a sign of depression, a sign that one’s mood is below zero.

I have been suffering from anhedonia these past few weeks. Since the end of summer, I have had the summer doldrums. I have not been enjoying writing, and have not written for weeks, not even this blog. I did not feel my usual anticipation for the beginning of classes. Things I normally look forward to were things to get through.

Normally, I greet even little things in life as pleasurable. Dinner? A minor celebration. Writing? A flow activity. A doctor’s appointment? Something to be curious about (honestly). The past few weeks have been “Oh, yeah, I have classes to get through, and then I have the weekend to get through.”

I made an appointment with my psychiatrist, because I have a history of depression. (As I have bipolar disorder, this is perhaps putting it lightly.) The irony is, as soon as I made the appointment, I have started enjoying life again. I am looking forward to my trip to Kansas City this weekend. I am anticipating my 63rd birthday. I haven’t felt down about my classes. What gives?

I am working on publishing a book or two — Kringle Once More in October; Avatar of the Maker in January. My cover author (my niece Rachel) finished the cover for Avatar today. And I am working on the publication pieces and enjoying it. Maybe my anhedonia is over. What am I going to talk to my shrink about?

A Piece of Turquoise

What’s the best thing you’ve ever found randomly on the street?

I am attracted to random pebbles. Not a rock hound; I usually don’t know what I am looking at. It’s just a pretty stone, and I don’t even know whether it will look shiny after being tumbled in a rock tumbler or if it will just crumble.

Then there was the day I found a chunk of turquoise.

When I found it on the sidewalk in with a bunch of other, less descript gravel, I thought it was discarded gum until I looked at it more closely. It was a blue-green. I poked it gingerly with a pencil, and it did not engulf the point of the pencil as it would have if it were gum. Not bubble gum, then. I picked it up and noted the black veins running through it, and realized that it was an unpolished piece of turquoise.

I have no idea why it was lying on the sidewalk. Perhaps someone had found it in a pile of pretty stones at a tourist trap and bought it for their pocket. It certainly wasn’t from a piece of jewelry given its unpolished state.

It was mine now.

But not for long. I don’t know where it ended up, but I lost it soon after receiving it. Perhaps it was like the One Ring, with a will of its own, looking for a new master. I don’t know, but I hope it’s happy with its new owner.

Long Time

I haven’t written in a while. I have lost track of how long it’s been since I wrote last. I haven’t felt like writing lately, especially as it’s the beginning of the semester and I’m getting used to the swing of the year.

My writer’s block is phenomenally bad right now. I have two books I could be writing on, yet I don’t feel inspired about writing. On the other hand, I am looking to publish two novels this fall/winter — Kringle Once More will appear on Amazon Kindle October 1st (just in time for the extended Christmas season) and Avatar of the Maker will follow that on January 1, 2027. The former book is ready and waiting for the magic date, and the latter is waiting for its cover to be made for me to set it up on Amazon.

I don’t know how I feel about my writing at this time. I am, as I said, suffering from writers’ block. I am also suffering from a low-level confidence crisis. Should I even be writing? What can I contribute to a world where anyone can publish a book? Does the world need my novel? (As NaNoWriMo used to declare).

I need writing to be fun again. I need to feel something for my characters again. And I don’t know where to find that.

I’m back

I’ve been AWOL for the past couple of weeks. I’ve been helping my husband deal with the aftermath of his surgery, and he’s doing excellently. He’s back to driving, and going back to work part-time next Wednesday.

Meanwhile, I’m going back to work next Wednesday, too. I have meetings, followed by the first day of classes. I’m about as ready as I’m going to be, which is not much. But I’m getting my hearing aids today, so at least I’ll be able to hear.

I haven’t been writing. I haven’t felt like writing. I don’t know what it is, other than my book is not grabbing me the way it should. None of my ideas are grabbing me. I think it’s a low-creativity moment.

What would it take to get me to write?

A Cat, of Course

If you had to be an animal for a week, which one would you be and why?

If I had to be one animal for a week, I would choose a cat. I have three of them, so I have been taking notes on their lives, and they have it pretty good.

My cats are privileged. They live in a house, are well-fed, and get petted a lot. Chloe, in particular, is my personal barnacle, being attached to me any time I am in the living room. Chuckie prefers Richard, and Pumpkin Spice Latte prefers whoever isn’t busy with Chloe and Chuckie.

I would like to trade places with one of my cats, probably Chloe. Or maybe one of the kittens that frolic in the yard in the next block. They look like they have a lot of fun.

iPhones Forever

What’s a piece of technology you’re convinced will exist in 20 years?

I expect the iPhone will exist, in one form or another, in twenty years.

Mobile phones are part of the culture, to the point where people are moving away from land lines. People’s cell phones are their only phones, and with all the extra features of the iPhone, they have become personal computers in mini form.

IPhones are lifestyle aids. I use my phone for email, checking up on classes, surfing the Internet, playing solitaire, tracking my food intake and exercise, texting, and composing occasional blog entries. I do not use it as a phone much because of my hearing problem, but my hearing aids will connect to it and I will control them from the phone.

I don’t see much changing with the iPhone over 20 years. I could see it becoming a satellite phone, I could see more features set into it, but the form factor will stay largely the same and the functions will stay similar.

My Experiences vs. Myself

Do you think we’re shaped more by our experiences or by who we are?

When I first encountered this question, I unequivocally thought, “My experiences, of course!” I have had vivid, quirky experiences that have made me who I am today. Everything from playing with lion cubs to floating through a swift water simulation to being a (really tall) Santa’s elf for the school district and more!

But then I thought about the question again and realized, “I chose all those experiences. I took the trip to the Exotic Feline Rescue Center. I decided to experience the Swift Water course. I am that experiential person.”

I’m uncomfortable with believing in nature over nurture, which is the philosophical essence of this question. I am perturbed to think that I was born to choose vivid experiences. I don’t like to give that much power to an accident of birth. Yet I was born with bipolar genes — did they orient me to choose novel experiences?

Psychology tends to favor a model incorporating both nature and nurture. In the case of my personality, it’s covered in “traits and states” theory. About half of our personality is based on traits, or inborn tendencies (nature), while the other half is based on states, or the moods we are in (influenced by nurture). The specific personality trait is “tendency towards trying new things”, which is one of the five basic personality traits in the OCEAN model.

So the science says both, no matter what I think. I just prefer to credit my experiences.

Cassette Tapes

Which outdated technology do you miss the most, and why?

I miss cassette tapes.

The concept of recording songs off the radio is a lost phenomenon. Radio is almost a lost phenomenon at this point. All is now Spotify and Apple Music, and there’s no spontaneously hearing a song and recording it. Instead, I buy music off of Apple Music if I want it permanently or borrow it as long as I never leave Apple Music.

Mix tapes are not really a thing anymore. I can make a mix tape on Apple Music, but I can’t easily share it. I can share the playlist with someone, but they have to go and buy the music. I can’t share with someone who isn’t on Apple Music. I don’t know if Spotify is any different.

There was a certain democratization of music back in the days of cassette tapes. The quality of the music was poor when we recorded off the radio, but we didn’t really notice because of our lower expectations with AM radio.

I’m not one for nostalgia, and I know there are great advantages with services like Apple Music and Spotify, especially the sound quality. But I miss the old-fashioned mix tape and the heartfelt communication it represents.

Lifelong Learner

Are you a lifelong learner?

I am a lifelong learner. I have to be to do my job. Being a professor means having a body of knowledge and updating it so we can be experts.

Not me.

In addition, I am a voracious reader of articles. Some of what I read is really lowbrow, like those emotional heartbreak stories with a missing ending on Facebook. Others are informative stories about current events. And I will read anything medical I can get my hands on, and that’s how I know the cyclospora epidemic started with Taylor Farms’ bagged iceberg lettuce.

I want to learn calculus, the one class I nearly failed in college. I want to learn molecular biology, because I think it’s amazing that complex life came from one-celled organisms and my cells reflect that. I’d like to learn carpentry because I think my mother wanted me to marry a carpenter (didn’t happen, even though I’ve known a lot of people who did carpentry).

I don’t understand people who don’t want to learn. Curiosity is an innate human trait in most people, and I think we need to ignore our better nature if we decide not to learn.

A Matter of Heart

My husband will be getting a multiple bypass a week from tomorrow.

The development of this situation happened very quickly, or took years, depending on how you look at it. The heart blockages developed over several years, exacerbated by family history. How we found out about it has been a whirlwind of tests and doctor’s appointments,

Richard is young for this — he’s only 57. But that family history made it inescapable, I think. Despite the statins he has taken religiously for years, he has some arterial blockage, and open heart surgery is the best option.

I am dealing with this rather stoically. I think the medication I’m on helps me stay on an even keel. I’m a lot more helpful to him in a stoical mood than I would be with my mother’s way of dealing with medical emergencies — she would browbeat someone for being sick. (Honestly, you would think my broken leg was something I’d deliberately done to myself.) The day of, however, I will be covering up panic.

So I’m taking thoughts and prayers that all goes well. There will be pain (my husband admits he’s a wimp about pain — we’ll see) and recovery time (from what I hear, the cracked breastbone will require more recovery time than the heart) and I will be the responsible person for a while.