Blog #2

Last spring, I had been spiraling into a dark pit of anxiousness. I was becoming more and more unmotivated, but was too afraid of asking anyone for help. I finally hit a breaking point, went to Boynton, and was diagnosed with anxiety.

Growing up, I was always taught to be self-sufficient from the get-go. If I ever ran into trouble, it was constantly reinforced that I needed to solve my own problems and that no one else could do it for me. My dad is a pretty good role model and overall, a pretty level-headed guy. My mother, on the other hand, I’m pretty sure has been dealing with anxiety her whole life and is too stubborn to admit it. She, however, grew up in a time where mental health was not really discussed or even acknowledged. They just prescribed housewives, like my grandmother, antidepressants etc. if they complained of feeling overwhelmed and that was that. It was never brought up after that. Consequently, my mother has had to develop her own methods for coping, most of which are very unhealthy and definitely counterproductive. I used to wonder about how someone could be at a greater risk for developing anxiety, depression, and anything between, but I think there is definitely validity to that point. I think we become more inclined towards these behaviors we observe, especially if they are not properly faced. I think both Pinker and Lewontin both have their cases made in this example. We may never really figure out whether one is more correct than the other, so for now, a combination of the two will suffice for me. The trickiness of the brain is something that both fascinates me and makes me want to look the other way.

This disparity in mental health education between me and my parents also fascinates me because they’ve both spent their fair shares studying both human and animal neuroscience in college and then in veterinary school. Science has always been highly valued at my house, and dinner table  conversations are never complete without talk of veterinary medicine of some kind, whether it be the routine check-ups to the herds of cattle they both work with, or the fascinating medical mystery they bring to the table, working to solve over some homemade quiche and garlic bread. For such medically minded parents, it still fascinates me just how hardwired their brains are to think in terms of black and white, and to have such a hard time wrapping their brains around the invisible illnesses that affect so many today—including my mother.