Glossary of Terms

ASD - Autistic Spectrum Disorder: pretty self explanatory really (includes Aspergers).

SI - Special Interest: a subject that an Aspie finds almost obsessively fascinating.

NT - Neuro-Typical: someone who is not on the Autistic Spectrum.

OCD - Obsessive Compulsive Disorder: a mental health problem characterised by repetitive or obsessive behaviour in response to particular events or situations.
Showing posts with label David Eagleman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label David Eagleman. Show all posts

Sunday, 10 June 2012

The Vulnerability of I.

The human brain is an enigma, wrapped in mystery and carefully concealed in a massive stack full of brain-like objects. You may have heard of the many school shootings that occur in the world. You may think that it is just some sicko acting out his (or less likely her) disturbed fantasies, fantasies moulded by a violent upbringing. You'd assume that they were born like that. After all, they say that personality is fixed in human beings by the time that we are 22. You'd never do anything like that, how could you? The acts are repugnant and without justification. You are over 22 and you think that you will never really change.
 Well, I am afraid that I have some bad news. You're mind is the product of countless and highly complex so-called 'zombie' programs that you cannot consciously alter, each one responsible for a multitude of different operations. Your emotions, the way that you are feeling right now, is the result of chemical changes within your body and brain. Even small changes to the contained cosmos that is your body can throw the equilibrium that is you at this very point in time. Brain tumours may sound like they are just lumps in the brain and you'd be forgiven for thinking that they cannot change an individual completely. Forgiven , but still wrong.
The following is an extract from David Eagleman's book Incognito that both brilliantly and disturbingly illustrates just how fragile everything that you think you are is. It is a truly concerning read:

"On the steamy first day of August 1966, Charles Whitman took an elevator to the top floor of the University of Texas Tower in Austin. The twenty-five-year-old climbed three flights of stairs to the observation deck, lugging with him a trunk full of guns and ammunition. At the top he killed a receptionist with the butt of his rifle. He then shot at two families of tourists coming up the stairwell before  beginning to fire indiscriminately from the deck at people below. The first woman he shot was pregnant. As others ran to help her, he shot them as well. He shot pedestrians in the street and the ambulance drivers that came to rescue them.
                The night before Whitman had sat at his typewriter and composed a suicide note:
I do not really understand myself these days. I am supposed to be an average reasonable and
intelligent young man. However, lately (I cannot recall when it started) I have been a victim of
many unusual and irrational thoughts.
As news of the shooting spread, all Austin police officers were ordered to the campus. After several hours, three officers and a quickly deputised citizen worked their way up the stairs and managed to kill Whitman on the deck. Not including Whitman, thirteen people were killed and thirty-three wounded.
                The story of Whitman’s rampage dominated National headlines the next day. And when police went to investigate his home for clues, the story became even more grim: in the early hours of the morning before the shooting, he had murdered his mother and stabbed his wife to death in her sleep. After these first killings, he had returned to his suicide note, now writing by hand.
                It was after much thought that I decided to Kill my wife, Kathy, tonight… I love her dearly, and
                she has been a fine wife to me as any man could ever hope to have. I cannot rationally pinpoint
                any specific reason for doing this….
Along with the shock of the murders lay another, more hidden surprise: the juxtaposition of his aberrant actions and his un-remarkable personal life. Whitman was a former Eagle Scout and marine, worked as a teller in a bank, and volunteered as a scout-master for Austin Scout Troop 5. As a child he’d scored 138 on the Stanford Binet IQ test, placing him in the top 0.1 percentile. So after he launched his bloody, indiscriminate shooting from the University of Texas Tower, everyone wanted answers.
                For that matter, so did Whitman. He requested in his suicide note that an autopsy be performed to determine if something had changed in his brain – because he suspected it had. A few months before the shooting, Whitman had written in his diary:
                I talked to my doctor once for about two hours and tried to convey to him my fears that I felt overcome
by overwhelming violent impulses. After one session I never saw the doctor again, and since then I have
been fighting my mental turmoil alone, and seemingly to no avail.
Whitman’s body was taken to the morgue, his skull was put under the bone saw, and the medical examiner lifted the brain from its vault. He discovered that Whitman’s brain harboured a tumour about the diameter of a nickel. This tumour, called a glioblastoma, had blossomed from beneath a structure called the thalamus, impinged on the hypothalamus, and compressed a third region, called the amygdala. The amygdala is involved in emotional regulation, especially as regards fear and aggression. By the late 1800s, researchers had discovered that damage to the amygdala caused emotional and social disturbances. In the 1930s, biologists Heinrich Klüver and Paul Bucy demonstrated that damage to the amygdala in monkeys led to a constellation of symptoms including lack of fear, blunting of emotion, and overreaction. Female monkeys with amygdala damage showed inappropriate maternal behaviour, often neglecting or physically abusing their infants. In normal humans, activity in the amygdala increases when people are shown threatening faces, are put in frightening situations, or experience social phobias.
                Whitman’s intuition about himself – that something in his brain was changing his behaviour – was spot-on.
                I imagine it appears that I brutally killed both of my loved ones. I was only trying to do a quick
                thorough job…. If my life insurance policy is valid please pay off my debts…. Donate the rest
anonymously to a mental health foundation. Maybe research can prevent further tragedies
of this type.
Others had noticed the changes as well. Elaine Fuess, a close friend of Whitman’s, observed, “Even when he looked perfectly normal, he gave you the feeling of trying to control something in himself.” Presumably, that, “something” was his collection of angry, aggressive zombie programs. His cooler, rational parties were battling his reactive, violent parties, but damage from the tumour tipped the vote so it was no longer a fair fight.
 David Eagleman, Incognito: The Secret Lives of the Brain (London, 2011), pp. 151-3.
Copyright © David M. Eagleman, 2011. 

I feel that since I have posted an extract of his work, I should provide a link for people to buy it if they are as fascinated by it as I was: Buy Incognito on Amazon.com


Saturday, 28 May 2011

Internal Conflict and the Aspie Mind



Sometimes I feel like I have several different people living in my head. No, I don’t have split personality disorder or Schizophrenia. They don’t speak to me or tell me to do stuff, well, at least not directly. Everybody experiences this, not just me and not just Aspies. It is an important part of the human consciousness and is vital to our perception of free will. Imagine that you are presented with a cake. Looks delicious doesn’t it. It even has your favourite filling; cooked to perfection. You can smell its sweet aroma wafting into your nostrils, exciting your taste buds, making you salivate. But wait, it looks incredibly fattening and unhealthy! What about your cholesterol levels. Could you eat it all without feeling sick? You can probably imagine these thoughts racing through your mind. Do you eat the cake or do you resist the temptation. If you do chose to eat it, then how much do you think that you can eat without feeling too bad about it? Could you maybe go for a run tomorrow to make up for it? It’s a tough decision.
This is internal conflict. Your non-physical being (i.e. your mind) consists almost entirely of constant internal conflict. We don’t even realise that these battles are going on as for the most part they take place in our sub-conscious. Every time you decide to do something, your mind experiences a miniature battle between the do and don’t do factions. Even doing something as insignificant as lifting your finger can cause internal conflict. Studies by Benjamin Libet and Sirigu et. al, have revealed increased brain activity in people at least a second before they became aware that they were going to move. Most of the time we are not even aware that it is happening.
However, it is more disruptive to our lives when consciously experienced, as can be demonstrated by the cake example. I often wonder if Aspies experience it more than NT’s. I am often aware of conflict between the ‘normal’ biological part of me and the physical manifestation of my Aspergers (I’d say that I’m about 30% ‘normal, 70% Aspie, if that makes any sense). I have already described two situations where this is apparent. I experience love, but rationally speaking, pursuing a relationship would irresponsible due to my inability to handle change very well. My special interest in Japan conflicted with my dislike and fear of travel. I love certain bands, but going to see them play live involves a great deal of trouble, so I can only do it in special circumstances. The ancient Greeks had an excellent way of describing the human mind. They said that the mind is a chariot pulled by two horses: passion and rationality. Quite often they want different things and when they do, they pull in two different directions. You can imagine what happens to the chariot. As I have said above, I believe that my being an Aspie means that my rational horse is stronger that my passion horse. Logic usually wins in my internal conflicts, but that is not to say that they are always one-sided. As in the case of my SI in Japan, these fights can cause a great deal of destruction before one side wins. It seems that a great deal of the emotional and physical turmoil that I feel as an Aspie comes from such internal conflict and maybe it’s the same for other Aspies. All I know is that it is natural and I just have to grit my teeth and bear it. Everything comes with a price.    
P.S. If you are interested in the relationship between free will and the sub-conscious, then I would thoroughly recommend ‘Incognito: The Secret Lives of the Brain’, by David Eagleman.