While Smallsteps and her mother have been cruising the seas and watching a gig last night, I was at home with a sick Puusti. For some reason, a couple days ago he started drooling a crazy amount, couldn't sleep well, so we took him to the vet. Apparently, he has a stomach problem and now has to be on various medications and a special diet for a couple months to control it. Brilliant. At least today though, he hasn't been drooling much.
Sick animals are worse to deal with than sick humans, because they can't speak and say what is wrong. Plus, they are more robust and tend to put up with pain in a different way than humans, which makes them seem more comfortable than they are. I assume, that when they show pain, it is a pretty high level on the 1-10 rating system.
Since it is just me at home, I have been spending the time with him in my lap or snuggled against my leg so he can sleep. For a short while, I had a bit of a nap with him too, which was welcome considering the last few nights have been averaging about four hours. He seems to be doing better and has been sitting quietly watching out the window at the passing cars and since it is raining, is showing no desire to go for a walk. I will have to take him anyway, though I suspect I must carry him for a little.
The girls won't arrive back until late tonight and I will pick them up from the train station, so I have the evening to myself, with very little to do. I will head to the gym and perhaps do some cleaning and laundry, which is pretty sad for a Friday night. I remember "back in the day" that Friday was nearly always filled with social activity of some sort, whether out with friends or out dancing, but it hasn't been that for many years. Next Friday, I have booked a dinner with a friend who used to be one of the people I'd commonly spend the weekend with, so that should be nice.
Having a chill day here and there isn't too bad though, and I suspect a lot of people welcome them. For me though, I have far too many of them for my liking and would rather be more active, but that "rather" is in my head and I am not motivated to actually do it. This is a challenge I have mentioned before, because after the stroke, I am not motivated to really do anything.
The motivation mechanism in me is broken, which in itself is an interesting thing to note, because the dead bit of brain is in my cerebellum, which other than the brain stem itself, is the oldest part of our brains and is responsible for core functions. It is a small section but contains 50-80% of the total brain neurons, so it weights the impact when losing a chunk of it in a stroke. For a long time it has been known as key to motor skills, but there has been more studies that are linking it to cognitive roles, like mood regulation and attention. At least, I am pretty sure I am clear evidence of the linkage.
Saying "I am unmotivated" is hard for people to understand, even psychologists. They will link it to depression or just laziness, but I believe that a large part of it is actually mechanical. We seem to forget that the brain is a physical structure and has more complexity than we understand. Plus, a lot of people think that if you lose a bit, another bit will replace it just fine. That does happen, but it is never one for one, and it isn't for all functions. In "me head" at least, I believe that the cerebellum is so core to us, that losing any of it is going to be quite devastating.
I lost a chank about 1 centimetre in diameter and 2.5 centimetres long.
This part of the brain kept us alive and functioning for hundreds of millions of years before the prefrontal cortex started to develop. But because we do a lot of analytical thinking at the front of our brain, it is like we have discounted what the rest of it is doing. We take it for granted and think that something like motivation is a choice, because those who haven't had that choice taken away, can choose not to be motivated. I guess it is a bit like saying "walking is a choice" without thinking about not having legs. Walking isn't a choice for the legless - the choice has been made for them.
I think we minimise a lot of the automatic functions that go on in the background outside of our awareness. we have a sense of them, but we think we have more control than we do and when things are working well for us, we assume that it is because other people aren't controlling themselves well enough. In many cases, this is actually true, but it is not always true. There are a lot of things that we have no control over, even if some people do have control over those same processes, at least from an aware level. A lot of our automatic responses are driven by our surroundings, which means that in order to have the feeling, we need to have the right conditions. And in the wrong conditions, it might be impossible to feel certain things for many people. And for those who have broken mechanisms, it might not matter what environment is present, the feeling doesn't come.
Is motivation a feeling?
Perhaps the "feeling" part of it is the aware response to the mechanical process, which means that if the mechanical process doesn't fire, the feeling doesn't arise. I might not feel motivated, because a mechanical switch isn't clicking on, whereas other might feel motivated, but still do nothing. For me, I just kind of make a list of the things I think I need to do, and do them the best I can, which means forcing myself through a lot of it due to the lack of motivation. On a scale of 1-10, it doesn't matter how I feel, as things need to be done anyway.
It comes down to duty, not desire.
Unlike Puusti, at least I can talk about it.
Taraz
[ Gen1: Hive ]
Be part of the Hive discussion.
- Comment on the topics of the article, and add your perspectives and experiences.
- Read and discuss with others who comment and build your personal network
- Engage well with me and others and put in effort
And you may be rewarded.