Rising Above

I’m kind of at a crossroads. Should I just get a random job and focus on storm chasing? Or should I focus on contributing something to science? It seems like a recurring theme, especially in the last three years, has been wanting to go to grad school to study neuroscience or pharmacology. I keep coming to this conclusion and then getting distracted by something. Whether it’s a relationship, vacation or new obsession. It always comes back to this though. I was at this point three years ago.. but I was absorbed with Zeus and partying and then went on a trip to Mexico and then more partying and then I was off work and still more partying and then I thought I wanted to get into videography, then I booked my storm chasing trip, then I got another IT job, broke up with Zeus, decided I wanted to contribute to science and go to grad school, started upgrading some science courses, got distracted with Zeus and partying again and moving back home. Then I actually went storm chasing. Got off drugs, became obsessed with storm chasing and spent a whole year preparing for that trip as if it was my sole purpose in life. Then I broke my ankle, decided to get into post production, quit drinking, and then quit school. And now I feel like I’m back to where I was two years ago. I'm left wondering if the past two years was just a huge distraction. I guess it was more of a necessary detour. I've improved so much in the last two years. I guess it truly is a winding road.

In some ways I feel like I’ve known all along what I’ve wanted to do.. but something always distracted or discouraged me. Especially with a complicated multi-step goal like grad school, it’s super hard to follow through. And it was impossible when I was constantly drinking and partying and in dire need of therapy and guidance. I can clearly see my ADHD patterns now.

Eventually, I have to pick something and stick with it. Because picking nothing is still a choice. I don’t know exactly what I want to do.. but I feel like, before I die, I want to contribute something to science. I want my name on a peer reviewed study. I want to die knowing that I contributed something to the scientific community. I don’t care about making babies or getting married. None of that shit matters. Science is the only thing moving humanity forward. I feel like I can offer more to the world than merely just adding more people to it. I’d rather immortalize my name than my genes. My brother already had two kids. My genes will be passed down in some form or another. But at the end of the day, that doesn't even matter. Passing on genes is just a biological instinct that can be overcome, like the urge to rape people or wanting to take a shit on the floor. 

I love storm chasing. However, I can't derive a deeper purpose as far as making the world a better place with it (or an income). I've realized that storm chasing and nature/weather photography is something I do for myself to feel at peace and feel connected. It's a true hobby. In some ways, it's almost a "spiritual" thing where I need to do it to feel balanced, alive, and present. I also enjoy the sense of community with other chasers and the adventure.  

Storm chasing is what I'm taking in from the world. Devoting myself to science is a way for me to give back.

Every Snowflake Melts

I never had any responsibilities as a kid. I wasn’t forced to eat vegetables or made to do chores or follow any rules. I didn’t play any sports or take any lessons in anything. No extracurricular activities. I just went to school and during my spare time I watched a lot of TV, played with toys alone or occasionally played outside with other kids. My mom used to clean my room for me. Up until age 12 or so, she picked out my clothes for me every morning so I didn’t have think about it. If I wanted something, then my parents (usually my dad) just bought it for me. They would get into fights because my dad just gave in to every demand for toys or junk food and my mom would attempt to instill some limits. My dad had no patience for my tantrums. One time I wanted a soft drink and my mom said no but my dad said yes and they got into this huge fight. I remember when we got home, still being in the car, the window open a crack and my mom saying, “Fine, you just take the kid then.” And then I lived with my dad and grandma for a few months. I didn’t see my mom at all during that time. I remember missing her.

“God is in the TV” – Marilyn Manson

I remember being around 5 or so and watching my grandma do the dishes and wanting to help her and she didn’t let me. I wanted to help cook too. I remember wanting to contribute and feel useful. I think that's a natural human urge, to feel like you matter and that you are competent. I think it helps with feeling of validity. I was just there. I was fed and looked after like a pet, but I wasn’t “raised” in any real sense. Eventually I just got used to watching other people do things but not being an active participant. I never acquired any skills or had any hobbies. I just watched TV or was off in my own world. I watched so much TV that it wasn’t until I was around 10 that I realized that TV was inspired by life and not the other way around. I thought the purpose of life was to mimic what happens on television. 

I didn’t like school. Besides being constantly picked on, any sort of responsibility or “work” became a negative thing in my mind. I’m not sure if this is an only-child related syndrome, but I came to believe that I was somehow special and that the world revolved around me. It didn’t help that my dad indulged my every want and need while also filling my head with delusions of winning the lottery. We would routinely drive through this super affluent neighborhood in Toronto (The Bridal Path) and talk about which house we would buy. When you’re 10 years old, you don’t know anything about the slim chances of actually winning. I also didn’t know that my dad was constantly on drugs and had a gambling problem. I thought we were special. I thought I was special. We were going to win. We talked about having a swimming pool in every room and what colours we’d paint the walls. I may have stopped believing in Santa Clause by age 7 and never believed in the Tooth Fairy, but I had my share of childhood delusions.

I never felt productive or useful as a child so I never developed a sense of self-efficacy. When I took child development courses while studying psychology, it really drove home the fact that I missed out on a lot of key components of what made up a healthy childhood. Self-efficacy was the biggest one. As far as childhoods go, I wasn't abused, I wasn't starved and I had a roof over my head. If anything, I was just very emotionally neglected. I had no discipline or structure. Among the four parenting styles, my parents were definitely the Lax/Permissive style.

“You are not special. You're not a beautiful and unique snowflake. You're the same decaying organic matter as everything else. We're all part of the same compost heap. We're are the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world.” -Fight Club