The Psychology of a Data Sheet

         I opened my Psychology book to page 483 today to embark on my "Psychological Disorders" reading. After learning learning about Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder, Depression, Schizophrenia, and a host of other disorders, I began to think back to One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. The institutionalized patients suffered from a variety of psychological disorders. Then, I realized that I, concernedly, display the symptoms of a few of these disorders as well, the night before one of our "Infamous Data Sheets" must be turned in. It all starts around 3:30 pm...
       3:32 p.m: I have been sitting at the computer since 3:30. A whole two minutes. Enough time for me to type "Literary Techniques." The fact that I am only typing "Literary Techniques" is a bit concerning to say the least. I get up from my chair and leave the den. The television catches my eye. Suddenly, I go from eating a snack, to running on the treadmill, to doing my Biology homework, to stopping mid- Bio to do Psychology, then abandoning Psychology to return to the computer to check Facebook. While doing so, I am unable to sit down and focus for longer than five minute time spans. Potential Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder?
     9:00 p.m.: Thankfully, I am now well into my Data Sheet. Typically around "Significance of Opening Chapter." At this point in the night, I will myself to stay seated at the computer, NOT leaving Microsoft Word. I just keep adding on those page numbers, every new page scrolling to the beginning of my Data Sheet to be sure I have not messed up the order at all. Every two minutes, I press "Ctrl S" to make sure that I save my coveted Data Sheet. I proceed to find a small, fixable error in my work, such as two examples of a literary technique instead of three. Panic ensues. I frantically flip through the book and my notes to find a third example. Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, anyone?
      1:00 p.m.: (Approximately) I am approaching the printing and turnitin.com stages of the Data Sheet process. I start to think of my day tomorrow at school. Oh wait, it is tomorrow. I realize that I should probably go to bed now. My head  hurts. 'Could it be,' I think to myself, 'That I am getting sick?' I now fear that I am coming down with an illness related to sleep deprivation. I show symptoms of Hypochondria, as I am simply tired. On the other hand, I convince myself that I am going to wake up in the morning, too ill to attend school...and most importantly turn in my Data Sheet!
         After completing two whole Data Sheets, I can handle anything else that comes my way.

An Unaccepting Fan

        In conjunction to One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, we have been discussing the unaccepting nature of society. Through reading such powerful works, we enable ourselves to look beyond our own perceptions of the world around us. I am a huge Cleveland Cavaliers fan. Sometimes my extreme fanaticism does not work in my favor. I tend to display an unprecedented amount of hostility towards those who do not support the Cleveland Cavaliers. After learning about the importance of accepting those different than ourselves through our AP English reading endeavours, I should be able accept the non- believers. On the other hand, I have not yet proved my ability to do so. This realization that I have come to, that I do not possess the ability to remain composed and cordial around the Cavs haters, just surfaced this Winter Break. It all started when Uncle Steve came into town from Pennsylvania. Let me tell you, Uncle Steve is a Boston Celtics fan. Obviously, I have a problem with it. At my grandparents house a few days ago, the intent of the gathering was to enjoy the family togetherness around the holidays. I did not enjoy sitting next to Uncle Steve at dinner, while he rambled on and on about the Celtics WONDERFUL season. A Cavs- Celtics Fight ensued. I dished the Celts, and Uncle Steve dished the Cavs... but mostly I dished the Celtics. Ironically, the next day at tennis, another Cavs argument ensued. Yes, I was in the midst of it once again. My tennis coach, a non-believer, made a disparaging  remark about the Cavaliers. Of course, my Cavs fanatic instincts kicked in, and I walked right over to defend my team.  I argued about the Cavs more than I played tennis that day.  I think I need to take a temporary break from the Cleveland Cavaliers until I can exercise enough self- control to constructively discuss sports with others. I now realize, after our extensive discussions in AP English, that I need to accept those who do not root for the Cavs.  I often look to convert my peers to into crazy Cavs fanatics, like myself. After this epiphany of mine, I promise to respect others for their support of sports teams besides the Cavs.

Societal Flaws

       Upon reading that McMurphy underwent a lobotomy, and eventually strangulation, I felt a bit of sadness and disappointment. Towards the end of Ken Kesey's One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, I envisioned McMurphy storming out the front doors of the institution with Bromden, Harding, Bibbit, and Scanlon in tow. My picture perfect ending would not lend to the meaning of the novel, nor solidify one of the implications I believe Kesey makes. Through the strangulation of McMurphy, a result of the lobotomy, I believe that Kesey reveals the injustices people face when they fight against societal norms. After he rebels against the strict regime of Nurse Ratched, McMurphy winds up in the Disturbed Ward for a lobotomy: MCMURPHY, RANDLE P. POST- OPERATIVE...LOBOTOMY"(321). Kesey creates an element of situational irony, as McMurphy receives a life-altering,and potentially life-ending procedure, for attempting to help the patients gain respect. Though Bromden ultimately causes McMurphy's death, the lobotomy motivates him to put McMurphy out of his misery. Therefore, I believe that Kesey strongly and effectively criticizes the government for approving such procedures, and members of society for advocating and performing them. Interestingly, Kesey's life ends up differently than McMurphy's, though I believe they possess many similarities. Both men looked to curb societal conformity, and did so in a bold manner.  McMurphy attacked Nurse Ratched and broke the rules of the ward, while Kesey and his Merry Pranksters openly used illegal drugs. Kesey ends up serving a couple of years in jail,eventually forced to settle down . McMurphy undergoes a procedure that disables him from functioning properly, and then dies. Both men's lives end at different extremes. These two extremes help to show that there is no winning against the powerful societal norms, whether they are right or wrong, just or unjust. If Kesey did not end the novel with McMurphy's death, he would fail to show the true reality of the brave people who fight the wrath of a disapproving society.

Snowed In: The Side-Effects of Cabin Fever

        I have not left the house for three days now. I am becoming a recluse. My humble abode does not at all resemble an asylum, or the mental institute in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. On the other hand, staying pent up for the past three days has helped me to better understand how the patients could experience a severe change in behavior after remaining in the ward for an extended period of time. We do not carry out lobotomies here at my house, or any other medical procedures for that matter. Nonetheless, I have displayed many uncharacteristic behaviors after hiding from the snow for the past 72 hours.  
    First, I found myself cleaning my very own closet yesterday afternoon. My family refers to it as "Hurricane Katrina," as there are usually clothes strewn every which way. I trudge through a mountain of clothes in the morning when getting ready for school. I never clean my closet. I just wait until my mother can not take it any more, and begrudgingly cleans it herself. But not yesterday. I do not know what possessed me, but I actually cleaned my own closet. I am convinced that this out-of-body experience was a side-effect of cabin fever.
      Next, I started to read a book...leisurely. What? Soon after delving into Jodi Picoult's Plain Truth, I thought to myself, 'Sarah, what are you doing? Reading for fun?' As an AP English 12 student, I shamefully admit to my lack of leisurely reading. By Monday morning, desperation kicked in. The last time I'd stepped out into the open air had been Saturday. My eyes could not watch another minute of MTV. Therefore, I ventured over to the bookshelf and picked out a piece of quality literature. Once again, a rare occurrence.
      The things we resort to when we find ourselves snowed inside the house. I am not at all saying that most people are up in their closets folding and hanging clothes to overcome extreme boredom. Furthermore, I am not at all implying that my temporary indoor captivity at all measures up to that of the patients in the novel. I am just acknowledging the fact that I understand how the Chronics and other severe patients can no longer reenter into society. Not seeing the light of day for a long period of time can cause people to change and adopt new ways of living.       

The image above accurately represents the visibilty level out my window for the past three days.

Kids Menu

     As we read further into One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, I find myself continuously empathizing with the characters. After making that statement, I would like to clarify that I do not currently suffer from any mental and/or emotional disorders. Throughout the course of the novel, all of the patients at the institution are treated like babies, and looked down upon. The way in which Nurse Ratched talks to them greatly resembles the way in which my mother talked to me...before I knew how to walk. I feel as if teenagers, including myself, often encounter such treatment when they venture to various public places such as the mall, or a restaurant.
        Just because 89% of teenagers in America are friends with an individual who they know shoplifts, it does NOT mean I am a shoplifter. At the mall last weekend, a Dillards employee followed me around the entire store, leaving my side when I walked out the department store doors. Yes, I could see this woman staring at me through a rack of jeans.My mother sent me off to the mall as a fully capable 17 year old. Why did this women feel the need to follow me around Dillards? I do not think my black northface jacket and a pair of jeans elicited a suspicious look. Though some of the patients in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest suffer from severe mental/emotional disorders, the Acutes and McMurphy seem perfectly capable of carrying out normal daily functions without blowing up the ward. Yet, they are monitored while brushing their teeth? Like these patients, teenagers, in particular me at Dillards, deal with many unreasonable people and unjust situations.
       Along with being stalked by a Dillards employee for an hour, I experienced a situation similar to the patients in the ward on vacation last summer. The waitress at dinner brought me a kids menu. I was 17 years old at the time, and last time I checked I do not look like a 12 and under. Then, she proceeded to call me "honey" for the duration of the meal, and brought me a drink in a kiddy cup. She also asked me if I wanted a refill, and then checked with my mom to see if it was alright. (sidenote: this woman looked to be in her mid- twenties, just a few years older than I) I was mildly embarassed, and felt a bit degraded after going for dinner at that resturant. Therefore, I can empathize with the patients, as Nurse Ratched treats them like children. She speaks down to them as this waitress did to me. I noticed a drop in my self- esteem after that night.I am sure that Nurse Ratched is not doing the patients any favors by treating them like petulant children. I hope to never experience a similar situation. Likewise, I am sure some of the patients feel disrespected by Nurse Ratched's condescending manner.

Apparently the Dillards employee percieved me as this kind of person...

     

Trust Issues

       In class today, we got all caught up in our trust issues with Chief Bromden and his narration of the novel. Though Ms. Serensky told us to "move on," I can not yet move on. I would like to bring to your attention a particular moment in the text in which we did not pinpoint in class today. After his delusional episode of sorts, Bromden acknowledges the oddness of his experience: "I think about jumping up and running around and waking up McMurphy and Harding...but there wouldn't be any sense in it. If I shook somebody awake he'd say, You crazy idiot, what the hell's eating you?"(88).  Kesey indirectly characterizes Bromden as aware, as he acknowledges the strange reactions he would get if he were to share his experience with others. If Kesey's intent was to create a completely unstable and untrustworthy narrator, he would not insert moments of Bromden's rational thinking into the work. I believe that if Bromden can accurately assess the reactions he will get from the bizarre episode and/or dream he experiences, he proves his ability to sufficiently describe the happenings around him as a narrator.
       As I am writing this entry, I am suddenly reminded of an unfortunate event that occurred in the Ross Garage a few weeks ago. I crashed my mother's car, taking off two car doors. Since this incident, my parents do not trust me behind the wheel (with reason of course, as I have hit the mailbox three times, attempted to back out when the garage door was closed, and hit the refrigerator in the garage, sending the refrigerator into the house and subsequently denting the garage wall). Along with the driving , my parents question my ability to carry out various other tasks, unrelated to driving, since the accident. For example, my ability to clear my plate from the dinner table. I am told to "Carry your dish with both hands," or "Don't drop it." Therefore, I recognize that an event such as Bromden's exotic dream/delusion may cause us to question him and his stability as the narrator. Bromden's episode seemed quite strange, as did the fact that I managed to take off two car doors after "tapping" the garage. On the other hand, this does not make me incapable of completing simple tasks, and Bromden of credible narration.


...I won't be crashing into the garage again anytime soon.

Another Definition of Insanity

Though our mid-week discussion of insanity is well over, I would like to present another definition of insanity. No, it is not from dictionary.com, the dictionary, or any other reliable source.

In-san-i-ty
[in- san-i-tee]
-noun, plural 

1. The Cavs- Heat Game Thursday night

         As I sat at the game, watching the Cavs slowly sink into a 40 point deficit, I also watched the craziest of fans emerge from the crowd and make themselves known. Many incidents took place at The Q that night, and I am not referring to the horrible game of every single Cavs player. I may lobby for a March 29th field trip to the Cavs- Heat game, as it could help us to better understand true insanity before our AP Exam in May. I would like to detail some of the events that took place, some literally right in front of my eyes, that led me to believe, 'this is insanity at its best.'
   
       With about 9:00 left in the third quarter, a man comes charging up from the floor boxes to section 100, my section. He points a finger at the man two seats down from me, signaling for him to come over. This man looked slightly deranged, with his eyes popping out of his head. 'Great, just feet away from  me a deranged man stands, trying to start a fight,' I thought. Yes, a fight did ensue. I crouched under my seat to seek safety. Eventually, security rushed the scene and broke up the fight.
   
       About ten minutes after coming out from under my seat, a burst of noise came from the neighboring section. I looked over, only to spot a man punching a security guard in the face. 'Great,' I thought. This fight lasted five whole minutes, as security guards attempted to tame the unruly fans. 'Time to go now...this is insane,' I thought.

       No, the insanity did not end after the two fights I witnessed. And who knows, more fights probably ensued on the other end of the arena. Suddenly, commotion starts behind me. I fear to twist my head around, but I do. Yes indeed, there is a man standing on the ledge of the upper level section above my own waving around a Miami Heat jersey. Fans throw beer cups, shoes, and game towels at him. All of which landed a few rows behind me. 'Time to get out of here,' I thought. Needless to say, we left after that spectacle.

    If that is not insanity, I do not know what is. Maybe I should not lobby for a field trip after divulging the preceding personal accounts. Though I feared my safety many times during the game, I am glad that I attended. Along with booing LeBron, I found another real world connection to English class. I will most likely watch the next game in the comfort of my own home.