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Caffeine Freedom: Day 30

photo by Kalyan Chakravarthy

As promised, I’m writing about being caffeine free for 30 days.  I can definitely say that things have changed.  Day 1 was like a finish line, or so I thought.  I assumed that the greatest challenge would be getting through those first 2 weeks when I weaned myself down gradually.  And in terms of energy levels, those 2 weeks were the most difficult.

The first week of caffeine freedom was mostly uneventful.  I remember sleeping very deeply and soundly, which was expected.  All the extra sleep was supposed to let my adrenals heal and balance my stress hormones.

The second week was a little different.  I had insomnia which made absolutely no sense to me at all.  Also by this point, my productivity had fallen off a little.  A friend of my emailed me saying, “Well.....one post after the caffeine freedom day.  I guess we know now where the energy for the blog came from...”

The third week brought new challenges.  I believe that most of the physical adaptations had taken place by this point.  What had not adapted, and still hasn’t completely, is the mental/emotional component.  I think the brain has to relearn how to function in the absence of stimulants.  During week three I found myself apathetic and mumbling, “what’s the point?” all the time. 

The fourth week has been much better in terms of sleep, energy, and mindset.  I don’t think I’m out of the woods just yet, but I’m starting to get to the point where I don’t see myself going back to coffee again.  I couldn’t say the same in week 3. 

A really good friend of mine told me a story about his trouble with caffeine and nicotine.  He had a very severe incident with his heart that his doctors called a “perfect storm.”  He had a stressful job, had been out late, with little sleep, and had pounded caffeine and nicotine all day before his heart rate went up to 188bpm. 

This wakeup call was all he needed to drop both coffee and tobacco cold turkey.  This was almost 4 years ago now.  It was really comforting to talk with someone who had come out the other side.  During week 3, I told my friend that I missed the spark that coffee provided.  Even now, imagining that little lift gives me a nostalgic, warm feeling inside.  It makes me happy for a split second.  Then I remember that I quit. 

My friend said, “that’s the addiction talking, plain and simple.”  He went on to say that it took a long time, longer than 30 days to get through all the weirdness of quitting.  These words were unexpected but exactly what I needed to hear.  The thing that I anticipated about quitting coffee was the physical addiction and the initial trouble with mental focus and acuity.  What I didn’t see coming was the mind games, mostly subconscious ones, that I would play.  It's strange when you can't trust your own thoughts.

Recently I heard someone on the radio describing the effects of poor adrenal health.  The obvious ones about energy and sleep were mentioned.  But what stuck out was the effect of weak adrenals on the mind.  Apparently apathy is an emotion well associated with adrenal fatigue.  During week three, I was rationalizing the feeling by saying it was my PDSD(post dissertation stress disorder).  Now I’m wondering how much of it’s still just physiological.

Now days, it feels like there’s more time left in the day.  In fact, I find myself getting bored more easily.  That’s usually when the addiction starts talking again.  This “new normal” is something to get used to.  On paper, having more time, sustained energy levels, and less stress and anxiety sounds great.  But I’m finding that I’m looking at so many things differently now.  It’s really hard to articulate.  I think my crutch for the last several years has been either school or recently my dissertation.  Caffeine seemed like an indispensable part of the process.  Now both are removed, and I frankly feel like a fish out of water. 

With both school and caffeine, I’ve thought repeatedly about how much I wanted them out of my life.  Sometimes it’s easier to focus on the negative than to figure out what you're really going to do with yourself.  It goes back to the famous Shawshank Redemption quote; “Get busy living or get busy dying.” 

So, I plan to chime back in on Day 60 unless something expected happens.  It will be interesting to see if there are any more physiological changes by then, or if it’s all mental adaptations.

 

Ps  I failed to mention my musical experiences being caffeine free.  I would say practice has been a little lackluster in terms of getting excited by the creative progress.  Performance however seems to be just fine.  I haven’t had trouble getting into “5^th gear” like I feared I would.

Original Music: Waiting, Watching, Wishing

I wrote this ballad back in the summer of 2008.  Of all my compositions, this was the most difficult to name.  There was definitely a romantic quality to the song, and I also had some sort of outer space, scifi imagery in mind.  But no title along those lines seemed to stick.  So, instead I'm letting irony rule the day.  During the last 4 years, I've spent much of my time waiting for another day or wishing I was doing something else.  I also was waiting for a good title for this tune.  Here it is.  Hope you enjoy.  Please play and share freely, but contact me for permission to record or use commercially.

 

Waiting, Watching, Wishing

 

Diploma in Hand- The DMA is Finished!

The other day, I received a package with the "do not fold" label.  I was getting my hopes up for what I knew should be coming any day now.  Sure enough, my diploma is finally in hand.  This means-I think- that it's really over now.  It's been such a long, drawn-out process that it's really hard to believe I'm truly finished.

In my post What It's Like Defending Your Dissertation, I quoted T.S. Eliot writing it ended "not with a bang but a whimper."  I can say that this last formality of the degree process was even less eventful.  The PTB(powers that be) told me that I should expect to receive the diploma within 9 weeks after May 13th, which is to say, "you'll get it when we're good and ready!"  

 I was having recurring nightmares about not being totally finished with my degree.  In my dreams there was always one more class, defense date, recital, etc. that needed completing.  One of the first thoughts I had when I looked at my diploma was that maybe the dreams will stop.  That was a few days ago, and I've had several dreams since.  However, they are now shifting into more of "what now?" types of dreams.  The last one involved me being both a student and a teacher.  It doesn't sound that scary I know, but the freaky part was I was shirtless the whole time.  Maybe the point isthat  I feel like I lost my proverbial shirt during this whole degree process.

The other thought I had was that the diploma wasn't as big as I expected it to be.  It's no more than 12"x8".  And the degree title looks fairly generic.  There's no mention of my instrument, jazz performance, or my musicology cognate.  On top of that, there was no confetti, no balloons, and certainly no parade.

I'm at a strange place in life.  For the first time in adulthood, I don't have a clear picture of what the next few years will be like.  I'm both excited and intimidated by the blank canvas.  The truth is, I don't do well in institutional life, which is exactly what school is.  But I can't say I've lived any other way. 

As much as I know I should move on to the next phase, there's a strong desire to make sense of these last 5 years.   I've asked myself over and over if it was worth it.  All I know for certain is that the degree cost me much more than I ever expected it to.  When I entered the program in 2007, I had it in mind to finish in two years, which is theoretically possible but unheard of.  When I completed my course work in 2009, I told myself I had a year to finish the dissertation and that 3 years isn't so bad. 

Since then, I moved back to Tennessee, purchased a home, planted a garden, raised my two-year-old daughter, and worked playing and teaching music all the while.  3 years have turned into 5. 

At some point the late nights and early mornings in front of the computer screen became difficult to justify by some sort of reward waiting for me at the finish line.  Instead it became a personal vendetta against an inanimate object, my dissertation. 

Now, I question the wisdom of such single mindedness.  For an interesting discussion, check out this forum thread entitled Post-Dissertation Identity Crisis.  I resonated with someone's advice for what to do after finishing the doctorate; spend the next year watching reruns of Giligan's Island and eat as much ice cream as you can afford. 

At this point I can't know if it was worth it, because I don't know what's ahead of me.  Today, I'm just thankful to be finished.