Neurocircuitry

In our essence, we are neurocircuitry; our thoughts stimulate an emotional circuit which runs a physiological response. But what if our neurocircuitry fails? I saw this firsthand through my brother. I was never quite sure what was going on with him; why did he keep twitching his head that way, or making those sounds? Little did I know, he was suffering from Tourette’s Syndrome, and fought everyday to appear ‘normal’.

Disease affects everyone differently, and for me, my brother’s Tourettes caused me to feel left behind. I craved the attention that my brother was getting. With every little reward he received, I became more jealous. Though my brother’s neurocircuitry was failing, mine was, at the age of seven, attempting to adapt to my brother’s diagnosis and my own conflicting feelings.

In the midst of this, my dad was sent to prison for four years. My neurocircuitry was sent into another spiral as it changed gears again, before it had fully finished processing my role in our previous family dynamic. Now, our lives were dominated by three-hour trips to visit my dad on the weekends, and instead of him being there whenever I needed him, I was waiting for his calls. I started to feel even more lost: a brother who I loved and resented, and now a dad who I wasn’t sure I knew that well anymore.

I found myself even more on the outside, getting even less attention from a mom who was now managing everything, while at the same time I was being asked to take on more responsibilities to help her. Concurrently, my neurocircuitry was adapting socially to deal with new feelings of judgement and insecurity. My emotional circuit began to recognize this new negative situation as familiar and I found that this became my new ‘normal’. I fell into the background of my family life as I sought a distraction from our circumstances.

I dove into school and my community and found diversion by filling up my schedule with a multitude of activities in support of my fellow HS Eagles: student council, competing in equestrian and dance, organizing for both Eagles with Heart and Eagles for Children’s Hospital, leadership roles in NHS, and serving as vice president of my National Charity League chapter. I also started an arts and crafts program at the Boys and Girls Club and volunteered at the Shea Therapeutic Riding Center. I was grateful to not return home until late at night: all my days now concerned with other people’s problems and not my own.

But somewhere along the line, I discovered that what I thought was avoidance was actually healing and helping me. I had learned to rely on myself and pursue my own desires instead of searching for approval from my family. I’d taken matters into my own hands, and along the way discovered that I can create my own happiness; my circumstances do not define me or my bliss. Yet again, my idea of normal shifted; my neurocircuitry adapted to create a sense of personal contentment through self-approval.

I didn’t even know what neurocircuitry was until this time in my life. It was mentioned briefly in a biology class and I was so intrigued that I began to study it on my own. It was like an epiphany: suddenly I saw my life through a new perspective. Neuroscience both offered me an explanation for the confusion and loneliness that I had felt most of my life and filled in gaps in my own understanding.

We are neurocircuitry. As I faced challenges, my brain changed and adapted, and eventually found normalization. It continues to adapt with each new challenge, but it also provides me with a new perspective to look at these situations from a scientific point of view. Understanding the brain helped me understand my life better.