Complex Emotions

This year has been interesting to say the least - by moving away from four years of location stability, and to find myself in a rural regional centre, finally having more hands-on experience in medicine has evoked a lot of complex emotions in myself. The other day in my mental health rotation, a patient with an intellectual disability was said to get agitated at a few life stressors but was unable to fully understand "complex emotions".


This intrigued me because it has always been the view that emotions have thought to be quite primitive. The underlying neuroanatomical basis that in the centre, or bottom of our brain is the brainstem - the centre of breathing, eating, sleeping, and other essential survival commands. Surrounding that, further up is the limbic brain, or where our emotions lie - where fear and our desire for social acceptance predominate and the reason why are such social creatures. Then the newest part of our brain evolution-wise is the neocortex where our higher centres of logical planning and thoughts come from.

So when one says a concept of "complex emotions" - it seems counter-intuitive to the above model of three distinct brain zones. Nonetheless, its blatantly obvious that while there are centres of brain function, the entire brain is so interconnected like a poorly mapped highway system that its likely emotion is probably far more complex than we think. As I reflect on my own experiences and observations of those around me, I recall the volatility of adolescence, and the simplicity and ignorance of childhood. I realise that indeed my own motions have probably matured and evolved as more and more of those brain highways branch and interconnect.

For my favourite emotion I would say is not mere pure euphoria, but one that has a tinge of nostalgia: as simple as "bittersweet" but exemplified by a constant motif in my writing. It is the end of a summer's day - the golden tinge of a sunset glowing on a backdrop of a busy beach day, as you settle into a sizzling barbecue and prepare for the night's drunken-party; this all with your favourite friends. There is both sadness that the day is over, but electricity in the air in anticipation of the night.

As I observe this patient, whose life has been disabled by so much adversity and lately this intellectual impairment, I can only feel pity as he cheerfully struggles to recall the volunteer work that makes him feel happy - but lacking in the depth I wish he could have. And with this pity, I am appreciative for one moment in my life before it is swept away by the busy cynicism of daily living.

Having more awareness of my false dichotomous thinking so bye.