Sunday, November 18, 2012

Ambi-Dexter-ous

This has been a mixed year, mostly crappy and I found myself for the past few weeks in the cold, dark grips of depression. Again.

People like me are prone to depression. I was born in the spring, which statistically means I would be 17% more likely to have negative thoughts.

I am also highly intelligent, with IQ tests putting me way above monkeys and gibbons. Smarter people tend to get more depressed, easily, because we understand and see everything.

Furthermore, since I already have Omega-level genius, I have been working on my EQ for the past nine years. I am so empathic that I can read minds. The problem is, I also understand the pain and suffering of others, and that leads to me detecting that I am surrounded by animals.

Animals, to me, are humans who want to be miserable. They are pain-worshippers and use it as a currency of sorts.

This is why I love Thailand. Despite the fact that the hookers have to suck dick to get food, they don't suck. They generally have a more cheerful outlook on life. Whenever I go to Thailand, I always restore my faith in humanity.

Depression is not something you can snap out of. I should know. I've been depressed since I was 17. It's also not a cry for attention or some other annoying shit. It's scientific and clinically proven.

Whenever I'm depressed, I have no energy. I would always feel depleted, and I would start getting migraines. My blood pressure would go up and my sleep would usually be without dreams, which compounds the problem.

The brain produces serotonin. Actually, the brain and the stomach produces different types of serotonin. Serotonin is like midi-chlorians, but for happiness instead of the Force. It is a clear indication of your happiness.

Talking about chemicals, the brain tells you you are happy if you get lots of dopamine or dopamine-like things that fit into the dopamine receptors on the neurons. Most drugs provide this function, and when some people are depressed, their body secretes this dopamine-blocker that prevents any dopamine from cheering you up.

Since I am on a two-year diet, I don't even get pleasure from stuffing my face with comfort food suck as fast-food fried chicken or durian.

I wish I could tell you that I have depression beat, or there is a miracle drug that can fix it. There are some, but the chemical imbalance and dependence would eventually result in even worse and even more dangerous situations. Xanax or Prozac withdrawals have been known to be the cause of some suicides.

I also wish that I could prescribe a religion for depression, but most religions are depressing.

What has worked for me is meditation. I meditate and I accept the chaos I am in, the kind of shit people throw my way. Thailand works for me. I go to Thailand and I take a step back and see the world and realise what's important (my self, my work) and what's not important (humans and other apes).

Sometimes, though, I do feel murderous. I feel like murder, and a red haze is on everything. I just want to kill, maim and wound. I do plan scenarios inside my head, and it can get pretty creative. Which is an outlet, I must say.

I dunno.

I wake up every day, and being the smartest man on earth, I deal with it every day. The anger, the frustration. I guess I am a high-level functioning sociopath and women should suck my dick.