I especially liked that paragraph about reassessing the pleasure vs. pain-avoidance equation. I hadn't been able to put my finger on it, but I think that is one of the ways in which I changed after my bout with clinical depression. Before '90, I was the type who never studied, never gave a hoot about school, and completed assignments (if at all) at the last minute. Since I resumed taking classes a couple of years ago, I am suddenly getting things done way ahead of when they are due and I am enjoying learning.

I find now that I am driven by the pleasure (relief?) I feel in getting the assignment done and adding to my knowledge. I've always liked to increase my knowledge but I usually didn't want to do so if it required much effort to learn. (As a result, I generally know a little bit about a lot of things but not much about any one thing in particular.)

I'm going to try to apply this to other aspects of my life (smoking, diet, exercise). Thanks, Obi...

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"And Wirthling isn't worth the paper he isn't printed on."

I must be one of those people that always sees the good side of things. One of those optometrists.

I didn't mean to say that I never got depressed. I do. But the periods are usually few and far between and don't last long. It's just kind of a blah feeling. I'm kinda grouchy and annoyed at everything and don't really feel like doing much of anything.

Then I'll wake up the next day and it'll be gone.

I've never come even close to any of the things most of you are talking about, so I won't pretend to even begin to know what it feels like. I'm guessing it must suck heartily, though, and my sympathies go out to you.

Another thing I don't feel I have a lot of is stress. I don't know if that has any tangent with the depression thing. When I run into problems, either I have some control over them or I don't. If I do, I do my best to fix them. If I don't, I stop worrying about them.

I noticed quite a few mentions of drugs and alchohol. Do you guys feel that in most cases those just fueled the fire and worsened things? Or did depression come about as a result of that?

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100 pounds of shit in a 25 pound sack.

I once had a 4 hour op on my ear, had it cut off, sucked and cleaned, that kinda sucked. You know how it is, when your not sure if you're going to have a brain tumour or some other fatal disease, and your doctor's a fucking retard and thinks that he'll take your tonsils out first, then wait a year (It was excatly a year to the day) to do it, when it seemed that death may of been a possibility. Oh well, things are better now (touch wood)(sorry Kajun) just thought I would share, as I'm still kind of pissed off with what happened.

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I am not 16 going on not 17, I know that I'm naive.

I basically drink to be social, or, as Hemingway -that incredible hack- so succinctly put it: "To make other people interesting". It tends to exacerbate my mood, whatever it is, tho. I never get mean or angry or goofy because of booze, just much more exhibitive of the mood I'm already in. I do tend to get a bit bombastic and pontifical, though. Sorting out the world's affairs in short order with broad strokes....
I apparently do that sober, too, however.

From what has been described here, I do suffer from some sort of depression, though. A lot of people have told me, upon hearing a few vague descriptions of my childhood, that I was an emotionally abused kid. As near as I can tell; my clothes were always clean, the rent was always paid and I never went hungry, though. If I didn't get a lot of "positive strokes" or "self-esteem building affirmations", I can tell you that there couldn't have been better substitute than a nice salami sandwich and a cold glass of milk.

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I wanted my half in the middle and I wound up on the edge.

Would you just shut the hell up already?! Damn.

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"And Wirthling isn't worth the paper he isn't printed on."

Did I mention that I have a superpower that lets me shoot daisies out of my ass?

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100 pounds of shit in a 25 pound sack.

I thought that was a new bath mat! EWWWW HEWW HEWWWWWW!!

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I wanted my half in the middle and I wound up on the edge.

My problem with learning is that I always sought to do well in school to get the pleasure of other's pride instead of the pleasure in the subject material itself. I was also trying to get good grades to avoid the pain of feeling like a failure. So the pleasure-pain equation for school was two-fold for me: Get pleasure from others pat on the head (largely assumed societal in college) and avoid the pain of regret from perceived failure. If ever a more dysfunctional motivation for learning existed, I'd be surprised. Looking back now, it's no wonder my grades went to hell the semester I stopped believing in god. Not only did that decision remove the societal pat on the head (believing god sees me doing good and is keeping a scorecard, getting pleasure from that), but it also removed the motivation to avoid the pain of failure, because if there is no pat on the head, what then's the difference between failure and success?

It really does apply universally. I've worked it out to the point that it's quantitative, though in simple form. The quantitative side may actually be able to predict human behavior, I believe. The premise for this statement being that: if you know what pain and pleasure values one assigns to an event, and you know what a person's estimate of a said event happening is, then if that person is given 2 choices (or however many) made up of known indivual rated intensities and probabilities, you should be able to predict AHEAD OF TIME which choice they will pick. Pretty scary if true, huh? The reassuring part is that you'd have to give someone personal intensity and probability opinions before they could predict behavior. (Which is probably why advertisers conduct polls.) As a matter of fact, I'm probably going to write up a questionairre in the next couple of weeks that would test the predictive possibility, if anyone would like to be guinea pigs. It will be skewed since you realize what I'm testing for, and also naturally skewed since it's hard for people to quantify their intensity and probability assumptions. (What do YOU think the probability is you'll get kiled in a car accident on the way to the store? You know it's pretty unlikely but you also know it happens to people all the time. So what's your assumed probability? .005%, .00005%? It's tricky.) But even skewed, it would be fun.

You betcha. Here was my thinking process 5 minutes ago:

Choice 1: Submit post about pleasure and pain
Pleasures: Peer patting on the back (I'm an approval whore I've realized. I'm working on overcoming it.), Possibility to help someone, Possibility for insight from discussion
Pain: Possibility that someone will steal my idea, write a book, and get credit for my theory

Choice 2: Don't submit post about pleasure and pain
Pleasures: Relief that my idea is safely mine and I haven't jeopardized the book I want to write.
Pain: Pain of knowing that I could have helped someone and didn't, Pain of falling back into success = happiness trap, Pain of again succumbing to the need for others' approval (as demonstrated by wanting to write a book to gain fame and fortune, rather than to help people. As would be clearly demonstrated by NOT helping people to prevent something damaging the possibility for fame and fortune)

This is a brutally honest look at my pleasure and pain motivations. (I didn't say it would be pretty.) In the end, the pleasure-minus-pain of choice one was greater than the pleasure-minus-pain of choice two, so I submitted the post. Your telling me you're going to try to apply it to other aspects of your life reinforces to me that I made the right decision in choosing to try to help others (seeking pleasure) rather than trying to keep my theory secret and prevent a loss of possible fame and fortune.

So thanks. :)

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I ate a hooker half a bottle of knife.

Oh, i forgot too:

Relief does equal pleasure as you said
Regret does equal pain.

These are the two-biggest self-administered pain and pleasure devices. (Our own operant conditioning of ourselves.) Since they are self-administered, they're tweakable and can help someone learn to seek pleasure rather than avoid pain by learning to regret less and be relieved more.

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I ate a hooker half a bottle of knife.

That actually helps put thing in perspective, Obi and wirthing. Looking back on almost all the choices I've made, I can see just how few of them are anything to do with what would bring me joy... just things that would alleviate or make me avoid suffering.

I'd have chimed up sooner if I were here to see where this was going, but lately, I've been having what you might call rootless feelings of despair. It's like I'll be hit with this incredible mix of saddness and apathy. These bouts hit every 2 to 4 weeks, and last anywhere from between an hour to three days. Sometimes they're set off by an event, but usually it's just totally random. I'll be the first to admit that I was never a positive or upbeat kind of guy, but it just feels lately like I've been losing faith in... not everything, but most things. In most people. But most especially in myself. I'm also prone to anxiety attacks under extremely stressful situations... it started a couple of years ago, in the spring of 2000. You do NOT want to know what it feels like to be driving down the road and all of a sudden find yourself going spontaneously blind behind the wheel... halfway losing conciousness, and feeling your heart trying to beat its way out of your chest.

Unlike a number of you people, I've never contemplated suicide, and I've never been a drug user... unless you count caffine, and the few nights this week that I took Valerian to help me sleep a little better. I don't really believe in the psyciatric drugs. Even though I may not be happy with all the things about myself, I'm afraid that if I were to get medicated like that, then I wouldn't be myself anymore... and I'm not eager to give up who I am. I've seen people on some of these drugs before and they change drastically, and not always for the better.

Pleasure: When I steal Obi's book idea and make millions when Oprah features it on her book club.

Pain: When Obi catches me and beats me to death with a pipe.

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100 pounds of shit in a 25 pound sack.

Good for you!

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"And Wirthling isn't worth the paper he isn't printed on."

I'm the same way. Not only that but whereas you're prone to panic attacks, I'm prone to agoraphobia. There were a couple of periods when I wouldn't go out of the house for 3 to 4 weeks. Growing sick of Chewy's Pizza and finding my cigarrette and chew stockpile dwindling would be the only thing that would get me out. I'd go shopping, then not go out for another 2 to 3 weeks.

The worst part of the anxiety disorder for me was knowing how fucked up it was. I mean I KNEW there was nothing out there to worry about, but that didn't stop the butterflies from arising in my gut.

I know this sentiment well. I had clinical depression when I was 17 that was so bad that one time my truck backfired while I was backing out of the garage, and my mom and sis came running out from the house, sure I had just offed myself. I went to therapy, got Zoloft, and took it for about 3 months. After 3 months, I was more relaxed, less edgy, and the depression was gone (which doesn't equate to happiness, but rather to losing that pit of the stomach feeling). So, with all these good side effects, it was no wonder I decided to quit the Zoloft. I did it because I was afraid of becoming a Stepford Wife type. Amiable, placated, dumb smile on my face, nothing going on upstairs. A chemical labatomy.

All I can say though is that if you're on the right drug for you, it's not like that. It's like finally being yourself without the distraction of depression. And if it isn't the right drug, you can always stop taking it. Antidepressants take 3 weeks to kick in and it's recommended you stay on them for something like 9 months to a year after symptoms subside to prevent the symptoms form re-occuring. That means you can start taking the meds now, have 3 weeks to change your mind before they'll kick in, then have maybe a good 3 months to take them and see if you like them. If you do, cool. If you don't, you can quit and your mood will go back to however it was before taking them. (The 3 months is just a guess, but it seems a safe bet if 6 to 9 is the recommended medication period for non-occurence.)

Just don't do nothing, Drexle. It *may* go away by itself, but in maybe 3, 4, 5 years. (Mine took 4.) That's a hell of a time to wait.

You're talking about someone who's 310 pounds. If I were to catch you, I'd keep you alive, and tell all your friends.

Thanks, it won't be an easy battle but...SHIT!

---------------------------------------------------

I leave for 6 months then come back and can't shut up. No more consecutive novellas, I promise.

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I ate a hooker half a bottle of knife.

quote:

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I was the type who never studied, never gave a hoot about school, and completed assignments (if at all) at the last minute. Since I resumed taking classes a couple of years ago, I am suddenly getting things done way ahead of when they are due and I am enjoying learning.

I find now that I am driven by the pleasure (relief?) I feel in getting the assignment done and adding to my knowledge. I've always liked to increase my knowledge but I usually didn't want to do so if it required much effort to learn. (As a result, I generally know a little bit about a lot of things but not much about any one thing in particular.)

I'm going to try to apply this to other aspects of my life (smoking, diet, exercise). Thanks, Obi...

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Shit. I look forward to doing that in the winter. They call it cocooning now, IIRC. Then again, I'm not so much agoraphobic as somewhat misanthropic.

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I wanted my half in the middle and I wound up on the edge.

Like Gabe, I am clinically chipper. Which is a good thing, because it helps me through the times when my wife is depressed. She suffers from clinical depression, stemming largely from some really bad childhood stuff that I won't get into.

My best description of how it is from the partner's side is that, during the tough times, everything is amplified. So there are reactions to things at a level that don't make a lot of sense. She knows these reactions are out of proportion, but she feels powerless to stop them -- the train has left the station.

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...Trot and Cap'n Bill were free from anxiety and care. Button-Bright never worried about anything. The Scarecrow, not being able to sleep, looked out of the window and tried to count the stars.

The fact that so many of us are battling depression seems to lend credence to the idea that comedy comes from pain. This also explains why Gabe, who feels no pain or stress, is not the least bit funny.

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"And Wirthling isn't worth the paper he isn't printed on."

One aspect of this thread sort of makes me wonder, though. What's wrong with wanting approval? I don't go up and sing my ass off thinking "I'm doing this to get approval". My focus is just doing the songs. I lock into that and just... go. Hard as I can. But if nobody claps (I.E: approval) -and, actually, they always seem to- I would be a little concerned about how well I was doing what I set out to do. Approval can be a good barometer sometimes, I think.

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I wanted my half in the middle and I wound up on the edge.

Apparently this explains why Fuzzy isn't funny, either.

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"And Wirthling isn't worth the paper he isn't printed on."

By the way, wirthling: I nicked this: [Click to view comic: 'New Guy'] to make this:
[ Posted comic does not exist ].

Thanks :- )

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I wanted my half in the middle and I wound up on the edge.

The important thing, though, is that your happiness should not depend on the approval of others. Approval from others can be useful as a way of gauging the acceptibility of our actions by society (Is my singing making babies cry? Was running through Times Square naked to express my dissatisfaction with the last episode of "ER" a good idea? and so on), but it should not be a prerequisite for happiness. One needs to be able to be happy even when nobody is watching, and I think ObiJo was saying that he felt no happiness without approval. I could be wrong...

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"And Wirthling isn't worth the paper he isn't printed on."

I'm pretty sure that guy was one of my dealers once upon a time.

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"And Wirthling isn't worth the paper he isn't printed on."

I can dig that. It's hard for me to translate a lot of this stuff because huge parts of my life, well... are a complete blur. I know that any type of self-indulgence, self-doubt or other needy behaviour was immediately met with "How would you like your ass kicked up around your fucking shoulder blades, you whiney fuck" -as a rule- when I was a kid. There was no room for any of that. It probably didn't do me any good overall in the emotional sense, but you can stick my arse in the middle of the Sahara desert and I will walk out. Alive. Who knows. I think I missed a lot, but it taught me to create what I needed out of nothing. Maybe it's all a push. We'll find out in the next world. I just try and spread as much love as I can and never get burned by the same fire twice.

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I wanted my half in the middle and I wound up on the edge.

Goddamn those comics are funny! Post them in the CC and you two can be the two-headed monster running the next one.

I don't think there's anything wrong with wanting approval (especially for an entertainer) as long as you want approval for doing your own thing, and the approval isn't the most important thing. I have the tendency to do the things that will get me approval, regardless of what I want to do. It's like if you found out tonight's audience you're performing too only likes Yanni songs. Seeking approval would be playing them Yanni songs, even if you hate them. Not seeking approval would be playing your own stuff or maybe firebombing the gin joint and saving the gene pool.

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I ate a hooker half a bottle of knife.

I spent several years depressed... after having a nervous breakdown. They weren't directly connected (probably), since the breakdown was years earlier. After years of trying to sleep 14 hours a day, and not killing myself because I had studied the statistics on how often suicide only partially succeeds, I had a life-changing realization: "This is no fun."

I stopped dwelling on bad stuff, and since then I've been the most militant happy person you'll ever be irritated by.

Of course, that didn't fix the reasons I have for being depressed, mainly the crushing anxiety that keeps me from working and improving my life and stuff, but at least I'm happy.

And damn, Wirthling, you live in SF? I live in Oakland, right across that toxic dump we use for a bay. Hmm. Wonder if there could be a Bay Area stripper meet...

As a warning, I'm poor and I don't drink, so I can be damn boring.

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"Only things I approve of should exist." -some guy on the internet