Will This Column Cure My Depression, or Yours?
Humans have sought it for centuries and now it's too easily attainable: we need less dopamine.
Happy Friday, sailors. Apologies for the radio silence the past week as Kevin and I are still ironing out the kinks and working towards consistency with this vague digital collection of words. Part of it is burnout — that is, two guys with (relatively) normal jobs and (relatively) normal lives sometimes just don’t find the time to pour thoughts out of their brain and onto paper — but another part of it, at least for me, is something that can be incredibly devastating to have to accept: sometimes, I just don’t have a god damn thing to say.
Back in 2020, I had convinced myself that writing would be a good outlet to both express myself and to connect with other people during the initial lockdowns in California. Though generally irritable I might be, I am a social creature and, unfortunately, require the attention and validation of other people — bummer. With that in mind, in spite of how casual these writings are and how carefree they’re supposed to be, I still found myself stressing over their quality and wanting to put the fullest amount of care and consideration into my work. The stress took me back to college and unpaid internships. For me, the desire to want to do good or be better was empowering at times and self-deprecating at others.
So, fast forward two years later, and here at well-known internet publication you better not be online, I find myself wanting to continue in the age-old tradition of rearranging letters of the alphabet. Only, two weeks in, I found myself at my computer looking at a blank screen thinking, “Why the fuck don’t I have anything to say?” (That was last week, legit I had no thoughts.) Now, there’s a pretty good joke to be found here. Let me explain…
Back in college, as I was navigating various internships and wanting to find my big break at one of the SEO factories we call “publications” or “magazines,” I found the minutiae of rapidfire news reporting incredibly dry and the need to be as quick as possible had rendered much of my affinity for writing useless. Less craft, more work. I felt like I couldn’t keep up with how quickly collective consciousness ebbed and flowed, so, ultimately, I just stopped writing in that environment because I felt like I wasn’t suited for it.
That ended up being a bunch of BS, as evidenced by the mere existence of this blog. Don’t get me wrong, I like what Kevin and I are doing, we’re having fun getting to banter about literally whatever it is we want. (Not a podcast, to be clear.) And yet, even after all of the mental mind games that come with trying to convince yourself that you are definitely cool and definitely smart and definitely having fun, you wake up one day and end up feeling paralyzed. Suddenly, it hit me like a bad joke: I ended up making myself do the exact same shit I said I didn’t wanna do some five or six years ago.
I recently discovered the phrase “dopamine feedback loop.” A quick google defines this the loop as:
“… a self-perpetuating circuit fueled by the way the neurotransmitter works with the brain’s reward system. Feedback loops, in general, are circuits that return output as input to a given system to drive future operations and, in this case, behaviors.” via Techtarget
In layman’s terms, our brains are conditioned to seek dopamine (or generally, things that make us feel good) and then remember whatever gives us that same feeling so we can seek it out later. What people do or don’t find pleasurable is whatever, I don’t care about that. The real issue here is there is too much god damn dopamine available and none of it means anything.
I don’t mean to preach here because I’m just as guilty. I spend too much time on the bird app that is now owned by Grimes’ ex-husband and I am a frequenter of both the 7-11 and the H Marts near my work. But that’s just it, it’s too much! Navigating the work-life balance of adulthood combined with balancing living for today with living for tomorrow and also trying to balance all the money and energy you have to make yourself happy but also make you and all your friends and family happy. Man, it is too damn much. One stupid $7 coffee or an innocent $18 sandwich for lunch when you’re down turns into an occasional thing, then into a weekly thing, until suddenly, you’re an expert on Indian sodas or Japanese sports drinks.
I unload on thee, I preach to thee, but alas, I have no answer. Not for you, at least. For me, I think it’s as simple as this: I need to rewire my brain. How do I do that? Oh, I just have to unlearn years of behavior and also maybe make way more money than I do now. Longer days or the ability to function with less sleeper would also be ideal. Perhaps if my body makes less dopamine, then the dopamine I receive afterwards will mean more… right?
Look, all bullshit aside, you don’t need me to tell you that life is hard, we all know that. A big reason of why the idea of the dopamine feedback loop resonated so heavily with me is that I have recently tried getting back into reading again. I can’t front, it’s been hard as fuck. My attention span is shot, so much so that even when I’m reading something I like, my brain is actively seeking something else. I can feel the atoms in my brain bouncing around like a million simultaneous games of Pong going on at once.
Last week, as I was struggling to write a different draft of this column, the ironic epiphany I had was stunning. In college, it felt good to stop subjecting myself to internships and vague ideations of success, and yet, just a few years later, I found myself subjecting myself to the same pressure… just myself! I closed my laptop last week feeling defeated and generally just weird about it all. Then it hit me, that damn loop.
Quick Hits is back (to the tune of the Wendy’s $5 Biggie Bag commercial jingle)!
Of the books I have tried diving into in my foray back into print, the most notable of these is easily the brilliant Rosecrans Baldwin’s Everything NOW. I may yet write something on it but the least I can say is I consider it essential reading. A rarity that captures Los Angeles in all its grime, smog, beauty, glitter, in ways that so many people try but fail to and ways that other people often overlook or ignore.
This is not a drill: Chief Keef is working on an Almighty So 2. The first Almighty So was and remains probably my favorite work Keef has done outside of Back From the Dead. “Blow My High” might be the best beat that Keef has ever rapped on.
Bandgang Lonnie Bands continued his excellent output with Creatures In Paris, one of the standouts of fall’s rap releases. His whispery voice and unceremonious tone remind me of Keef or Drakeo the Ruler, rappers who sometimes rap in ways that feel like we’re overhearing them. His keen ear for beats match his cold raps.
Caroline Polachek finally released the studio version of “Sunset,” a song you have no doubt heard if you’ve seen her live since she has started doing shows again. The fun part is deciding whether you think it’s the soundtrack to suntanning on Iberian or Mediterranean beaches or doing poppers while playing Ocarina of Time.
I’ve decided I’m gonna do something I’ve never done before: I’m gonna listen to The 1975 and Lana Del Rey (i.e. I wanna see how the other half lives). I never had before, especially with Lana as I am fairly lukewarm on her early work, but recently I’ve heard some high praise for both of their works — specifically I like it when you sleep… and Norman F*****g Rockwell! — that was enough for me to consider it. I’ll report back.