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Reality vs. Depression: You're Unique, Just Like Everybody Else

written October 2007

Why is it that reality and depression always seem to set in at exactly the same time...

American Idol is chock full of people who throw hissy fits because award winning judges say they can't carry a tune. We know they can't carry a tune. Everybody and their mother knows they can't carry a tune. But the singers... the singers swear they're the best. And who wins? We do. We get to point and laugh because these are the stupid of the stupid. We're allowed to laugh because we know we can't sing. Contrary to the contestants, we're all firmly grounded in reality.

Or are we?

I was playing poker the other night, and the guy running the game kept losing his money. It was small stakes ($20 buy in), and somehow this kid managed to dump off over $100 in small increments. The game before this he lost about $50. The game before that he dropped $80. I'm no pro, but from what I've seen he doesn't make the best decisions. Yet he's one of those guys who off the felt talks about all the "bigger games" he plays and how much he crushes online. "Yea I was playing $1-$3, $500 max, and I got aces against kings and this donkey doubled me up. Oh by the way, the restaurant isn't my main source of income." Ok buddy, if you made most of your money playing poker, I seriously doubt you'd work night shifts and pull doubles every weekend. And in between all those shifts for "spare change," I doubt you'd waste your time hosting games as small as .25/.50. But hey, whatever helps you sleep at night.

I cannot figure out the psychological phenomenon of gambling. This guy thinks he has. It seems like every guy I've ever talked to would rather anal-rape a porcupine before saying he doesn't consistently profit at any given game of chance. For the love of God people, it's GAMBLING. There's no need to be embarrassed about losing. The fate of your money is decided by a roll of the dice, the turn of a card, or a ball on a wheel. Don't claim to be good at it, because it's not in your control. If you're bad in bed, I understand your shame. But luck? It's not cool to be lucky, and it's not uncool to be unlucky. So why lie and say you're "good"? Why are most people so adamant about this? That reminds me... A few weeks ago I was trying to coax a girl into playing poker with us. She gave some BS reason not to, but says, "I'm actually pretty good." Of course I'm automatically more attracted to her. I try to talk to her about the finer points of the game, and then she says, "I mean I'm good, but I don't really know all the rules. My guy friends kinda tell me when to bet and which hands are better. But I always win." Um... at what point did you draw the rational conclusion that you're good at a game YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT?! I'm sorry, did I say rational? I meant ridiculous.

Well, maybe this compulsion to gamble is genetic. In one of my psychology classes from undergrad we learned about an experiment where pigeons became addicted to gambling. Yeah, you read that right, degenerate pigeons. Here's what happened. They conditioned these pigeons to peck a disk for food. Every minute the pigeon pecked the disk, enough feed to survive on (say 1 or 2 pellets) would come out of a chute, and the pigeon expected this. So after conditioning a few pigeons to do this, they added a new disk. This new and improved disk would distribute many more pellets of feed. The pigeons were ecstatic, and as a result quickly became conditioned to this too. But here's the catch: the new disk wasn't consistent. It would give ten pellets the first minute, then zero pellets for the next 20 minutes, then five pellets, then maybe ten minutes later (or an hour--some random increment of time) another five pellets would come out. The exact intervals aren't important, but what is important is that they were spread so far apart, it wasn't enough to survive on. Well, when both disks were successfully conditioned, the pigeons were given the option, and they always went for the disk that provided more pellets inconsistently. They always gambled for more instead of settling for enough. The experiment had to be stopped because they began to starve to death.

Given that, I'm still not satisfied. Granted, we have our primitive urges: hunger, thirst, safety, desire for power, sex, and oppression of women; but we also have a capacity for logic and reason. Why do we still set aside the latter for the more primitive of the former, like gambling? Apparently we're no smarter than a bunch of birds that coo incessantly and turd-bomb cars all day. I really hope we're not the top of the evolutionary line. I pray every single day that there is a species out there higher than us that looks at us like we look at pigeons. Because... damn.

Anyway, that segues to my main point. In another experiment, a large survey full of comparison questions was conducted. On a scale of 1 to 10 (1 being low, 10 being superior) the participants were to rate themselves in terms of looks, wealth, future success, desirability, others' opinions of them, etc. A vast majority rated themselves well above average. On almost everything. Last time I checked, the concept of average was relative. If we're all above average, who the hell is below average? The answer: people who showed slight symptoms of depression--the mildly depressed. That's right, if you have a realistic outlook on yourself, the world, and life in general, you are likely to become, or may already be, somewhat depressed.

As I'm sitting in class listening to this, I can't figure out whether to laugh or to cry. I just got confirmation that I have a high probability of being depressed, but I simultaneously got confirmation that I am better than everybody because they all have their heads in the clouds. And by in the clouds I mean up their asses. I didn't mark myself as average or above average. I had a steady stream of 2s, 3s and 4s. But there was one I had to leave blank. For the item, "On a scale of 1 to 10, how much ass do you kick?" my teacher said you can't score higher than 10.

The validity of that test just went out the window.

My point is this. Everybody reading this thinks they're special for some arbitrary reason or another, myself included. However, there are six billion people on this earth, and growing. I hate to be the bringer of bad news, but the odds are stacked against you on this one. The truth is we are no better than the American Idol idiots, nor are we any better than my dim-witted, gambling addicted acquaintance.

So start getting over yourself.

Hell, some of the most celebrated intellectuals, artists, and personalities throughout history committed suicide because of depression. If you try to be more like them you'll nail two birds with one stone. 1) Your head might come out of your ass, and 2) you might kill yourself. Either way, the world is a better place.

And remember...

You're unique, just like everybody else.

I'm kidding, don't kill yourself. Beer is good. Comedy is funny. Sex is yummy.... Life is rich--go live it.

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