Holy cow, what was this bump?

Did I hit someone? A bottle, a rock, a sidewalk drainage, a bloody hole in the asphalt? No. Not good enough. My brain needs to know exactly what happened. I drive back and lurk around. It’s this tiny chance I knocked a child over, a dog, a helpless old woman. I could stay there for hours. My mind will not be appeased.

Serotonin comes in and satisfies this need. The obsessive need to know for sure, to be in full control. Antidepressants? They don’t provide new Serotonin. They prevent our brain from consuming it too quickly. We often hear that Serotonin makes us happy. In reality, all it does is satisfy.

I’m not advocating SSRIs.

We are captive birds trapped in our zoo cage. Force-fed antidepressants so we don’t pluck our feathers out. Pills are not the solution. Freeing ourselves from the cage sounds better.

But the foundation of rampant capitalism is based on perpetual economic growth. Growth is sustained by consumption. Consumption satisfies needs. If everyone was satisfied, then capitalism as we know it would be shaken at its core.

Consume mainstream media, feel inadequate, want more than you have, be unsatisfied, consume more. When you burn out and get depressed, take SSRIs, recover and join the consumption cycle again. Economy grows, big pharma grows, everyone looks happy.

Here is what dawned on me during my two years with SSRIs:

1). The less needs we carry on our back, the more satisfied we are.

2). The more satisfied we get, the less selfish we become.

3). The less selfish we are, the more we empathize and serve others.

A side-note about the elephant in the room: Thinking about sex all day? Go for a run. Endorphins will sort you out. The most depressed people I know—including myself three years ago—are also sex-obsessed. Sex has become a product. While tuned-in to mainstream media, it’s hard to be content with our sexual partner, our body, or the amount of sex we get.

Bin your TV. Breathe. You are perfect just the way you are.

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