I had rough sets last night, ergo the depression is back. Being a stand-up comedian with depression is probably the dumbest thing I could possibly do to myself. It’s like trying to help an alcoholic by offering heroin. Nevertheless, here we are.
Another thing I should point out – I appreciate all of the kind words that people have been posting. But at the same time, I want to make it clear that I am not asking for pity. (I’m asking for money and a sitcom deal). I also recognize that I should be grateful for people’s kind words, and I am. But I am also still mad that I’m not currently flanked by two Brazilian supermodels.
Nor do I seek to diminish or trivialize depression. It is a serious condition, and millions of people all over the world have a much worse case of it than I do.
This is the biggest cause of shame for me – the fact that I didn’t make it into my high school advanced acting class, and I responded by falling into a two-year depression. You know what, that’s a lie. I’m still depressed about it.
I had told myself that if I made it into that advanced acting class, my future would be secure. (I’m not sure if David Hume would laugh or cry at that.)
But, looking back on it, I can’t believe that I did that to myself. Over not getting into an advanced acting class. People around me are depressed because they have lost loved ones, or because they have serious health problems – I’m flipping out because I missed out on the chance to perform a Christopher Durang monologue in the holiday show.
I’ve been to therapy, and I’ve read books about how to deal with all of this, and the only thing that seems to work is to go about my life as if I weren’t depressed.
Side note – lately, in casual conversation, I’ve been called “dog.” As in “hey, no problem, dog.” Why not use other animals for this term of pseudo-affection? I’d like to say “hey, no problem, oscelot.”
I also hate it when people call me “brother.” Does it look like we building a mission in South America together? I prefer the phrase “hey, you.” It’s neutral, and an accurate reflection of how we really feel about each other.
But back to the whole depression thing – if I go around doing what I would do as if I weren’t depressed, that does help sometimes.
Another side note- they’re offering free skin cancer screenings across the street – should I go? I swear to God, if I walk in there and they just refer me to a specialist…
So, what would I do if I were not depressed? I think I’d write a genre parody movie. I would write jokes without writing long rants about why I’m not writing jokes. I would also probably sleep with more people. You know, live.
So maybe that’s what I’ve got to go and do… (he said, knowing full well he would probably just attempt to write the genre parody film and continue not sleeping with people for the foreseeable future).