The Fate of the Human Race... Dopamine.
It’s 3:37pm and I’m sitting crosslegged on an empty theater stage. The light above doesn’t touch the center of the floor because my face eclipses the spotlight. My eyes closed, I hear the memories of 42 voices echoing sounds of laughter in my brain, all happening an hour before.
In less than fourteen days, I grouped five other talented individuals, two cameramen, four cameras, sound microphones, a greeter, a customized playbill, a new mailing list, to produce an hour long improv show.
It was a full house.
The audience’s applause brought my heart to glow.
Their greets afterwards brought a tear to the side of my eye.
The social tags boosted my ego.
The intense practicing of weeks before, the compulsive deliberation to just make a show, and the sleepless nights to make sure the show would run smoothly all came together in that hour.
Yet.
Here I am.
On stage.
I’m not celebrating.
I am worried.
Dopamine.
According to Daniel Z. Lieberman & Michael E. Long book, “The Molecule of More: How a Single Chemical in Your Brain Drives Love, Sex, and Creativity--and Will Determine the Fate of the Human Race” I am in big trouble.
The concept of the book is how the Molecule Dopamine controls our lives… and how people who have a higher need of Dopamine, people who often seek out adventures, compulsive behaviors, usually crash hard once things settle down.
Half a million dollar compulsive gambling loss…
Jumping in and out of flings and relationships…
Scattered often from project to project…
Cannot sit still…
Compulsively spending $2,000 to put on a show in less than two weeks - all because I had a spike in my head that I didn’t want to wait seven years to perform on stage, and instead wanted to perform on stage in front of people…
I am one of those people who allows high waves of dopamine to really take over my life. Therefore, I know that in this moment of calm. In reflecting what I just accomplished… I’m going to crash.
Reality is setting in -
The “what the fuck did I just do?”
“was this even worth it?”
“did we get all the footage need to make a good video?” “what are the things we as a cast could improve on for next time?” “can I even afford this indefinitely?”
Depression is on its way.
Because calm is uncomfortable.
Calm is depressing.
I don’t know if this is the right word, but maybe it comes from a place of insecurity, where “do I even deserve the praise from the audience?” Maybe it’s the future thinking of work that needs to be done to get these clips out… stress.
Maybe it’s the idea of something of something that I don’t know the something of -
All I know is that crying feels appropriate, but there’s not an ounce of actual water streaming down my face. I would love a god damn great good cry.
What am I getting at?
Basically, fuck my elevated levels of dopamine…
but god damn is it addicting.
What about you? How’s your relationship with Dopamine?
Thanks for reading
Some Korean Cafe in Los Angeles
6:38pm.