Depression and ECT 25

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html
#depression
#ECT

Fluffy Bear thinks the ECT is working. He told me today that he thinks I've been pretty good all week. I have to admit that, in general, I do feel a bit more upbeat than usual.

I'm wondering if this is a taste of how normal people feel. It's always mystified me how people can be relentlessly positive. I've always marveled at the energy they put into actively being positive. But now I'm thinking: do they actually FEEL positive? Is it not an act, an effort, but just an expression of what they actually feel?

I find this to be an earth shattering revelation. Can people actually feel positive about stuff most of the time? Is that even possible? It just feels so fucking alien to me. It's like I've lived my whole life amongst English speakers and then someone drops me off in rural China.

And then the next question: can the ECT make me more like those people? Can I feel positive - hell, I'll even settle for just neutral - about things in general? Can I look forward to tihngs? Be excited about things?

Can I appreciate the art that office planning just put up in our corridors instead of thinking it's a fucking waste of money when jobs are being cut in other departments? Can I set up my bonus goals for the year and actually look forward to tackling the projects and collaborating with colleagues? Can I want to go to yoga and enjoy it thoroughly when I'm there?

Is this really possible?

Is it?

I feel like a kid standing at the window of a candy store and the store owner is Mr ECT and I'm not sure if he's going to let me in.

Don't get me wrong... I know ECT isn't a magic wand. I have work to do, too.

My brother sent me an email this week asking me to contribute to his planning for the year. He asked me to list some of hie strengths and weaknesses, and to list what he should start doing and stop doing. I gave him honest feedback and asked that he fill in the same form for me.

Here's part of what he wrote:

START DOING – ideas from the course on time allocation
o Adventurer – a new role to compliment health, family, finance, work,
§ Agree with Fluffy Bear one fun thing to do this year
§ Jump out of a plane
§ Work on your bucket list
§ Plan trips to London, New York, - tag onto business and work outings
§ Fix something that scares you
§ Do Toastmasters, dance lessons,
§ Find something unusual – mud pool, sleep outside
§ Start a gratitude journal
§ I will train my brain to be positive
o Minder
§ Read a book on how to
§ Teach someone something
§ Start a journal
§ Create a beautiful day once a month
· STOP DOING
o Venting on Facebook (very, very dangerous)
o Sweat the small stuff

I think the stuff he has under "Stop Doing" goes back to what I was saying before. I'm starting to suspect that I really don't see things the way other people do, and I really don't feel the way other people do. To what degree is my seeing a flaw in a business process my choice to be negative vs. it being the way my brain processes things? I don't think I'm hearing enthusiastic voices in my head and choosing to ignore them. I think they're not there in the first place.

Not only that, but venting makes me feel better. Venting on Facebook is something I do frequently. To stop doing that do I have to bottle up my feelings?

My brother would say that the answer lies in his point "I will train my brain to be positive." I know this because it is something he has done and I admire him for it. But I struggle with that concept. I struggle with a sense of losing who I really am, and with a suspicion that it's all an act, and the true bigger or resentful feelings fester underneath.

Will ECT help me to have a brain that has some enthusiasm, some glass half full? If feels like it is doing so a little bit. I've felt lighter these last few days, and more anticipatory of good things to come.

But now I start to worry about the effects sticking. My last session is scheduled for this Friday. What happens after that?

I guess we'll see.

THE WORST TYPE OF CRYING WASN'T THE KIND EVERYONE COULD SEE -- THE WAILING ON STREET CORNERS, THE TEARING AT CLOTHES. NO, THE WORST KIND HAPPENED WHEN YOUR SOUL WEPT AND NO MATTER WHAT YOU DID, THERE WAS NO WAY TO COMFORT IT. A SECTION WITHERED AND BECAME A SCAR ON THE PART OF YOUR SOUL THAT SURVIVED. FOR PEOPLE LIKE ME AND ECHO, OUR SOULS CONTAINED MORE SCAR TISSUE THAN LIFE.
KATIE MCGARRY

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html

Depression and ECT 24

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html
#depression
#ECT

I have to begrudgingly admit that it was an OK day today. I was so busy at work that the time flew by, but I didn't let the pressure of the workload get to me. I managed to get through about half of my inbox - two more days and I should have it under control.

I even took time out to have coffee with Fluffy Bear, who was in town for meetings.

Our boss is turning 60 and we gave him some gag gifts today: massively high waisted swimming trunks, a cane, lube.... Luckily we had red velvet cake for him too, so that softened the blow.

I was a little restless at home this evening in front of the TV, but we found a new HBO series called True Detective, which was extremely compelling. It feels like it's been done in the style of the Scandinavian series like The Bridge.

I feel a bit mentally restless as I type this,but I am also feeling tired, which is a very good feeling.

I'd say that on a scale of one to ten, where one is suicidal and ten is a really fun day, today was a six, maybe even a seven.

Long may this upward trend continue!

IF YOU KNOW SOMEONE WHO'S DEPRESSED, PLEASE RESOLVE NEVER TO ASK THEM WHY. DEPRESSION ISN'T A STRAIGHTFORWARD RESPONSE TO A BAD SITUATION; DEPRESSION JUST IS, LIKE THE WEATHER.
STEPHEN FRY

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html

Depression and ECT 23

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html
#depression
#ECT

It's Sunday and, as on every Sunday, the thought of going back to work and facing my life tomorrow fills me with dread. It's an almost physically palpable feeling: a tightening in my chest and a slight nausea in my stomach.

What is it that I'm afraid of?

I suppose the first fear is that I simply won't be able to face my day, and that I'll end up making some pathetic excuse about a migraine, then spend the day getting in Fluffy Bear's way in the house, knowing work is piling up on my desk in the office.

Other than that I suppose I fear how mundane and little and petty my life is, and that I'll have to face that fact, and yet somehow function. If you take the reasoning to its logical conclusion, surely it must be a fear that I cannot bear my little life, and therefore it's a fear of suicide.

I know this must seem so completely pathetic as you read it. It must sound over dramatic, or whiny, or insane. But the problem with depression is not just the thoughts. It's the feelings. The feelings in spite of the thoughts.

The dread I feel about going back to work and into society tomorrow feels very, very real. And all my logical, motivational thoughts don't make any impact whatsoever on that feeling.

So how am I going to get around this? I'll do what I've done in the past, and that is to use my morning routine and muscle memory to move through it. If I can just slot into the routine - wash hair, rinse hair, condition hair, rinse hair - I can hopefully get through it and just get myself to the office. Once I am there, I have work to distract me. Then I can broker a series of distractions for myself until somehow, inexplicably, the baseline feeling switches to OK. It's a feeling that ECT has definitely intensified for me, but it's the same one I try to hold onto in vain while it's like fine sand through my fingers.

I have to have faith that feeling OK will become more and more the norm for me and will truly become my new baseline.

I have to have faith.

IT'S SO HARD TO TALK WHEN YOU WANT TO KILL YOURSELF. THAT'S ABOVE AND BEYOND EVERYTHING ELSE, AND IT'S NOT A MENTAL COMPLAINT -- IT'S A PHYSICAL THING, LIKE IT'S PHYSICALLY HARD TO OPEN YOUR MOUTH AND MAKE THE WORDS COME OUT. THEY DON'T COME OUT SMOOTH AND IN CONJUNCTION WITH YOUR BRAIN THE WAY NORMAL PEOPLE'S WORDS DO; THEY COME OUT IN CHUNKS AS IF FROM A CRUSHED-ICE DISPENSER; YOU STUMBLE ON THEM AS THEY GATHER BEHIND YOUR LOWER LIP. SO YOU JUST KEEP QUIET.
NED VIZZINI

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html

Depression and ECT 22

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html
#depression
#ECT

I told the shrink on Friday that I feel better, and then normality is like fine sand, slipping through my fingers. I try to hold on to it but I can't.

It's difficult to explain the feeling of depression without sounding trite.

I was sitting on the couch an hour ago and I it was as if I came into awareness, an awareness of a feeling of emptiness, and pointlessness. I thought about our plans for the rest of the evening, and my plans for tomorrow, and they felt shallow and stupid and tedious.

Fundamentally, everything felt pointless, meaningless.

It's not a nice feeling. And it's very palpable. There's nothing confusing or subtle about it. It feels very, very real.

MENTAL PAIN IS LESS DRAMATIC THAN PHYSICAL PAIN, BUT IT IS MORE COMMON AND ALSO MORE HARD TO BEAR. THE FREQUENT ATTEMPT TO CONCEAL MENTAL PAIN INCREASES THE BURDEN: IT IS EASIER TO SAY "MY TOOTH IS ACHING" THAN TO SAY "MY HEART IS BROKEN"
C. S. LEWIS

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html

Depression and ECT 21

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html
#depression
#ECT

I got a slightly weird phone call today.

I take part in a health program at work that offers free telephone coaching. My coach's boss called me, saying that she had expressed concerns about me based on things I had said in our last coaching call. He wanted to check that I was OK.

I explained that I am undergoing ECT and am under close supervision of a psychiatrist and we had an amicable conversation.

I thought back to my coaching call and I just don't know what I could have said that would have made my coach worry. I didn't think I mentioned any of the psychological stuff. Did I come across as a nutball?

I remember talking about the fact that I had totally fallen off the wagon over the festive season, that I was going to start using my LoseIt app again and that I am taking a challenge to do yoga every day in February. I also talked about being addicted to sugar and trying to manage that by having dark chocolate in the house. I don't remember saying anything at all controversial. In spite of myself, is my crazy showing?

And, more worrying still, does this mean that my crazy is showing in other interactions without my realizing it?

Or did I tell her about ECT and just have no memory of doing so?

Also, why did she talk to her boss about me, and why did he call me? Are they covering themselves against potential law suits? I find it hard to believe that someone who has never met me, and has simply spoken to me on the phone a few times about diet and exercise, genuinely cares about my welfare.

The boss told me that he was just checking in to see if they could help in any way, but it sounded like bullshit to me. He was doing that thing people do when they take too long and say too much when explaining themselves. It's an overcompensation in an attempt to disguise their not revealing their true motives.

It's unlikely, but I also can't help but wonder if this gets reported to my employer in some way. My boss and boss's boss know what's going on with me, but we haven't run it formally past HR.

Unsettling.

THE SUN STOPPED SHINING FOR ME IS ALL. THE WHOLE STORY IS: I AM SAD. I AM SAD ALL THE TIME AND THE SADNESS IS SO HEAVY THAT I CAN'T GET AWAY FROM IT. NOT EVER.
NINA LACOUR

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html

Depression and ECT 20

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html
#depression
#ECT

Today was going so well. I was bevearing away at work, and one of my colleagues said that I seemed like my old self.

But I began to feel depression creeping up over me like a Hanna Barbera theif, slowly inching it's way into my psyche.

Then it hit me. I don't want to go through ECT tomorrow, and I started to cry and cry.

Now the TV we're watching seems pointless and poor Fluffy Bear beavering away in the kitchen making hot chocolate seems empty and trivial.

What is it that makes me go from perfectly fine to deflated? What sparks depression brain?

Sometimes I can feel it coming but that doesn't mean that I can stop it.

It's like I have an invading army inside me, they have spies, they carry out covert operations, infiltrating me and, next thing I know, they've gained ground.

How do I fight this thing?

Later on....

The thing is still under the bed in the spare room. Fluffy Bear switched off the light in there before I had gone in and got my meds. Because of a weird design in this old house the light switch is not at the door so you have to walk into the dark room and go and feel the wall and turn the light on. When he'd switched off the light before I was done i there I almost freaked out.

Whatever it is under the bed in the spare room doesn't feel very dangerous, but it doesn't feel benevolent either. Over the past few nights I have closed our bedroom door before we went to sleep - something I never normally do.

So let's look back at this day...

I still have depression brain creeping up on me, and I have crazy brain about some presence in the spare room.

Great, just fucking great.

I DON'T WANT TO SEE ANYONE. I LIE IN THE BEDROOM WITH THE CURTAINS DRAWN AND NOTHINGNESS WASHING OVER ME LIKE A SLUGGISH WAVE. WHATEVER IS HAPPENING TO ME IS MY OWN FAULT. I HAVE DONE SOMETHING WRONG, SOMETHING SO HUGE I CAN'T EVEN SEE IT, SOMETHING THAT'S DROWNING ME. I AM INADEQUATE AND STUPID, WITHOUT WORTH. I MIGHT AS WELL BE DEAD.
MARGARET ATWOOD

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html

Depression and ECT 19

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html
#depression
#ECT

I have to admit that I am starting to feel better. I'm tearful (the slightest thing makes me cry) but I.m not hopeless, or numb.

Today a friend called me while I was on the bus, just to check in, and the fact that she did that made me burst into tears. She's dealt with depression too, and it was so kind of her to think of me and wonder how I'm doing.

I know I'm feeling better because I don't have to force myself to get through the day nor do I have to stop myself from looking at the clock, so that I don't feel devastated when no time has passed. I have been oblivious to the passing of time, simply getting on with my work. In fact, I am possibly a little hyper and over-ebullient. There were a few times today when I had to make myself keep quiet in meetings.

I saw the shrink yesterday and asked him if he had amped up the juice on Monday, but he said he hadn't changed anything. I'm almost petrified to even think like this, but I feel like something has shifted. Apart from the tearfulness, I'm feeling almost normal.

There is one thing that's a fly in the ointment. For a few days now I've felt like there's a presence in the spare room. It makes no sense, and I'm not a huge believer in spirits, but this has been making me feel uncomfortable. Yesterday I went in there and went up to where I thought it was and waved my arms and hands around frantically to disperse the energy. And it felt like it retreated under the bed.

And then I think to myself that this shit is proof that I AM crazy. Crazy in the real sense of the word.

But that thing is under the bed. Even now I feel it. It's not killer dangerous as such, but it's not a positive energy. And it's there.

BECAUSE WHEREVER I SAT -- ON THE DECK OF A SHIP OR AT A STREET CAFE IN PARIS OR BANGKOK -- I WOULD BE SITTING UNDER THE SAME GLASS BELL JAR, STEWING IN MY OWN SOUR AIR.
SYLVIA PLATH

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html

Depression and ECT 18

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html
#depression
#ECT

ECT today was utterly horrific.

Instead of a 9am appointment, mine was at 11am because this is an extra session that we added because I am not doing well and no 9am slots were left.

We arrived at 10:54 and one of the intake nurses asked us to go out and wait in a seating area by the elevators until 11:00am. She also said there were two people ahead of me. The thing is, they book three people an hour so, from the patient perspective, when we arrive and hear that there are people ahead of us, we resolve to arrive earlier the next time. Hence us all arriving before 11:00am. I was pissed off at being told to go and wait by the elevators, and that I was third in line, so we weren't starting off well.

Fluffy Bear and I killed time at the Starbucks, waiting till after 11:00 to arrive - what was the point of arriving on time if I was third in line? When we got there, there was a patient who was complaining bitterly. The Nurse Manager had been called, and was talking to her. Complaining Woman was very loud and simply wouldn't allow the conversation to wind down. On the other hand, I agreed with a lot of what she was saying.

Then she apologized to her husband for the unpleasantness of the situation, and that made me cry. There are so many times that I have felt like a burden to Fluffy Bear, and felt desperately sorry that he has to put up with all this. Hearing Complaining Woman say sorry to her husband struck a chord deep inside me, and I started to snivel.

After a while the Nurse Manager went away to further investigate whatever it was that had pissed off Complaining Woman so much. I went up to Complaining Woman - a woman seemingly in her 60s - and thanked her for saying something about the issues that morning, saying I agreed with a lot of what she said. She stood up and enfolded me in her arms, and I collapsed into tears. I told her she should never apologize, because it's not our fault that we are sick.

The Nurse Manager returned and I asked her if there was a process improvement team at the hospital who could come and look at the ECT operation and evaluate how to create efficiencies. She said the hospital did have a team, but implied that the ECT area was not on their radar. She expressed regret, admitting that ECT was one of the busiest areas in the hospital but was overlooked.

I thanked the Nurse Manager for her time and explained to her that, under normal circumstances, we might be able to deal with problematic situations, but that we ECT patients had no tolerance. I apologized for that, but reiterated that it was simply a fact. I parted amicably with her and Complaining Woman and went back to my seat.

In the meantime there was another patient in the intake area who was extremely upset and was being aggressive, swearing repeatedly at one of the intake nurses. It's never pleasant to be around someone who's flipping out, especially when they're angry and abusive. I don't know what Abusive Woman was angry about, but she was extremely vocal.

Finally both Complaining Woman and Abusive Woman went in for their appointments, and I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

I took one of the clipboards and filled in the mood evaluation form. I found my file on the computer table and signed my consent form.

And waited.

And waited.

Eventually I realized I had been there more than an hour past my appointment time. I went up to the reception desk and asked what was going on. That sparked some action and a nurse came and did my intake.

Both nurses were looking at my hands and arms, however, and neither of them wanted to do my IV. They've done it before in my hand, but both hands are bruised from previous IVs. They decided to page the IV nurse. And so I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Eventually the treatment nurse came up to me and said they'd put my IV in in the treatment room, and wheeled my IV pole after me as she escorted me across the hall.

Once inside the treatment room I asked my psychiatrist if he knew the hospital's process improvement team. I told him the intake area was a clusterfuck.

"A what?" said the treatment nurse.

"A clusterfuck," I repeated. She looked confused, as if she'd never heard the word before.

The anesthesiologist engaged in a lively conversation with me about process improvement, six sigma, LEAN and why the intake area needed it. He was so skilled that I didn't even notice him put the IV in. Makes a change.

And then the mask was over my face and I was taking deep breaths and floating off to La-la Land.

I woke up in the recovery room, and I was crying. And I couldn't stop. All the stress of my intake process seemed to be coming out, and I just wanted desperately to go home. It was also about 1pm by this time, so my blood sugar was probably very low.

The recovery nurse was very kind, but I just couldn't stop crying. I cried while putting on my shoes and glasses, while walking back to the intake area, and while waiting for Fluffy Bear to come and get me. Of course, when he arrived, I started crying even harder. I sobbed all the way to the car and until we were four streets away from the hospital.

And so, without a doubt, my worse ECT appointment to date. In fact, my all round worst DAY in a very long time. The only ray of hope in this entire nightmare was that Complaining Woman told me that she had had ECT seven years ago and that it had been a miracle for her. Maybe it will eventually work that well for me too.

Fingers crossed.

DEPRESSION IS THE MOST UNPLEASANT THING I HAVE EVER EXPERIENCED... IT IS THAT ABSENCE OF BEING ABLE TO ENVISAGE THAT YOU WILL EVER BE CHEERFUL AGAIN. THE ABSENCE OF HOPE. THAT VERY DEADENED FEELING, WHICH IS SO VERY DIFFERENT FROM FEELING SAD. SAD HURTS BUT IT'S A HEALTHY FEELING. IT IS A NECESSARY THING TO FEEL. DEPRESSION IS VERY DIFFERENT.
J. K. ROWLING

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html

Depression and ECT 17

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html
#depression
#ECT

It occurred to me that I have started a series on depression because I am having ECT, and I have yet to describe the ECT experience. So here goes...

I arrive at the hospital at about 9am and enter the ECT registration room. There's a desk (behind a counter) for the scheduler, then six intake chairs. They're those hospitally chairs, a version of dentist chairs.

First, I have to fill in a questionnaire about how I've felt over the last two weeks. Then I have to sign a consent form. It's the same form with multiple lines to sign and date to consent to the procedure described on page one.

Second, they take my vital signs. They wheel over a machine that has a blood pressure cuff on it, which they put on me and allow to do it's automated thing. A strange wand with a rollerball in it is is passed over my forehead to take my temperature.

Then the nurse comes to put in my IV. Unfortunately the one that is usually there has the shakes, so she's stuck the needle through my vein a few times. When I first came for treatments I was told by this guy to ask for the IV team, and I did a few times, but it seems insulting when you see the same nurse three times a week, to ask for the specialist team. So now I put up with her poking me, and pray. She hasn't been too bad of late, so my patience is paying off. She puts a little butterfly IV thing in, and then hooks me up to an actual saline IV.

While the IV is being put in the nurse asks me a bunch of questions. When did I last eat or drink (I have to fast prior to the procedure)? When did I last take X medication? Y medication? Do I have any pain?

Last but not least, they put a medical tag bracelet on me.

Once the computer has been updated with all my info, vital signs, etc., and I am plugged into the saline drip, I can wheel my little drip over to the waiting room across the hall.

A different nurse comes out from the treatment room to get me, and takes my saline bag off the drip pole and walks me over to the hospital bed. She hangs the saline bag up on a new pole and asks me my full name and date of birth, then reads a medical record number from my medical bracelet to the anesthesiologist, who puts it into a computer.

I have a brief check in chat with the psychiatrist. It's not always my psychiatrist - he alternates with another one in his practice to actually do the ECT treatments.

The nurse puts EEG and EKG electrode thingies on me and wipes with some kind of liquid above and behind my ears.

The anesthesiologist introduces him or herself and, if needed, asks me any questions to do with anesthesia. The anesthesiologist seems to change all the time. I don't think I've ever seen the same one twice.

The nurse strokes my head while she puts a mask over my face, and asks me to take deep breaths. The sleepy medicine tends to hurt as it goes into my hand (that's generally where they put the IV), but it doesn't hurt for long.

Then I'm waking up in the recovery room. There's goop in my hair on both sides above my ears but the EEG/EKG sensors are gone, as well as the IV. I'm drowsy, of course, and the recovery nurse asks me how I am, possibly including a question that will give him or her an indication of my recovery, like what the date is. The nurse asks if I'd like something to drink and I always ask for cranberry juice, which comes in a small yogurt-like cup.

Once the nurse feels I am awake enough, he or she takes the tape that held the IV off my hand, and helps me out of the bed and to walk back to the intake room. I think that, as I shuffle by, the scheduler calls Fluffy Bear and tells him he can come and get me. The nurse offers me a muffin or a banana, or even more to drink, but I tend to refuse.

Seeing Fluffy Bear is always an enormous relief. Then we can leave the hospital and go and get lunch somewhere.

I'LL NEVER FORGET HOW THE DEPRESSION AND LONELINESS FELT GOOD AND BAD AT THE SAME TIME. STILL DOES.
HENRY ROLLINS

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html

Depression and ECT 16

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html
#depression
#ECT

Today I feel like the Shit Bubble has shrunk ever so slightly - that I can crane my neck, jut out my chin and maybe, even if just for a moment, poke my head out of it and breathe fresh air.

It could be being back on Respiridone, and it could also be today's ECT treatment, which was harder to get through that normal. Luckily Nurse Shaky Hands got my IV in on the first try, but the anesthesia really hurt going in, and I had to mentally cheerlead myself through that. When I woke up I really wanted to go home, but I was more drowsy than usual. I tried hard to be chipper and convince the nurse that I was fine, but she's no fool. She asked me where I was and for the date, and I couldn't remember the name of the hospital or the year.

The short term memory loss side effect of ECT is really starting to kick in.

When I first learned short term memory loss was a problem you have to deal with when undergoing ECT, and read the complaints online about it, I thought: "What are they bitching about? Who cares if you can't remember what you had for lunch?"

I'm starting to find that it's not quite that innocuous.

I'm forgetting things like how to get to the store (I guess that's why I'm not allowed to drive while in treatment), and how to do certain tasks at work. I'll turn to do something, something I've done many times before, I take out the required paperwork, and simply do not know where to start.

I'm not a sports person or an artist. I define my self-worth through my intelligence, so this is a bitter pill.

However I joked with Fluffy Bear today that maybe, in order to be happier, I literally have to become stupider.

I did see something today that gave me a little ray of hope. It's a TED talk about the potential for body language changes to alter self-perception. I'm going to be practicing these techniques to help me get through days at work, for sure. I've already tried smiling for two minutes today to see if it improved my mood, and I think it might have given me a little boost.

Here's the talk:

Amy Cuddy: Your body language shapes who you are http://on.ted.com/rdF1 #TED

CRYING IS ONE OF THE HIGHEST DEVOTIONAL SONGS. ONE WHO KNOWS CRYING, KNOWS SPIRITUAL PRACTICE. IF YOU CAN CRY WITH A PURE HEART, NOTHING ELSE COMPARES TO SUCH A PRAYER. CRYING INCLUDES ALL THE PRINCIPLES OF YOGA.
KRIPALVANANDJI

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html

Depression and ECT 15

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html
#depression
#ECT

Fluffy Bear just found me crying my eyes out in the kitchen.

What an amazing husband he is. He hugged me and said: "You'll always be safe with me."

I tried to explain how I felt to him, to explain this weird thing called Depression, and this is what I said:

"It's as if we're all on a tropical beach. Everyone is swimming and playing volleyball and running around and doing whatever they're doing, but I am cold. No matter what I do, no matter what I tell myself, I feel cold. I try swimming in the sea - I feel cold. I try sunbathing - I feel cold. I try thinking warm thoughts - I feel cold. It's an illogical, pervasive feeling. And I can't shake it."

"But you know that it isn't always going to be this way," Fluffy Bear said.

"It doesn't feel like that," I replied.

"Yes," he said, "but you KNOW that isn't true."

"I'm just trying," I told him, "to explain to you how this feels."

And that's what I'm doing with this blog too. Depression is a weird, weird thing. Living in the Shit Bubble is the most illogical experience I've ever had. And no matter what you read, talk about, think through, the feeling remains. You might know things are going to get better, but it just doesn't feel like that's true. It's very hard to believe something you can't feel.

IF I CAN'T FEEL, IF I CAN'T MOVE, IF I CAN'T THINK, AND I CAN'T CARE, THEN WHAT CONCEIVABLE POINT IS THERE IS LIVING?
KAY REDFIELD JAMISON

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html

Depression and ECT 14

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html
#depression
#ECT

I'm still struggling in the Shit Bubble.

Today I was in the elevator at work and it stopped at another floor on the way down to the lobby. A really obese woman got in with some of her team mates, chatting away. I'm not thin by any means, but I found myself looking at her and thinking "I would put up with being that fat if I could be that happy."

Isn't that pathetic?

Getting to work in the first place was a gargantuan effort today. I woke up at 7am and went to take my morning pee and just started crying and crying. Fluffy Bear suggested I go back to bed till 8 and he'd drive me to work, so I set another alarm and crawled back under the covers. I didn't sleep heavily by any means, but I woke up at 8am feeling marginally better.

Still, I wasn't well. The Shit Bubble felt like lead around me. I was cheerleading frantically to simply move through my morning ablution routine.

"I promise you, you can do it," I repeated to myself, over and over again.

I cried through washing my hair, my face, my body.

I promise you, you can do it.

It was reduced to just sniffling through drying my hair, and I managed to get dressed without tears.

I promise you, you can do it.

As I ate cereal, I was visualizing myself at my desk, doing my work, being functional, being normal.

I promise you, you can do it. I promise you, you can do it. I promise you, you can do it.

Fluffy Bear drove me to work and I started with a very simple task, trying to distract myself. It worked.

I made it through to 10:45 before I noticed the time, but said no to two different requests to go to coffee with colleagues. There's no way I could have made conversation.

"You look terrible," Sue said to me when she came up to my cube. I wasn't offended. It was actually reassuring. When you feel like crap from depression you sometimes think that you must be imagining your problems, that you're just creating the issue, that, frankly, you're full of crap. So knowing that pain showed on my face, that it was real, was a validation.

I made it through to 1:45 before I phoned Fluffy Bear and asked him to come and pick me up. Nobody questioned me when I left early. I guess I really did look like shit.

But I promised myself I could do it, and I did it. Not for the whole working day, but I got some stuff done.

Me 1, Depression 0.

DEPRESSION IS LIKE A BRUISE THAT NEVER GOES AWAY. A BRUISE IN YOUR MIND. YOU JUST GOT TO BE CAREFUL NOT TO TOUCH IT WHERE IT HURTS. IT'S ALWAYS THERE, THOUGH.
JEFFREY EUGENIDES

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html

Depression and ECT 13

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html
#depression
#ECT

It's difficult to explain the Shit Bubble. It surrounds me, and I live in it.

TV is boring, food is tasteless (apart from sugar), I feel no motivation to exercise, work takes gargantuan effort and I'm filled with dread at the thought of having to go to work in the first place, nothing social appeals, my husband is irritating and, worst of all, I look at my dogs - my babies, my heart - and I feel absolutely nothing. It seems I'm either irritated or sad, and I have to talk myself through the simple routine of the day, spurring myself on as if I'm at a sports meet.

The Shit Bubble is a simple fact of my world and I don't seem to be able to pranayama or yoga or pray or wish it away.

I go to sleep in it. I wake up in it. I can't shake it.

I saw the doctor today and we agreed that I should go back on my Respiridone and also that I should have an extra ECT session.

"Years ago," he said, "we'd have hospitalized you for a long time and introduced or subtracted one medication at a time, tweaked ECT treatment frequency and taken the time to empirically determine how to achieve the best results. But that's not practical or how we do medicine now, so we slowed down ECT and changed your medication at the same time, and we can't be sure which variable is having this effect."

I must say the thought of hospitalization has it's appeal. Taking the time to really figure out how to manage my depression would be an interesting option. But there's no way insurance will pay for that, and there's no way we could cover the copay.

Going through this dip has made me think a lot about my father. He definitely suffered from depression and I believe that I inherited it genetically from him. Feeling how I do right now, I wonder if he felt the same. If he did, it explains a lot of his weird behaviors over the years. He'd come home from work with migraines at least once a month, taking to his bed. He'd break into emotional speeches at family gatherings, making us all uncomfortable as he praised us or thanked us or some such. And he'd often seem broody, melancholy or, as I interpreted it at the time, a sourpuss.

What I don't understand is, if he felt the way that I do now, how did he get through life unmedicated? I'm on four different medications, for fuck's sake. What did he do? Did he self-medicate with cocaine? I know he didn't drink. His father was an alcoholic and he was uberprudent around alcohol. Did he get through his life simply through his own will? Because, if so, then I bow to him with deepest respect. In fact I regret, in many ways, not only how I treated him, but how I saw him. Because this depression thing, this disability, this is fucking hard.

Right now it feels too hard. But I'm forcing myself to keep going in the Shit Bubble. I'll take Respiridone tonight and maybe, maybe it will feel better tomorrow.

Maybe.

A MELANCHOLY-LOOKING MAN, HE HAD THE APPEARANCE OF ONE WHO HAS SEARCHED FOR THE LEAK IN LIFE'S GAS-PIPE WITH A LIGHTED CANDLE.
P. G. WODEHOUSE

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html

Depression and ECT 12

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html
#depression
#ECT

My eldest dog functioned as a service dog tonight. When I got home he started nudging me and licking my face and then I realized that I needed to sob some stress and anxiety out.

I've essentially beamed back 6 weeks, back to crying jags in the shower, and sobbing to find some release.

It's because my psychiatrist has me tapering off Respiridone. As soon as I started taking less of it, I started to fall apart.

It's so frustrating. I feel like ECT has been a complete waste of time. What's the point if I find myself right back where I was before ECT?

I'm going to see the psychiatrist tomorrow - I called him in tears today to ask for an appointment.

Does this mean that the ECT has had no effect at all? That I've had IVs stuck in me and anesthesia and taken a month off work for nothing? And does this mean that there's no solution to this depression problem? Do I have to move in a bubble of misery where nothing feels like fun, and the slightest thing makes we want to cry? Seriously, is this my life? And is that really worth it?

Later this evening, some inspiration. A quote from a book called Letters to a Young Poet:

I beg you to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.

PEOPLE SAY I'M THE LIFE OF THE PARTY BECAUSE I TELL A JOKE OR TWO. ALTHOUGH I MIGHT BE LAUGHING LOUD AND HEARTY, DEEP INSIDE I'M BLUE. SO TAKE A GOOD LOOK AT MY FACE. YOU'LL SEE MY SMILE LOOKS OUT OF PLACE. IF YOU LOOK CLOSER IT'S EASY TO TRACE THE TRACKS OF MY TEARS.
SMOKEY ROBINSON AND THE MIRACLES

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html

Depression and ECT 11

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html
#depression
#ECT

ECT is now down to once a week, and my psychiatrist suggested I come off the Respiridone. He suggested cutting it in half for four days and then coming off it all together.

I have to be honest that, since I've started cutting it down, I've been really bad.

I've been beyond irritable - right into full bitch mode. I spent twenty minutes on the phone at work explaining to a colleague that my team would not be responsible for the quality check in their process because it wasn't our place. In the nicey nicey culture of my work place, I think that freaked him out.

I've also just been way worse mentally. Not just sad and hopeless, but planning suicide.

It's really hard to be in this frame of mind. It's as if it's impossible to take pleasure in anything. Things are either meaningless or empty or dull. I feel like a burden on my husband. I try to practice mindfulness and live in the moment but it feels so trivial.

So what do I do?

Do I keep on cutting out Respiridone and hope that, once it's out of my system, I even out a bit? Or start taking it again and just tell my doctor that it's too soon to start messing with meds?

I feel like none of the doctors here have a clue what they are doing when it comes to combining meds. The drug companies don't test the meds in tandem with each other so there's no data on interactions. It's just a fucking crap shoot.

GUESS THERE ARE TIMES WHEN WE ALL NEED TO SHARE A LITTLE PAIN / AND IRONING OUT THE ROUGHT SPOTS / IS THE HARDEST PART WHEN MEMORIES REMAIN / AND IT'S TIMES LIKE THESE WHEN WE ALL NEED TO HEAR THE RADIO / CAUSE FROM THE LIPS OF SOME OLD SINGER / WE CAN SHARE THE TROUBLES WE ALREADY KNOW / TURN THEM ON, TURN THEM ON / TURN ON THOSE SAD SONGS.
ELTON JOHN

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html

Depression and ECT 10

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html
#depression
#ECT

Talked to psychiatrist when I went for treatment today and, when she asked how my mood was improving, I explained that it was a little better, but not much. She asked how my memory issues were going and I told her that I had had a few forgetful moments but that, frankly, I considered the memory issues trivial. She suggested that we change from unilateral to bilateral treatment, which basically means that, instead of putting one electrode on the top of my head and another on the right side, they put one on the left side and one on the right side.

This means the whole brain gets zapped instead of just the right brain. They usually stimulate only the right side so that they can minimize effects on the left side of the brain, where memory is stored. By putting one electrode each side, the efficacy of the treatment potentially increases, but so do memory loss side effects.

As well as switching to bilateral, we decided to set up an office appointment to discuss weaning me off some of my meds.

In case I haven't explained it before, the psychiatrists take turns administering ECT. So she isn't my doctor. The appointment to discuss meds will, however, be with my assigned doctor.

As they got ready to send me off to sleep, the nurse put the bit on my chest. That's always a slightly disturbing moment. It's a brown plug type thing, and the part that goes into your mouth is about 3 inches by 5 inches, a trapezoid shape.

There were three anesthesiologists in the room. One was a student, and looked like a deer in headlights. He had an impressive jewfro.

Waking up seemed to take longer than usual. The nurse in the recovery room left me to my own devices for what seemed a long time. My jaw was aching. It felt like I had been grinding my teeth for hours and hours. Opening my mouth hurt. I explained to the nurse that I had a sore jaw and she offered me some oxy. It's bizarre to be offered something that you only ever hear of on TV in the context of drug abuse. I was in severe pain so said yes, and took the pill with some cranberry juice.

The nurse left me for about ten more minutes before approaching me again and getting me ready to walk back to the intake room. It was clear she was leaving me longer than she normally would to recover. When I got up to walk to the intake room, I was definitely more unsteady than I normally would be. I had to concentrate on walking and my balance. Bilateral zapping must be a bitch.

Back in the intake room I asked for more cranberry juice. They give it to you in little plastic cups with peel back covers. I have to admit I find it disturbing how much waste is generated in the hospital. Everything is packaged, wrapped and then thrown away after one use due to the need to keep things disinfected. There are full trash cans everywhere. If I worked in the hospital system I would want to run a project to see how one could maintain sterility while minimizing trash.

Fluffy Bear came to pick me up and I asked him if we could please go to the new ice cream shop near our house. My jaw hurt like hell, I was definitely the worse for wear after what seems to have been a more intense treatment, and I just wanted ice cream for breakfast. Childish, but that's how I felt. A few minutes later I was gingerly chewing a chocolate chocolate chip cookie and washing it down with chocolate ice cream. My jaw still hurt but it made me feel better. Ice cream is awesome stuff.

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html

Depression and ECT 9

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html
#depression
#ECT

Things my depression brain tells me:

"I want my life back."

"I want my mom back."

"I need to sleep."

"This isn't worth it."

"Just go. Go."

"Too tiring."

"You suck."

"I need my life to be different."

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html

Depression and ECT 8

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html
#depression
#ECT

The psychiatrist has put me on Lithium, hoping that will make the effects of the ECT stick. I feel lighter, brighter, after treatment, but it fades away.

I feel a little bit at sea with this process. My psychiatrist is one of two who alternate taking care of ECT treatment, so I often see the other psychiatrist. Even when my psychiatrist is on duty, we don't have a lot of time to talk in the treatment room. It's a bit of an ECT production line. In -- zap! -- out! -- next! -- in! -- zap!

I'd really like to just sit down and have an hour with my psychiatrist and discuss what's going on and where we are. But it seems as if they want to get the seizure treatment over and done with and then assess.

After a month of treatment three times a week, I am cleared to go back to work and I'll have treatment every Friday for another month. That means another month of not being allowed to drive.

I suspect that the psychiatrist will want to wean me off some of my other meds pretty soon.

I guess I just have to be patient and wait until we get to the Friday only stage, and ask for an office consultation during that time.

Sigh.

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html

#depression

Depression and ECT 7

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html
#depression
#ECT

I don't feel as good today. Having had a taste of feeling normal - neither too hot nor too cold, Miss Goldilocks - I now feel like something precious has been taken away from me.

The nurse in the recovery room said she had been my nurse at my first treatment, and that she had been off work since then, so there's been a gap since she saw me last. She said she could see a definite improvement in me. I felt very encouraged by that, but still depressed at not feeling as good as I did yesterday.

I'm starting to worry about getting this treatment finished. I'm scared that the doctors are going to say that I have to continue treatment into next month and that I'll have to take more time off work. The treatment is working - I can feel it - but the effects aren't sticking. It's like eating Ben and Jerry's ice cream - you feel like the flavor is almost on the tip of your tongue, but really tasting it eludes you. You never feel real satisfaction no matter how much you eat.

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html

#depression

Depression and ECT 6

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html
#depression
#ECT

Dealing with ECT side effects:
I've bought those big pill dispenser trays and laid one out with my morning meds and vitamins, and another with my bedtime meds, for a whole month. Begone short term memory loss!
I've explained to my friends that I am not allowed to drive the whole month, so a few of them are helping out by giving me rides.
I've bought coconut water and leave it in the car to drink after treatments to rehydrate.
I've put all the bills and documents I need to deal with on the fridge, with magnets.
I've put everything I can think of, that makes sense, into my iPhone schedule.

To start the Depression series at the beginning, click here: http://ittybittycrazy.squarespace.com/imported-data/2013/12/29/depression-1.html

#depression