But only as of a couple days ago did I even consider it. Shock treatment. That’s for the real loonies! Well I guess I’m one of those now. Dozens of meds later and I know my brain chemistry is even more out of whack than it was in the beginning – or out of whack in a whole new and exciting way. It’s a lottery, trying these different meds, which one will work? And, to add to the complexity, each one leaves an impact on the brain, altering it – maybe a lot, maybe a little – but none leave without a trace. I could start the list over and who knows, what didn’t work before might fit now. But each time I try one out, the experience of waiting long enough to see the effect, instead of just the side effects, is misery.
“Try this and see you in a week.” Well that week is made up of days, hours, minutes, seconds of torture. So what then. When trying so many different things isn’t working, what then.
I’m desperate. Desperate to feel calm. Desperate to feel any kind of happiness. Desperate to not spend every moment just trying to make it to the next moment, and the moment after that. Desperate enough to let Western Medicine run an electrical current through my brain to generate a seizure – and then see if that works.