The wondrous truth of Electroconvulsive Therapy.
Finishing up on the bike I head to my room and shower, again marvelling at how a task that drained so much energy not long ago can so quickly become part of my normal routine again. At 12:30pm I head down the hall to the treatment room, ready to go in. Despite it being my third time now there is still a sense of anxiety about the process, the seeming seriousness of it all. For such an incredible treatment, the fact that they aren't even sure how it works induces both apprehension and wonder in me. I also start to worry about how much my memory will be affected this time, what I will forget next. Already I can't remember the names of anyone new I meet, and I find myself all too often walking into rooms and in the middle of doing things not knowing why. Still, I'll take that over how I used to feel.
The healing power of movement.
I feel the bay air across my body and the thud of my feet on the footpath. The way my breath naturally reaches a rhythmic equilibrium calms me. But the most amazing thing I have found about being in motion, is the way my mind is able to become more empty than I can ever remember it being in my entire life.
Still We Rise
"Since we cannot change reality, let us change the eyes that see reality"
Living with psychosis.
I end up back in the corner again, the rhythmic thud, thud, thud of my head against the wall continuing. I hear them coming back, but there are more of them this time. I watch in petrified horror as I am approached by six nurses, all of whom look like giants from my position on the floor. I am picked up as I thrash about, kicking and biting and screaming. They must have got permission to knock me out. I find myself on the bed and it is in this moment the me that has been floating is reconnected with my body. All I can see is people all around me, all holding me down to the bed. One for each limb, and one for my head, then on the count of three they flip me over, pull my pants part-way down and the sixth nurse injects something into my glute. Quick as a flash, they leave.