I was in the hospital the first three weeks of April after my last post. I took care of myself by going in the hospital to be kept safe from my suicidal impulses and to start ECT again. As a common meme says, “It’s ok to ask for help. It’s ok to start again. It’s ok to say no. It’s ok to rest. It’s ok to let go. It’s ok not to be ok.” Going in the hospital and starting ECT again was telling myself it’s ok not to be ok, and it’s ok to rest and to start over again. Having had success with ECT at the end of 2018, my psychiatrist recommended a course of it again including maintenance to hopefully prevent a mood crash again after only a couple months of stability.
Now I am out of the hospital, adjusting to life without suicidal thoughts, and have had 13 treatments. My mood is holding steady between treatments and suicidal thoughts are drastically reduced. I can’t say I’m feeling as good as I had been after the last course of ECT. But I did just go from ECT 3x/week to ECT 2x/week. I’m staying the course by keeping up treatments even though I don’t really want to do ECT. Something about it just weirds me out. But I really want the experience of feeling good for an extended period of time, and ECT seems to be the main treatment that leads there.
I continue talking with my therapist over the phone on Fridays. And my mom is my companion for ECT, driving into the city and then keeping watch over me as I recover. I’m able to reach out to these thick branches of my support system, as well as some smaller limbs too, as I try to feel not alone. I wish I felt good and strong and happy again, but at this point I at least have hope that it will happen again as ECT continues.