This is my personal blog about my journey into the world of electroconvulsive therapy. I hope it will also chronicle my eventual exit from the world of depression. I’ve been depressed a long time, am one of those with treatment-resistant depression (meaning the meds don’t work, or only work a short time), and electroconvulsive therapy is a carrot on the end of a stick for this miserable pony.

I apologize for not keeping up with my blog. My intentions were sincere, but my life exploded.

I had the electroconvulsive therapy and did intend to chronicle my daily experiences. But I was just too out of it to be able to come to any coherent thought.

It FUCKED ME UP and I am so god damn sorry I had it. This is truly the worst thing that happened to me.

My techie friend who was going to post my thoughts can confirm everything I say. He was with me every step of the way and now blames himself at “allowing” me to have the electroconvulsive therapy. It’s NOT his fault. It was my choice, but I now believe I was given a line of shit.

Before the ect “therapy”, I was horribly depressed. Depressed beyond words. But with the support of a boss who had compassion and worked around my bullshit, I was still able to hold down my job.

Now I’m on Social Security Disability. Thanks, shock cockfuckers. (And if you don’t like my language, then fuck you and go away. I’m god damned mad for it ruining my fucking life.) In fact, it fucked me up so badly that I was able to get SSD FIRST ROUND. They got the paperwork and said “Wow, Ashley’s a motherfucking mess. Passed.”

My friend is willing to answer questions if you like, but I’m not. It’s taking everything I have to write this and he’s having to clean up the degeneration into horrible spelling and grammar. I’ve lost about every skill I had except my fine ability to cuss up a storm.

And p.s., I’m STILL DEPRESSED only times fifty because now my brain is total shit.

My life is totally fried, it’s a mish mash mess.

I may write more, or I may not. I’m thinking of giving this domain and website to someone who can make better use of it. I’m too messed up in the head to do what I’d planned.

I read up (or thought I did) on electroconvulsive therapy before having it, but I fell for the shit. And it’s SHIT. But I wanted to believe because I wanted this depression hell to end.

It didn’t and if I thought it was hell before, I didn’t know what hell was.

I read negative stuff about it, but I guess I didn’t listen. I wish I had.

You can read these websites which have a lot of information good and bad. Don’t discount the bad, although I know people will. We’re all looking for that fix, and I’m afraid to say it doesn’t exist.

ECT.ORG website with a lot of electroconvulsive therapy information

Zaprap.org discussion boards on same I haven’t posted but I’ve read a lot and it’s worth reading, but you have to register for membership for most of the site They mostly seem like nice people
My life is so fucked now.

Tomorrow is the big day. The day of promise. The day of hope. Everything rests on tomorrow.

I’m filled with hope of tomorrow. Ick. Now the song from Annie is running in my head. Make it go away!

I’m not allowed a computer in the hospital, but I can smuggle in my Blackberry. My techie friend has set this up so I can send my blog in via my Blackberry. I’m not that technically proficient, but he promised it will work when I’m there. I just have to make sure I’m not caught with my illegal Blackberry.

And if I’m busted, I’ll write stuff on a hospital napkin and let my friend type it up for me. He’s a good guy. And a fag, or I’d be married to him.

It’s Saturday night and in my healthier life that would have meant having a great date with a good looking man or heading out to some clubs with my friends. But here I sit at my computer, trying my best to not picture what’s going to happen on Monday.

I’d love to have a dog but I can’t even care for myself some days. How could I care for a dog? Poor me.

I try and tell myself my life could be so much worse. I could be living inside an ugly blue burqa, trying to see life through a piece of mesh. It’s true, but it’s not true to me. My life, right now, is the worst thing on the planet. At least Muslim women in burqas really have no clue there’s a better world out there. They’re like zoo animals, born into captivity, never knowing there’s an African plain with their name on it where they could run free (and be shot by poachers for their fur).

I’ve turned into a cynic. Will electroconvulsive therapy cure my cynicism?

Technorati Tags: Muslim women, electroconvulsive therapy

I’m trying so hard to just wait this out and stay calm. I go from terror at the thought of the whole ordeal to excitement that this hell could end. Wouldn’t that be a pip? Everyone at work thinks I’m going into rehab. How insane is that? Less stigma to be a crack addict than a mental patient.

Maybe I’m a chicken for not “coming out” and going public with the electroconvulsive therapy. But it’s an embarrassment to admit you can’t control your head. I’d rather coworkers think I shoot smack than have bad brain chemistry. Is that a screwed up world or what?

I’m sure the gossip whores at work  are chattering right now, trying to decide what drug of choice Ashley uses. Is it crack, heroin? Alcohol? I’ll never tell. I hate everyone I work with anyway. They drink sweet tea of  course. Oh god, I hope this sweet tea thing doesn’t follow me to the psych hospital. Do you think the nurses will know I’m a foreigner when I say hold the sugar? Jebus, what will I do? The thought of trying to drink sweet tea in the midst of all this is too much to bear. I have to have unsugared tea or I will die.

Technorati Tags: mental patient, electroconvulsive therapy

Everything you read on the subject of electroconvulsive therapy sounds the same. Are all of the journalists who write about it on autopilot? I even watched some news clips, including 60 Minutes. The same. Just change the names, use a thesaurus to swap a few words, and the article is done. They might as well call each story “Insert Name Here” and be done with it if they aren’t going to do any real reporting.

This blog is more for me than anyone else. I’m afraid I’m going to forget things when I have the treatments and this will help me remember. Or at least it will be a record in case something bad happens. I need to rediscover my optimism about this. Right now, I’m just scared.

I called in sick to work today. I’m still trying to hold down my job but it’s not easy.

This is my blog about my journey with electroconvulsive therapy.

My name is Ashley.

After having suffered from terrible depression for a long time, nothing has worked. The meds, therapy, nothing. So I’ve decided to try electroconvulsive therapy.

I’ve read a lot of websites, lots of personal stories.

I know that memory loss is a real possibility, which is why I’ve set up this blog. A friend of mine is a techie and set it up for me, got me the domain name, and made it all very easy. Thanks to Greg for the help!

I start treatments a week from tomorrow, and will have them three times a week. Is it a bad omen that I start the day before Halloween? Trick or treat.

I’m putting my faith in my psychiatrist, who has assured me they’re safe and they’ll work. I trust him. I hope that’s not foolish, because I’ve put my trust in men before and they’ve fucked me over.

Oh, by the way, I use graphic language, so if the f word bothers you, you might want to leave now. I use it a lot.

Here’s to electricity and hoping it brings the relief I seek. I’m optimistic and almost relieved now that I’ve made my decision. I think I’ve done a thorough job in researching all the pros and cons.

Technorati Tags: electroconvulsive therapy, memory loss