Six Years Ago, Today

I am going to try an experiment. I am going to try putting some of my journal entries written beginning six years ago, just a few days after being released from the hospital. I’d just left the hospital a few days previous, after living there for about two months, following complete emotional break down. I am a sufferer of depression, diagnosed with “severe, treatment resistant, clinical depression, with associated social phobia and anxiety.” Still, six years later, I have not recovered, and am basically house-bound, with almost no contact with the outside world aside from my family. It makes for a lonely existence. My journal writings have been, for the most part, a thing of pain, depression and perhaps, madness. Anyway, here we go. This first installment is written, again, just a few days after leaving the hospital, just after having a series of ECT treatments, and we’ve traveled across the country to the east coast to spend Christmas with my family there.

January 26, 2001 

07:45 - Last night was pretty rough; I am still very upset by how I’ve been reacting to things and by how much I have apparently been forgetting. I don’t understand what happened to me last night, why I got so upset. I’m going to have to attempt to figure a few of these things out today. Today I think that we are going to go to the library in Bangor, and will probably try to do a few other things today. I believe that we are also planning on going to the children’s museum with all of the young children, but actually I think that will be on Thursday. Friday night we are planning on going to the auction with Crystal and Steve.

19:30 - Today, we had a full day. We did all (Jack & Jeanne, Forest, Lane & Josh and Linda & I) end up going to Bangor, where we went to the library. At the library I got mom into her Yahoo! email and showed her how to reply to a couple emails that she and Jack had received. I also got in and confirmed the order and acceptance of a Visa application. I then checked my checking account balance, and checked the price of some of my stocks (looked good). In the library I was looking for books that might shed some light on my psychiatric problems, specifically give me some information about the ECT (Electro-Convulsive Therapy) treatments that I had received. I found several books in the computerized card catalog, all of which were shown to be “on the shelf”, but none of which actually were, at least where they should have been. I did end up finding another book that looked interesting, “Aftershock: a woman’s deeply moving struggle to return to life after a mental breakdown.” by Ellen Wolfe. This book is billed on it’s dust jacket as “… the deeply moving firsthand account of one woman’s return to life — after a series of electroshock treatments in a mental hospital.” the dust jacket goes on to say “For, as she discovers upon her return home, shock therapy produces selective amnesia (”You feel as if you are waking up all day long“). “Specific details of her month-long hospital stay are nothing but a blur. She remembers she has a son but forgets she has a daughter; the most simple everyday situation can develop into a major crisis: a trip to the supermarket;p what her children eat for breakfast. So much that she previously took for granted simply has been expunged from her memory. Such as the deeply shattering event that sent her to the hospital in the first place….” Reading these descriptions was kind of poignant for me; I find holes in my memories all day long while talking with Linda, Lane, Josh, and mom or Jack or Crystal. We went to the grocery store this evening on the way back home, and at one point mom asked me if we should get cereal for Lane and Josh, but I could not answer her question — I simply did not know if either of them ate cereal, or if they did, what kind to get. I was absolutely ashamed of myself — how could I not know what kinds of cereals my own sons would eat, or if they even will eat cereal? How can I look one of my sons in the eye and tell them “I no longer know you!” I was also stunned to have to admit that I did not feel safe driving this afternoon. I was having difficulty concentrating, maintaining my focus of thought; I also had trouble with my vision becoming blurry - especially my right eye. I’m ashamed of myself; I feel somehow emasculated. I am also certain that there were a couple of points during the afternoon when I would have put a gun to my head and pulled the trigger if that had been even remotely possible today. This evening, I scored myself on the Burns Depression Checklist. My score was approximately 57, or in the “Severe Depression” area. It’s safe to say that I am definitely at risk; I am going to have to make a concerted effort to keep tabs on my mental state. I have the tools now, with the techniques I was trained with while in the hospital. I’m forced to wonder if I should not still be in the hospital, and continuing to receive Electro Convulsive Therapy treatments. If I can not shake any of this, I will definitely need to contact Dr. Gumapas. The pharmacist at the “Shop’n Save” grocery store that we stopped at this evening was kind enough to print out some drug profiles for me showing what the side effects are, and I’m listing here the side effects that I have definitely experienced. Those are: headache, nervousness, trouble sleeping, dizziness, lightheadedness, vision changes, mental/mood changes, dry mouth, decreased appetite, blurred vision, double vision, unpleasant taste, restlessness, difficulty concentrating, and agitation. The most annoying during the past few days have been vision changes, dry mouth, difficulty concentrating and agitation. At times, some of these have been downright frightening, and it got distracting and concerning enough that I needed to ask Linda to drive back from town; I was not confident that I would not run the van off the side of the road. The “unpleasant taste” side effect of the Adderol is really noticeable, It made lunch (pizza) unpleasant today, and yesterday even the taste associated with the scent of the sour cream & onion-flavored potato chips was very unpleasant. Also related (I think) is an unpleasant feeling associated with the feeling of running my fingertips through the whiskers of my goatee - it feels almost as though some of my whiskers have been replaced by dried bristles like those found in a scrub-brush. I’m experiencing this whenever I experience the taste. I don’t know what to do about this. How do I explain all of what I am feeling and experiencing to everyone that I’m with? How can I prevent myself from ruining this visit for everyone else? I’m really at a loss.

I have come to the conclusion, since writing that years ago, that much of what I was experiencing was not actually a side effect of the drugs I had been prescribed, but was a result of the ECT treatments. I remember that my doctor telling me several times that the effect of an ECT is akin to surgery of the brain, and I should expect it to affect my memory and my sense experience. I remain convinced, today, that the ECT’s did me more damage than good; many of it’s effects seem to be permanent. From what I have read, I am part of the six percent (do I have that figure right?) or so that do not benefit from ECT’s, and am also part of the small percentage of those that suffer from permanent damage. In spite of this, when my depression swings into the very low points of the cycle, I will sometimes wonder if having more ECT’s would help. But then I remember all that I suffered as a result of those that I had already had, and stop thinking about it. And then too, Linda refuses to allow me to have any further ECT’s, which is just as well.

~ by Thor on December 26, 2007.