So I had an appointment with Wiggers. I was as honest as I could be, but Andrea had emailed him as well, so he pretty much knew what was up. I actually expected him to commit me. I actually hoped he would to be honest. He didn't. I later in read in an email to Andrea that he didn't feel he had enough to commit me. I don't understand what more he needed. Looking back: I hadn't eaten in like 4 days, hadn't had water in like 5, was extremely suicidal. What more did I need to be doing? I'm actually concerned that if I ever get that way again that I won't go see wiggers because he wont be able to do anything. If he can't make me go to the hospital when I'm as bad as I was, what can he do? All he did was put me on another medication, Prozac, and recommend ECT again. At first I refused ECT, then later in the day I sent him an email saying I'd do it. He got me an appointment for the next day.
I really didn't/don't want to do ECT. I lost a lot of memories, both from before and during my last treatments, and I'm even finding I'm having a difficult time holding onto some memories since my last sessions ended. Plus, I'm not really sure it helped all that much. But then again, I can't remember. Andrea tells me it did help until I out smarted it. So I went again. I was terrified. I don't know, I just really don't like the idea of exposing my brain to multiple seizures. No one really knows why it works, sure they have theories, but no one knows. I woke up from the anesthesia and was so confused. I couldn't remember where I was or what was going on. Of course I played like I did, because they always expect me to wake up coherent and everything. I laid there for a while and then Lisa walked me out to Andrea's waiting dad (whose house I was staying at). The anxiety started nearly instantly. I was afraid of the dark, afraid of being by myself, definitely afraid of sleeping by myself in a bed that wasn't my own. It was awful. There were times I could hardly breathe I was so scared. It wasn't anything Andrea's dad was doing or not doing, it just felt that awful. I felt that out of control. I eventually went to bed that night with the light on in the bedroom. I was terrified, I woke up every hour - and I know it was every hour because I checked the clock every time I woke up praying it was almost over.
I'm supposed to do it twice a week. Andrea is supportive of me having more ECT but because I outsmarted it last time she only wants me to have it once a week. I'm fine with that, it's less. I hate this. I don't want to go back. I don't want to do it again. I just don't want to.
I won't deny that I am feeling better than I was. But honestly, that could be the fear from having to go through this all again. Adrenalin and what not has been known to lift me out of a depression, until it passes. I'm concerned I'm feeling better just because I don't want to get it done again, and I'm scared, not because anything has really changed.
I mean, if I think about it, which I really try not to do, all the 'reasons' I was depressed before are still there, blatantly obvious - and I feel no different about them. I still feel as hopeless for my own future as I did before. Still don't feel like a good parent - at all. Still don't have a job and thus am not contributing to my family in any meaningful way. Life is still as bleak as it was. I guess the difference is that I don't feel suicidal - yet. I still don't really see the purpose of living the life I am living, but I guess I am willing to wait around for changes - maybe that's the difference. I don't know.
This is the final chance though. There is nothing after ECT. Wiggers obviously has no real control. I clearly don't have any control or much say over my own life, and what else is there to try? Maybe I should keep doing this ECT thing then. Keep killing those brain cells. Maybe I'll get so stupid I'll just stop having feelings altogether.