I haven't complained much about any of the downsides of ECT because, frankly, it's saving my life. Maybe that sounds overly dramatic to say, but when I think about the depression I had sunk into in late January, and the desperation I was feeling by the time I checked into the hospital then, saying ECT is life-saving is a fair assessment. Those who know me best all agree that I look and sound better than I have in months if not years. ECT is doing for me what a variety of other treatments could not.
It does have its drawbacks, though, and try as I might to overlook them or to focus on the many benefits I'm getting out of ECT instead of the difficulties, sometimes I get discouraged and I feel aggravated, annoyed and saddened by the inconveniences, the challenges, the hardships, and the aspects of my life that it makes harder at the same time that it's saving it.
One of the hardest aspects lately is that I don't feel like myself and I keep wondering where my sense of self went. A big part of this is because my memory is so deeply affected by ECT. Not long term, deeply planted memories, but shorter term stuff. I remember my wedding day, or more importantly who my husband is. I remember the education I received in college (both undergrad and graduate level). I know how to find my way to my house. But a great deal of memories are completely obliterated, and many more are sliding away quickly. I have no recollection of seeing the Grand Canyon, though I remember being in the helicopter above it. Sometimes I can't think about how to get somewhere; for example, from my house to Walmart or from my house to a Dr.'s office and I have to Google directions. Numbers that I used to easily dial from memory on my phone now have to be looked up. Sometimes a name sounds familiar but I can't remember my connection to it. Dinner last night? No idea. Have I eaten at that restaurant before? I may or may not remember, even if it was yesterday. I have forgotten many of the movies I've seen either just once or even several times. This isn't necessarily bad because we just watch them again, but it's just a little unsettling to know I watched Skyfall at the theater less than four months ago and I don't remember a moment of it when rewatching it this week.
I've lost interest in doing much of the many activities I used to enjoy including scrapbooking, taking photos, journaling, cleaning (yes, cleaning!), organizing, household projects, shopping, reading and writing. I still do some of these activities to some degree, but I don't get the enjoyment out of them that I used to. Part of the lack of enjoyment comes from the fact that it's harder for me to do them. Whereas once they came to me so naturally that they just seemed to occur, their completion now requires a great deal of effort on my part. Also, as odd as this might sound, sometimes I feel like I just don't know how to do some of the tasks required to complete these activities. ECT brings with it cognitive difficulties, and so I've forgotten the necessary steps to do some of these small tasks and then I get frustrated and I give up on doing them at all because I feel like a failure or I feel like I won't do them right or can't do them right.
Something that goes along with this is that I can't remember where I put or how I organized a great deal of the household and I get frustrated trying to remember where things are. Also, when I was in the hospital for two weeks, and as I've been recovering over the following few months, Kyle has stepped in and done many of the tasks and chores that I used to do. He naturally does them differently than me, stores items differently than me, and places household items in different locations than me, so sometimes even if I remember where I used to put it, it might not be there when I look.
Whereas I used to have a pretty strong sense of "this is who I am", lately I struggle with this. I try to keep a positive outlook and remember that this is an opportunity I get to redefine myself, rather than a negative. But it's a little scary, a bit daunting, and a lot lonely. I remember thinking to myself last week that I was watching an unhealthy amount of NCIS on DVD. But when I thought about why I might be doing so, it actually made sense to me. The old Roxann rarely watched TV, especially in the daytime. She'd be blogging or journaling or looking through magazines, scrapbooking, finding a new project around the house, etc. But the right-now-Roxann didn't want to do any of those things, and the only sense of familiarity was that of the characters and the storylines of the NCIS episodes. I know the characters inside and out. I've seen all the episodes at least once, some 2 or 3 or 4 times. So NCIS was very comforting when so many other aspects of my life have become unfamiliar, foreign or sometimes even a sad reminder of what used to be but is no longer.
Even these small realizations about myself help me figure out who I am right now, and where I might be going or should be going. It's probably not something I'm going to figure out this week or even this month, and it's something that is probably going to be in flux for awhile. I drive myself a little crazy with it because I'm a person that likes a place for everything and everything in its place. I want to know what my place in the world is so I can be working towards that.
But for now, perhaps my place is just to get well.
Then there will be loads of potential for a new place to develop.
