I'm back! It's been months since I last blogged and I decided it was high time I got back to it. These past few months have been tough. This year, as a whole, has been the most difficult year of my life.
After much deliberation and discussion, I decided not to continue with ECT treatments and had my last one in July. The cognitive effects and the impact on my memory had become too much for me and the benefits of the treatment no longer outweighed what I felt I was losing. Although I was seeing some positive results from ECT, it became obvious that I would have to have the treatments very frequently to continue to see the level of success that we wanted with the ECT. However, to have the treatments so close together greatly impaired my cognitive functioning and left me not at all myself. We had a very scary situation in May (that I have no recollection of), when I was "not myself", couldn't take care of myself, would only communicate with Kyle by shaking my head, and often could not communicate at all. Brain scans, a spinal tap and many other tests were conducted but none showed a reason for my experience.
I had over 50 ECT treatments. Because of my experience with the side effects of ECT, I wish I had never had it. But if anyone asked me whether he or she should try it, I would encourage that person to carefully research it, weigh the pros and cons, and consult professionals regarding the specific situation he or she has, just as I did. ECT has been very successful for so many people, and my specific reaction to it was not "normal". The doctor that administered my ECT, the anesthesiologist, and the entire staff was phenomenal. They took such good care of me, tried to minimize any discomfort as much as possible, and made me feel like my well-being was their first priority. I couldn't have asked for better care. In my specific situation, it just didn't work out. But it has for so many!
After stopping treatment, I sank into a deep depression for several months and am just now beginning to make my way out of the darkness. And it feels so good to start to see the darkness slowly turn to dawn. As much as I want there to be, there is no single solution for me. I take antidepressants and medications for anxiety. I see my therapist. I have an amazing, supportive husband who loves me the way I am. And I'm finding that walking four times a week for 3 to 4 miles each time is a terrific way to clear my head, breathe fresh air and give me a boost of energy. Next on the list is to address my chaotic eating and set some goals for better nutrition. But taking it one change at a time has proven to be far more achievable for me than trying to do everything and be everything at once.
This has been a year of hope, disappointment, grief, anger, frustration, humility, and so much more. I've lost my identity, and at first that was terrifying, confusing, and discouraging. Re-establishing that seemed a daunting and unachievable task when I was so deeply depressed. Frankly, I didn't care to undertake that task. I just wanted to curl up in a ball forever. But as the fog started to lift, my therapist and I had a discussion about how to look at the situation another way. Perhaps, just perhaps, I could possibly get excited about the chance to "start over". Maybe it is not just time to mourn what I have lost, but also a time to begin to discover what makes me me. How many people get the chance to completely re-evaluate what composes them? I have an opportunity to rethink who I am, what makes me whole, who makes me whole, what I desire, and where I want all of that to take me. Yes, all that is a bit daunting, but it is also a huge gift.
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The day after that conversation that gave me a faint whisper of hope, I was taking a walk and I encountered this perfect little caterpillar. I couldn't help but believe that it was a nudge of encouragement from the Universe acknowledging that, difficult as it might be, undertaking the task at hand would be worth it. A caterpillar holds such promise of beautiful things to come. Maybe my life does, too. 
