61 Treatments. (update: the report I received today said 48 treatments. I'm pretty sure it was 61. I counted 61 day on my calendar. And that was what the therapist said on the last day.)
I lost track on how many of those treatments were dual for anxiety and depression. AKA: Both sides.
I lost track on how many of those treatments were dual for anxiety and depression. AKA: Both sides.
Nearly 11 weeks of going every single day. There were a few weeks of 4 days. And when tapering began it was over the course of 3-4 weeks.
I wish I could sit here and write how much better life is. How much better controlled depression, anxiety, and mental illness is in my life. Reality is...I can't. That hurts my heart more than you can even begin to imagine. I gave it my all. Every single day. I didn't cancel or miss appointments.
If I'm anything, I am brutally honest. And this blog has never been anything but that. I've pretty much told those who don't like that where the door is. You won't find rainbows and unicorns shooting out my ass.
That being said....TMS isn't all it is talked into being. It isn't this one day you wake up and "oh my freaking word the cloud was gone..." No it wasn't like that. It hasn't been like that. Yet, every testimonial I've read has pretty much been JUST THAT. Because those people...the ones who are so much better after 3-4 weeks of treatment...those people...they shoot rainbows out their ass. They eat unicorn poop cookies for lunch. And while I'm extremely happy for them. I want to trip them. I really do. Because they gave me false hope. Almost every single day I sat down in that chair I had high hopes. Really high hopes.
Slow and steady wins the race. I know that. I also know that I've hit a block. A really big block. It isn't going anywhere anytime soon. Despite my attempts to barge over it, under it, through it, or around it. It's there. The elephant in the room.
The hope has slowly faded over the last 2 weeks. The reality that this...this life that I'm living...although a smidge better than it was....it is still pretty damn horrible. There is no amount positive thinking, reiki, tapping, prayer, faith, you name it....none that will change that.
Mental illness sucks.
Trauma sucks.
And I'm tired of fighting it. Fighting the thought that 'it will get better'.
Tired of buying into the thought that 'it will get better'.
I'm not very positive today. You could probably say I"m never positive. And honestly, I don't care. I got out of bed yesterday to go to a massage. And came back home. Went back to bed. I'm writing this from my bed. I'm not working right now. Which it gives for more reason to not get up.
In the last 24 hours depression has hit hard. Honestly, it has been long standing. Yet, the last 24-48 hours has hit hard.
I hope my next post can be a bit brighter. Until then...this is what I've got.
1 comment:
Yes, it does suck. Big time. Still love you, though.
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