Hopeless, helpless, couldn’t go. Stuck inside. Yesterday panic and anxiety kept me housebound. Supposed to attend a grandnephew’s birthday party. Lot of family there. Lot of fun there. Had been looking forward. But here I was at my desk. The wife was very understanding, went without me. Functioning in the outside world has become difficult for me these past few weeks.
Friday got stuck walking home. Couldn’t go further. Was less than five minutes from the house. Had to take an uber.
Awful feeling.
It’s no life.
Feeling utterly defeated.
Meanwhile I’ve started daily (Monday through Friday) therapy. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap…. Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation (TMS). Six to nine weeks of daily tapping on my brain. At a particular spot. Eighty per cent success rate. (Hope like hell I’m not among the twenty.) It’s for people who, like me, are medication resistant.
Strange first day last week when I was fitted for my "hat" that was marked up to find the correct spot on my brain to target. Comfortable chair. Nice doctor and "technician" attending to me. Much machinery and a computer linked to to the tapping, probing of my brain. A whole new experience. I wear the cap and the obligatory mask and the tapping begins. Every second a metal tap against one spot in my head. At first it seems incredibly annoying and utterly intolerable for more than a minute but one quickly gets used to the rhythm of it and is able to block it out. Half hour of tapping and you're done for the day. Ready to take on whatever life has to offer which for me hasn't been great these past few weeks.
For example there is depression, that voice in your head that tells you awful things. You’re a failure. You’ve nothing to be proud of. It’s all been a mistake. You did it all wrong. A life wasted. No redemption in the future, either. More pain to come. No point in going on.
Depression tells you that misery is your natural state of being. Live with it. Wallow in it. Accept it. There are no alternatives. Never will be. Trying to contradict it is of little use. Depression has a persuasive voice.
But that's not all. There is also anxiety and it's great natural extension, panic.
Panic, that voice that surges through your body telling you that you’ve gone insane. Not safe in the world. No escape, your anxiety has taken over and rendered you immobile and useless. Staring complete madness in the face. Wanting to be tranquilized like a rampaging elephant.
Panic, anxiety and depression can come in one package. A deadly cocktail that makes life seem unlivable. Such cruelty. Cling to keys, to beads, squeeze the stress ball, hold on to one spot that for some reason feels safe. Terrified to move. That's right, terrified.
All this despite a loving family, security and good physical health. Can't imagine without it.
Outside events don’t help. The unavoidable news adds to the awful cocktail. Idiots who won’t — for the greater good — wear masks or get vaccinated. How to process such stupidity among so many? Thus restrictions still apply as the virus lingers dangerously. Climate change, the Earth heating up, no rain in our area, drought, fires, consequent bad air quality. So many stupid voices on the right lying outright, ignoring science, empirical facts, denying the hand in front of their face, spreading hate and intolerance. Even one of my sports teams won’t help, playing abysmally. Where is the succor? Where is the relief? It seems impossibly distant and the depression says that it will never arrive. Never, never never.
But somehow one gets up, showers, eats breakfast and starts to write. Not with any joy or enthusiasm, mind you, but at least the effort is being made. Soon to my tap, tap, tap appointment. Probably four more weeks — at least — before it begins to make a difference.
Might as well be four hundred years.
But I'm here.
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