Hi, welcome back to Secret Blog ᕙ(‾̀◡‾́)ᕗ
Today, Week #5 of my Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation, aka “TMS!” I’m nearing the finish line!!
Sorry for being so late, I got a little sick and then fell off my weekly habit… But what matters is I’m back! Woo!
*°•★•°∵ ∵°•☆•° . * * * *
Session #20
“Fucking ouch. Fixed.”
By the time Monday rolled around I was ready to get back to my beloved zaps, and right off the jump, I was greeted by shooting, sparkling pain. A quick adjustment — pulling the head of the magnet up away from my eye — fixed it quickly.
I’ve noticed a huge change — a different feeling from Week #1’s “thank god I’m taking the steps to get here, oh my god this is going to totally just fix my whole shit, and frankly… already is” — this was a sense of even happiness. I feel like I glow with potential — I’m more creative and mellow, but now I swing first. I think about my future with excitement.
It had been pouring the thick, curtainy rain of late spring on and off all day, a heather and emerald comforter backdrop outside my window while I hunched over my desk chipping away at work. I stepped away from the computer with swirly eyes, and decided to go get a new deskpad (I’d just used the last page of my current one) from the paper shop as a way to get out of the house. I stood on my porch, car keys in hand, before deciding to bike again. I needed activity, exhaustion and the pumping heart rate of a brisk ride. I greeted the familiar feeling of nervousness (“What if you get dirty!” “What if there’s a lot of cars on the road!”), then put on my helmet and cruised there. I rolled up to the shop panting — I’m a bit out of biking shape and East Nashville is extremely hilly — but with swirling and perked-up calves. On my way back, about halfway into the ride, rain started pouring through a leak in the sunny sky. At a red light I turned my face with eyes closed to the sun and basked in the feeling, pinpricks of cool on my warm cheeks. I noticed I was smiling.
Later, friends came over and had a mini dance lesson in my living room. I’d usually hide from these kinds of things — out of embarrassment or some sick kind of self sabotage — but instead I joined without much thought. We spun each other around laughing under the amber light.
Side effects:
- I feel a warm glow inside me that isn’t mania… Instead of frenetic perpetual motion I feel like something heavy and dark has been lifted off my eyes and heart
- I painted for hours
- Overall felt more social
✶
Session #21
“Zaps started totally fine.”
The night before I’d decided to get up early and work on personal projects before the workday kicked off, and (alert the presses) I got up before my alarm without issue or desire to stay in bed. Whoa! I had back to back meetings scheduled all day post-TMS, and after days like these I’m usually too tired or brain fried to do anything meaningful when I’m done for the day. I got to the coffee shop and sat at the table, writing deeply for a long while… So long the bagel stand I’d been using as the carrot before my cart sold out of bagels.
After packing up I walked up to some acquaintances who were camped out front and talked to them for a bit on my way out, a skill I’d let atrophy over the last few years. I never really liked approaching people, especially not people who I deemed “cooler” or more successful than me. In that instant, all that mattered was the spark of connection, laughter and pleasantries we shared.
I went to my appointment feeling satisfied with myself — I’d done some great work at the coffee shop, but I was mostly pleased with the followthrough. I set the goal to get up early and come to the cafe to work, and did.
Side effects:
- Carrying out what I said I would
- Less decision paralysis all day
- Slight insomnia at night, but likely due to increased caffeine throughout the day
✶
Session #22
“Fine zaps, felt nervous about pain.”
During TMS I usually read (I’m trying to read 100 books this year and I ……….. will share where I’m at with that later lol) or draw, but today I just texted for the 19.5 minutes of my treatment.
I’m nervous about the numerous loose ends of my upcoming trip and the gauntlet of work, but it’s fine. I can see how stress affects my body, and where it sits. Instead of stress feeling like an incomprehensible reaction, I can see where it comes from and where it lingers. I had an amazing coffee + creative session again before today’s appointment, and felt the flying freedom of play through painting... It’s easier and easier to capture that feeling these days.
Side effects:
- Today was supposed to be a super stormy day which normally sends me into a tizzy. I grew up in a leafy parking lot on the fringes of the LA sprawl, so “tornados”…? Not part of my vocabulary.
In 2020 I experienced my first tornado, a hulking beast two-thirds of a mile wide that ripped through Nashville and killed 25 people in the middle of the night. I’ll never forget it — my windows were a wash of black clouds with blue, purple and green lightning flashing in the distance (I’d later learn the “blue lightning” was power transformers exploding as the tornado pulled them out of the ground). Trees would reach unnaturally like broken hands through the wall of clouds, frozen, before snapping back into the nothingness. I couldn’t hear the thunder over the sound of the wind, which I couldn’t really hear over the sound of the rain. My whole house groaned, begging to stay attached to the Earth. Eventually the storm weakened, passed, and we fell into a rough and restless sleep.
Since then I’ve eyed a grey sky with wariness. I’ve gotten quick at packing my “next life” bag (the bag of items — my binder of life documents, laptops, socks, etc — that in worst case scenario, become one’s sole possessions), and make sure my helmet is nearby when storms pick up. Usually I’m incredibly anxious on storm days since the randomness of tornados is difficult to predict, but today I… Wasn’t. Sure, I was a little nervous and had my stuff packed up just-in-case, but instead of refreshing feeds and pacing around the house, I painted and went about my day. I was calm, levelheaded, and the storm never really strengthened in my area. Phew!
- I have written in my notebook: “I feel happy.”
✶
Session #23
“Starting to feel sad about the end of TMS.”
After dinner the night before I was absolutely humbled by a bout of food poisoning. I struggled to take my morning medication before dragging myself to TMS, crash landing in the waiting room. I shivered slightly in that mooooom-I-don’t-feel-good way, and distracted myself by focusing on the white noise being pumped into the room. I feel like I’d never noticed it before, I’m very much the “keep your eyes down to the ground until you name is called” waiting room type.
My eyes were dry from the lack of sleep and my overall bad-shape, and I found myself closing my eyes between each of the sequences, resting them briefly before flinging them open at the starting gun BEEPBEEPBEEP.
Later, after a small cup of chicken broth, I weighed my options for dealing with a commitment I’d agreed to a week ago. I didn’t want to go for a long list of reasons, but I felt bad bailing moments before the show. I stalled, stalled, stalled before eventually leaping up and going. I drove downtown in a flurry and walked in 5 minutes after the show had begun. Did I regret it? Not really. I wanted to prove to myself that if I had a crumb of desire to go out and see art, I should follow that. I’ve spent a lot of my time in Nashville wishing to be whisked away by beautiful art, and my success rate of finding that stuff by staying home was pretty low. Was I happy to return to my warm tea and bed? Absolutely.
Side effects:
- Slight headache, but was probably due to my dehydration
- Less social anxiety! Woo!
✶
Session #24
“Forgot book, noooooooo.”
After a morning spent painting at the coffee shop (where, side note, I watched a girl take a bunch of “worklife!!” selfies before taking a photo of ME painting… Girl leave me out of this, I beg of you) I settled back into the chair. The zaps started without issue, and I chatted with the tech before lazily doodling in my notebook. I felt bored without my novel and couldn’t really focus on anything other than an insurance betrayal that had just landed in my inbox that morning. Insurance is one of those areas that I literally cannot figure out, never seems to work right, and provides no sense of relief to me. I’d had a mild anxiety shut down, and I was still recovering from my stomach episode, but I pressed on, swearing to deal with it later.
"I’m flying through TMS,” I’d written in my notebook. I wonder what my days are going to feel like without this tradition? I’ve come to feel a little dependent on the structure and the concrete “I’m doing something that will help my depression.”
Well, nowhere to go but forward.
(¤﹏¤) *°•★•°∵ ∵°•☆•° . * * * * (▰˘◡˘▰)
The next post in this series can be found here.