I’ve been trying to find the correct way to explain the changes in my cranium these last few weeks since starting TMS therapy.
So far, I’ve come up rather empty.
I’ll try it this way.
Imagine walking into your bedroom and finding that all of your belongings, furniture, etc. have been moved around. Maybe even a few things, like your worn-to-bits stuffed porcupine have also gone MIA.
You stand there in the middle of the room, befuddled and dumbfounded.
“Where have my stinky old comforter and Sal (the porcupine) gone to?” you wonder.
Yet you can still smell the comforter a bit, small wafts of icky air hit your nostrils every so often.
You can also occasionally hear Sal’s laughter after he rips a nasty fart while you’re trying to sleep.
In this little analogy (I love them) the comforter is depression and Sal is everything else…anxiety, PTSD and OCD
I am disoriented.
I don’t recognize my own mind.
The woman I knew constantly wished that she wasn’t here.
I feel that wave of longing but that’s just what it is; a wave. It’s gone before it even has a chance to become a memory.
I’m going to have to do this in increments because I still haven’t gotten all of this sorted.
Please don’t get me wrong, I am beyond thrilled.
It’s just like, heavy, man.