Wednesdays are difficult for me. I stay over the night before in MA and then head off bright and early to see my psychiatrist for a double session. After that, I hit the road and head back to CT to go to work. I work until 5 PM and then have to pick up my daughter and endure the evening ordeal that all parents deal with each evening: the dinner debacle. I go through my day emotionally exhausted and in somewhat of a fog. I go over the session in my head and try to come to some understanding of what was discussed. What happens in the hour and a half can be described as difficult, hard, hurtful, sad, happy, pleasing, painful, settling...you get the picture. It is truly an array of feelings. It is the most difficult hour and a half of my week and I would not change that for anything. The work that is done there is helping me in ways I can't even describe.
The truth is...I still feel depressed sometimes. I didn't just have ECT and wake up all better. That's not how it works. The combination of the ECT, medication and therapy have pulled me out, but it is a process. During the past week all I have thought is how happy I am to go for my monthly maintenance ECT this Friday. I feel like I need it. This past week I have felt a bit off...a bit flat. The feeling is familiar and is one I am not happy about. Although my psychiatrist is increasing one of my medications, I am hopeful that I will feel a bit better after Friday's treatment.
I had such a tremendous change in mood shortly after my hospitalization and since then that has remained steady. This past week serves as a reminder that recovering from depression is truly a process that takes time. It does not simply go away; it is a process and I am still in it, working harder than I have ever worked on anything in my entire life.