The Mechanism of the Action Remains Elusive

I have finished up after 6 sessions of bilateral electroconvulsive therapy (ECT) and undoubtedly the desired effect of a dramatic improvement in my mood has been achieved.

Despite still grappling with a definite sense that I'm stupider than I was a month ago, a shonky memory and an unusual amount of apathy, I feel a little bit like a bucket of sunshine! Skeptics of this treatment would attribute this to the brain damage caused by the induced tonic-clonic seizures. Skeptics are well within their rights to be skeptical (besides the causal link between skepticism that leads them to being named skeptics) as while there seems to be evidence that the desired outcome of mood improvement can be achieved through ECT, it's not exactly known how this is achieved, so yes, it could be achieved through causing brain damage.

The most interesting phrase I stumbled across when researching ECT is 'the mechanism of the action remains elusive'. The writer in me adores this phrase and is inclined to attribute an almost mystic quality to ECT by virtue of the amount of inherent faith that goes into this line of treatment. The patient in me screams "seriously WTF! You're putting me under general anesthetic and sticking electrodes in my head because it seems to kinda work for some reason you're not quite sure of!?"

If I told you I was going to indulge in some faith based healing as the first line of treatment for another life threatening illness, you would undoubtedly be relieved that I'm locked up in a psychiatric hospital. And yet this is seen as a most legitimate form of treatment. Oh well, it seems to have worked (see, there's that apathy!)

I guess though there's no real way of knowing what has changed my mood. It could have been the elusive mechanism of the action or it could have been taking me off the seven mind altering medications I was on or it could have just been that the time for that mood was up and it was moving on anyway and I'd be a little bucket of sunshine right now, fried brain or not.

Oh yeah, I should have mentioned that they took me off all my medication. I had one of the worst days of my life withdrawing from the Cymbalta. Luckily my shonky memory has blocked out most of it, but what I do remember is crouching in the smoking courtyard, howling in physical and psychic pain. But Miss Bucket O'Sunshine doesn't want to talk about that! Instead I'll tell you how lovely it is to not wobble and shake like I did for all those months I was dosed up to the eyeballs. I've been started on one new medication, Abilify (isn't that the sexiest name for an antipsychotic???) and I'm back on the Lithium slow release to try to keep my mood stable.

I'm being let out on Saturday and while part of me is ecstatic (little bucket of sunshine) there is a part of me that is scared that I'm somehow going to fuck things up and wind up back in hospital again within the next few months (little half-empty bucket of sunshine). Sometimes the apathy chases the fear away and I'm glad, but sometimes I wish it wouldn't. I know I'm only dreaming when I pretend I have much control over my illness and that holding on to that fear could influence anything, but when I'm feeling positive like this it's nice to be able to pretend that my mood is something I helped create and I do have control of and I can hold onto.
May the sun shine a little bit longer.