Hiya, it’s Secret Blog ヘ(^o^ヘ)
The penultimate week… Week #7. I’m feeling a lot about the impending end of this therapy :(
Well, on to it.
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Session #29
“I’m booooored of TMS.”
Today I’m fidgety. I’m trying to mentally fast forward through today’s treatment by zoning out my phone and the old school way (out of focus eyes trained on a fixed point in the middle distance). I always get fidgety when I know an end is coming — I used to peek at recital programs and count how many songs were left, or try to read the pianist’s accompanist score to figure out how close to the finale we were. It’s not that I hated what I was hearing, it’s just that if the end is in sight I have to get it over with. Eventually my eyes refocused, my daze broken only to say “See you next week.”
Side effects:
- That evening I set out to buy some NA beers so I could trick myself into feeling chilled out, but instead went on a very long walk through my neighborhood. I intentionally chose alleys and streets I’d never been down before, lazily making lefts and rights at random. I occasionally stopped and took photos of things that caught my eye, but for the most part I stayed off my phone. I’d deactivated my Instagram account a few nights before and was reveling in the freeness and lack of desire I felt to return. I’d been on and off Instagram pretty consistently since first joining in 2012 (the HAGUE!!! to whoever decided to give this to high schoolers), and save for a 8 month-ish stretch through 2020, I’ve maintained a solid addiction to it. Recently when I’d find myself hitting terminal scrollocity, I’d pause and say: “You’re about to start hurting your feelings pretty hard here.” That often break the spell, and I’d close out the app until compulsion brought me back 10 minutes later. But, after a turbo sesh this weekend (woo! New screen time high score!!), I randomly opened up settings and hit “deactivate.”
I understand why people say “I’d delete if I didn’t use it to keep in contact with people,” or “I use it to find out what’s going on,” but I found that tapping “next”in an idle glaze on stories isn’t “keeping in touch,” and seeing fliers for shows I can’t go to (or, usually, already happened) isn’t “staying in the loop.”
When I was flip phone exclusive I used to text a specific friend of mine to Google things for me. This was equal parts in earnest and to annoy him for personal entertainment. It was nice (for me) — more than anything, I relished in the opportunity to share a search with this friend; “Hey, can you Google ‘how much bleach is an okay amount to drink by accident’?”
I probably won’t bring that back this round — these days I feel like I need (and want) to have access to less information. I just don’t have the bandwidth.
One of the last things I saw on IG was a reel of a therapist (sketchy place for a therapist to be… Front facing cam on reels? Really? I can’t talk, because I was watching said Reel from my laptop using my neighbor’s wifi… Which, grim in its own right) responding to a girl who had expressed how hard it was for her to respond to the mounting texts on her phone. “Nobody in the history of our species has ever had to be as accountable to everyone as they are now. You’re on call 24/7, and it’s weird and wrong.”
I didn’t watch past that, but I understood it deeply in a way I hadn’t really before. Later that night, after getting back from my long walk, I turned my phone off for the night.
✶
Session #30
“Don’t even really feel the zaps anymore? Weird ambient water sound.”
Another TMS I spent reading over writing.
“I’m so jealous of you,” the tech shared when she came to remove the magnet, “You’re always reading something different. I wish I could read like that.”
Over the course of TMS I’ve read 18 new books, finishing 15 of them. I’ve read about the history of the IRA and a proposed hyper rail looping through the Yucatan peninsula. I’ve read about the Earth vanquishing its foes, and its many losses against the away team. I’ve read about women driven temporarily insane by PMDD, and more permanently by watching the closing window of independence that comes with having a family. I’ve read about racism and hom*ophobia and memories of both. I’ve read about time traveling detectives, volcanoes, then gay poets brawling with fists and glasses broken upside the head.
I’ve always found reading to be comfortable, delicious and protective. I’m swaddled in worlds beyond mine that reward me with visions and understanding of places beyond the chair I’m strapped to.
Me: “Do you have a library card?”
Her: “No… That’s a good idea! See you tomorrow!”
Side effects:
- Mild detachment
- Exhaustion
- A slight headache from the zaps that feel a little like the ones I’d get in the first week. Dehydration maybe? Or is my brain closing itself off because it knows its near the end?
✶
Session #31
I sat down and pulled on my cap, perfectly lining up the dots with where they needed to be on the first try — muscle memory at this point. Since I’d missed a session last week we played some schedule Jenga to reschedule. Typically the end half of TMS includes a taper period where you gradually decrease the frequency of sessions, going from daily to three days a week, to twice, to once to none. However two missed sessions and a plane ticket for the day after our original end date limited our choices. Instead of the traditional taper I will do all five days this week, then just three the next. After that I’ll be on my own.
“It’s not super necessary, it’s just to help the brain get used to slowing down, but after a weekend it’ll be fine,” said the tech.
I’m not entirely sure about all that, but then again, she’s the one operating the magnet, not me.
It’s hard to believe I’m almost done.
Last night as I was falling asleep Jacob said to me, “You know, there’s no such thing as stopping. You don’t stop so much as you start something different.”
My eyes were heavy, and I felt the words taking their time to get to the bottom of the well where I’d made camp for the night. I watching them fall like leaves from a tall tree and considered them the entire way down. We debated lightly for a few minutes
“If there’s no stopping, then what is starting? Isn’t starting beginning from an OFF state?” I couldn’t stop picturing booleans — values either TRUE or FALSE, and his argument circled around the ever expansion of the universe.
Eventually, I started sleeping.
Side effects:
- Low level anxiety all day
- After a band practice at our house, Jacob and I had a wild late night pancake endeavor with a friend. We stood around the stove giggling and singing, making and sharing single pancakes at a time before cutting them three ways and covering them in syrup and butter. We dotted the batter with serviceberries — a delicious berry native to Tennessee that we’d just discovered grew in front of our house — and ate like royalty. A grand finale of a pancake, full of berries and covered in caramelized banana, exploded all over our friend.
“I really appreciated the pancakes. Thank you,” he texted us later that night.
“Woo! That was a thrill,” I responded in the morning.
✶
Session #32
“Zaps in the eye, but was distracted.”
I sat there, 300 bolts to my socket, transfixed by the tech’s story about someone who ditched out on their final sessions. I was too enthralled to interrupt her, but a natural pause provided an opportunity for quick readjustment. She moved the magnet around while sharing that this person was seven sessions away from the end — “Right about where you are now!” — and fell off the grid. I wanted to ask why they hadn’t gotten him back into the office, but knew better than that.
Instead, “Is that common?”
“No.”
I didn’t press much.
I’m a little anxious that I’m not totally better, which, you may remember, is a classic TMS feeling. I also think it’s crazy that I’m on the precipice of dealing with the most anxiety inducing area of my life with armor that hasn’t set all the way yet… I’m heading into battle with a popsicle stick helmet… But bigger foes have been destroyed with less. Right? Ha.
Luckily, when I feel that “Oh my god I’m not better” anxiety, I go back and treat myself to some of the most depressing words known to humanity (old journal entries that predate TMS) and see the improvement.
I got home after my appointment and was greeted by the start of my period (maybe the explanation for my increased anxiety and exhaustion???) and let myself sink into the pain. I took a long nap between attempts to read, and thought more about constant accountability.
I tried not to think too much about the roundness of being in numbers that started with 30, and how tangible the countdown has become.
Side effects:
- Any bad feelings are immediately registered as NULL and VOID due to the onset of my period!
- However, against all odds, I did go to the grocery store and made a delicious dinner
✶
Session #33
Lights up on a classic scene: The magnet is tilted ever so slighted forward and sends strange pain rocketing down the hollow of my eye socket for a few moments before the tech fixes it.
I haven’t written much recently and I feel it. There’s a lot of avoidance in my world right now, and I catch myself thinking (incorrectly) that just because I’m doing TMS that habit will go away on its own (booooo, noooo). I’m treading water ahead of this season of change, and just want the ride to start.
I try reading, but I instead shift to writing a list of things I’m excited and grateful for:
Things I’m Excited For In LA
- The beauty of the city
- Seeing an inspirational friend who always changes my life for the better after visits
- Hearing my sister play the viola in her honors recital
- The potential for small steps forward with my family
- The beach, which I haven’t seen up close to a decade (!!!???)
- Museums and art
- In ’N Out and burritos that mean it
Then, later in Montana
- A Coldsmoke at the old Kettlehouse bar
- A sunset walk to Wally & Buck’s
- Painting in the courtyard of the cider house
- Swimming in the river
- And a delicious lack of plans
I usually come to Missoula laden with commitments and run myself ragged.
Over the 12 days of my last visit I: went on an intense work trip, did two nights and four rehearsals for a friend’s play, had band practices / played a wild show AND saw friends. I was exhausted and very much on a single track mindset.
The night of my Boy Feud show (after a day of work and a 2 hour play) I crash landed outside of the venue and saw my bandmate with some friends. I hit them with a quick “Sup,” and he and I got to work (for context, we were playing out of the back of his truck and had to set up our rigs in under 12 min). I was so exhausted, but I ripped one more amazing performance out of myself before collapsing into a thick sleep. The next morning I saw my bandmate and his friend at the cafe where I’d stumbled in, desperate for coffee and food.
“Sorry if I was so short yesterday, I was exhausted,” I said to my bandmate’s friend.
“Yeah,” the friend said breathily, “You were massive bitch.”
That blew though me, and I felt like I was stumbling backwards riddled with bullets. I wanted to cry out, to scream a million justifications; “I was exhausted! I did a play and needed to set up for this show and drove all over town and my boyfriend is with me and everyone needs something from me, and I’m trying to deliver!” Instead, I kept my face neutral and the rest of the conversation washed around me until I respectfully dipped out.
I still feel bad about that exchange, both that that person thought I was being a bitch to them and the casualness with which they shared that with me. We weren’t close by any stretch of the imagination, so I don’t know if I really owed them more than some basic pleasantries the night before, but still.
I don’t want to put myself in that situation again — this time I’m doing less across the board, and looking forward to it. I love to help — to say yes and do my part to make things as amazing as they can be, but it’s not a pattern of behavior that allows me to be my most authentic self. I can’t be happy if I’m not allowing myself to be whole. I spent a lot of my time in MSO filling every second of my time with obligations to run from anxieties, but now… How does that serve me? Or my community? We’ll see — I’m back in that town no fewer than three times a year these days, so I reserve the right to decide to overload myself next trip.
Missoulians in my subscriber list who see this, go on and shoot me a text if you want, but I’m on island time baby. I’ll see you in the streets.
Side effects:
- Slight TMS headache, reminiscent of the first week
- I don’t feel as overwhelmed by other people’s expectations of me. The “oh god they’re mad at me, oh god they hate me,” etc. I imagine this is helped by being rid of Instagram!
*°•★•°∵ ∵°•☆•° . * * * **°•★•°∵ ∵°•☆•° . * * * **°•★•°∵ ∵°•☆•° . * * * **°•★•°∵ ∵
