New brain, who dis?

My latest mood stabilizer is brain therapy, called Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation (TMS)

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On a balmy afternoon during snack time, as I stood next to a bowl of pitted cherries in my kitchen, my friend asked me how my latest treatment has been going. For the past 8+ weeks of this therapy, called Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation (TMS), I’ve been struggling to answer this question.

I am aware most people just want a quick response. Are you feeling better… or not?

But my dance with depression has been so multifaceted, like anyone’s mental illness is, and it felt insincere to say an observation that seems like an artificial sweep of how I felt inside. It’s like trying to identify notes from a cup of coffee or a glass of wine. It’s complex. Often, I can’t put my finger on it — it’s not like a physical wound in which you see the evidence of it healing with your own eyes.

Explaining emotional wounds is different. I’d get flustered on how to explain where I was and where I am now with my moods because it was too complicated, the evidence is hidden inside my head.

So, when my friend asked me this question, I paused. I couldn’t find the right words. Then someone else in the room interjected.

My daughter turned around from her snap peas and ranch dip, and said, “She’s not as sad anymore.”

Suddenly, all that judgment to describe my experience exactly right became irrelevant.

I looked at my 10-year-old and felt a rush thinking of all the years of us living together, and what she’s been witnessing of me through her life, swirl through my chest. All I could say was, “Have you noticed that?”

Duh, of course she can, why was I surprised? It’s been a week since my daughter shared her observation. I sit and wonder what she thinks. She sees me for however much I do and don’t want to be seen by her in my own world, in our own home. We share a home, unfortunately, this is what I think when I’m going through the sludge. I wished she didn’t have to be a constant participant of my erratic mood swings, a majority of them on one low end. I was angry this all cannot be hidden from her. It’s pretty difficult to hide it from someone you live with. I’ve tried it.

And maybe it wasn’t until her comment last week that I could fully grasp how important it has been for her to see it all. Because isn’t that what we want our kids to see? They learn from the hardships. They need to observe the difficult stuff and the work it often takes to pull yourself out because, ultimately, that’s what we want our kids to learn to do for themselves, no matter what sort of hardship they face.

I stopped trying to hide what was going on with me several years ago, when I knew I couldn’t be an imposter in my own home.

The last couple years have been intense, with experimenting with different ways to feel better, with various therapies and medications, and then weaning off medication, and then taking different medication, and then going off of it again. This last medication’s wean wasn’t because it didn’t work for me mentally but because it gave me side effects I could no longer ignore.

When I didn’t know what to do next, I remembered hearing about TMS after two family members had done it.

TMS is a non-invasive brain stimulation technique that uses magnetic pulses to stimulate nerve cells in the brain. It's an FDA-approved therapy to treat depression, particularly when other treatments aren’t effective. Unlike pills to treat moods, this therapy has almost no side effects.

TMS therapy + getting an EEG to track my brain’s progress

The hardest part about TMS is the time.

I initially had to go into the clinic every weekday for 4 weeks straight.¹ Once there, I sat in a comfortable reclined medical chair with a large metal coil placed on my forehead and every 45 seconds the machine stimulated my brain waves as I sat there for 30 minutes. I sat still and chatted with staff.

Altogether, with the guidance of my doctor and evaluations from neuroscientists through EEG brain scans, we decided the most optimal time for me to receive treatment in total was 8 weeks. It was a commitment. For those who work, who live far, who have people they care for, it’s not easy. Showing up every single day to anything isn’t easy.

The science says that TMS helps promote neuroplasticity and the formation of new neural pathways. I believe it.

For several days, especially in the beginning, I was fatigued, sometimes had headaches. Each were temporary for the day and normal, and made sense I felt that way. I like to think those side effects were my brain recovering from a HIIT workout, new strength and muscle built after the discomfort.

With this brain workout, I’ve noticed I am better at bouncing back.

I process new ideas and difficult concepts more easily. I can imagine a future. I’m able to make jokes and take things less seriously. I’m also not so tired. Wow, was I tired before. I’m pretty sure the TMS has helped with that area. It’s a brain boost. I have a new sense of energy.

The true test is bad days. Each time I went into the clinic, my TMS team would ask me to rate my level of anxiety, depression, irritability, pain, and joy. On days when hard stuff was going on in my life, I could decipher the difference between what I felt that moment, which was sadness, and I would be reminded how far down my mind used to take me before getting meaningful help.

Sometimes I don’t enjoy the idea of having an audience in my home.

My family have had to live with my ugliest sides. I’ve been thinking a lot about the idea that my dad, who died years ago, likely went through the inner turmoil I’ve experienced. I’ve been remembering how I grew up watching his erratic mood swings and I used to hate him for it.

But the difference is he came from a different generation and culture where accessing emotions and getting help was just not something he could do.

But I can. And so I am.

My kids have witnessed my actions look similar to my dad’s and it sucks to think about the parallels. But I invite them to see how I am trying to deal and heal.

My kids were constantly asking me what TMS was like and I decided to bring them with me one day. It was my favorite day of treatment.²

They saw me get help.

:)

Thanks for reading.

If you have questions about my experience with TMS, please reach out. I think I have better words to say now.

1. TMS is covered by insurance in the US. As with most things in healthcare, it may be a challenge to get it covered.

2. Thank you to the best TMS team! Dr. Awodele, Olivia, Lani, Mo!