liking life suicide

Electroconvulsive Therapy Traded My Memories for My Life (and I'd Do It Again)

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The underside of my right forearm burns where the intravenous line is burrowed into my skin. Milky white liquid flows through the tubing into my vein as the nurse anesthetist tells me to take deep breaths from the oxygen mask upon my face.

I feel the adhesive of the electrodes clinging to the skin on my forehead and chest. The ceiling tiles of the procedure room become fuzzy as my field of vision collapses.

I grip the nurse’s hand as the sensation of being at the precipice of a roller coaster turns my stomach upside-down — a dreaded experience for someone prone to motion sickness.

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