Forget It.
Every day I am more and more aware of just how much electroconvulsive therapy took from me.
Beyond remembering my own personal endeavors, It took the memory of every birthday my child had, his first days of schools, our vacations, our lazy Sundays, it took all of it.
All parents forget things that happen as their children grow, in fact I imagine they forget more than they remember, but then they are reminded and often say “Oh yeah, I forgot that.”
But my memory, much like my body, is completely resistant to jogging. The memories are simply not there anymore.
And, you know what, it was still worth it and that’s even counting the fact that the relief ECT gave me is long gone, and that ECT stopped being an effective treatment for me, and that I am currently still struggling with this disease.
Parenting involves lots of trade-offs, sometimes parents work more hours than they would like to so they can afford things for their children, or (gasp) because they enjoy what they do and want their children to see that their parents have a fulfilling life.
My trade-off has been losing most of my memories I’ve made with my son in order to remain alive to make more. Deal.
