I don't know if TMS is making things better or worse. I just need to know if I'm alone in this.

I hate when these start off with “I don’t know where to start”. I hate myself anyway. This is my second round of treatment, and I'm 13 treatments in so far, and I want to quit. I was at 50%, moved to 55% before treatment number 11. I don’t know if that matters. I’m just writing down what I remember. I don’t know how many RXs and RX cocktails I tried before my first treatment. It’s already September. I can’t do this. I won’t make it through winter. RXs... I was on lithium and Xanax during my first session two years ago. I winged myself off shortly after. It’s been difficult, but not like before. A few breakdowns, panic attacks, uncontrollable crying, cutting, anger outburst, maybe it was just as bad as before. But now, I had a friend. He helped me when he could. And I was proud for not taking meds. Stupid.

Last fall, it hit harder. I went back to my psychiatrist. I went mostly out of fear. Seeing shadows, feeling death was gripping my shoulder, weights holding my skin down. Everything was dark. I went back because I wanted someone to know, just in case. I hate trying to describe it. I hate poeple knowing I’m messed up, feeling sorry for me, thinking I’m lying for attention, or worse, trying to fix me.

It got better and I was still here when spring came. But a few months ago, it started getting dark again. Not all at once. I could feel this doom coming, a heaviness I tried to smile away. Sometimes it worked. The psychiatrist prescribed the lithium, I picked it up from the pharmacy, but never opened it, too proud again I guess. So between spravato or another round of TMS, I chose TMS. It had worked before. Some.

The first few sessions left me tired. I planned my sessions to allow for a nap after. Headaches and tiredness, I couldn’t tell any other change. I don’t know when I did notice it. My motor threshold went up, maybe then but I can’t be certain. The sessions were painful now. Beep, exhale, don't bite down, inhale, count, beep, exhale. 20 times. It’s unsettling how many times I lose count. Off by one, okay. But two or more, stupid. The headaches are powerful. I want to rip my skin off and massage my skull. I imagine poking my eyes out. They feel so heavy.

Now, I’m angry. I want to fight. I want to scream. I hit things. I say the most god-awful things. My fingers and feet won’t stays still. Hitting and kicking feel uncontrollable. Everyone in my house is on edge probably wondering what will set me off next. I cause problems. I have no friends. Everything makes me angry. And somewhere inside I know this isn’t me. But that part fades, the little bit of myself. And sadness takes over completely. i hate myself,. I’m embarrassed. I don’t want to be any version of myself. My face is weighted, along with my shoulders and arms and legs. Everything hurts. Everything is sore. I sleep more than I should or not at all. The shadows stay longer. I took my bottles of Xanax out from their hiding places. Speaking is exhausting. Showering is exhausting. It’s dark. It’s getting darker. No hope. No desire to wake up. No desire for anything. I stay up because I’m tired of crying in bed. I hate the time between pillow and sleep. So, I stay awake until I can’t keep my eyes open. I don’t know if I’ll be fighting or dying tomorrow. I hope I don’t wake up. Not death, I’m just tired of having to live. This is the point where all fear and tears are gone. No more fight in me. I wish I had never been born.

It’s stupid to ask if this will pass, if it will get better. I don’t care to find out anymore. I just want all of this to stop. Let the shadows take me away. Please god.