Amanda had treatment 6 today. She did good, and felt good after. One of the traumatic side effects of the ECT is damage to short-term memory. However, I have a plan. The damage done is not to the memories themselves, but the mind’s ability to bridge the gap between cognition and recollection. Every day, I ask her what she did today, and together, we figure out what happened from the moment I left until I got back. I ask her questions, and help her remember. The damage is not permanent, and we will work together to help her get her functionality back.
I did a mile on the elliptical. Never did it all at once before. I used to break it up into half mile sections spaced by an hour or so. But today I needed to step it up. I’m fucking tired of my fatatude. I wish for it to be burned away, and so I will grind all that weight off on that machine. That, and a healthy diet, and I will lose it.
Work has been good. I keep myself busy. My schedule is ideal. I couldn’t ask for more.
I tried a sativa this time. I think I will stick with it as long as my anxiety continues to be high. I’m also enacting boundaries. There will be regulation. For once. And I think I will be much happier this way.