I have no memory.
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When I was in my 20s (I'm 37 now), my bipolar depression got so severe that the docs decided it was time to try ECT, Electroconvulsive Therapy. In the old days, they called it “shock therapy”. The premise is sound: if you cause a 10-60 second seizure in the brain, in at least 10 consecutive treatments, certain biochemicals “right” themselves and those suffering from extreme depression feel better. There is still a cloud of mystery surrounding why the treatment works, but I was willing to try anything.
Memories are maybe our most precious commodity. And I mean that they are a one-time deal; once we lose them we cannot get them back. That is the worst part about memories. But they also ground us, they give us direction by showing us where we have been, they allow us to hold on to things, search for things, identify with things, and desire for things.
And when they go missing, it can be really debilitating.