I tried to fix my mother up with a man (patient) whose pants kept falling off. Then I gave him a pair of my sweatpants. My mother was not amused, although the rest of my family thinks it's hilarious.

My aunt brought me some kitchen towels and placemats with kittens on them. I thought they were cute and thanked her. This is now a joke, although it's more tragic than funny, IMO. Each day, I would see the items and say, "Oh, aren't those cute. Where did they come from?" My mother or aunt would tell me my aunt brought them. That was a daily event, and continued for weeks after I was home. For weeks, I would ask, "Oh, aren't those cute. Where did they come from?" when I saw them on the table.

The worst of all is that I apparently gave my phone number to several patients. One was a drug dealer, and he called me several times, saying I had given him my number in hospital, trying to set up drug deals...that I wanted to buy crack. I've never used crack in my life. I admit that I occasionally indulge in a toke or two of pot, but I certainly would never attempt to buy it from someone I didn't know.

I would get calls from men, saying I had consented to go on dates with them, and got one from a fellow who said I told him he could move in with me. I have no idea who these people were, except that I'd given my number to them in the hospital. (My number was unlisted.) From the conversations, I don't think I ever met any of them outside the hospital. I sure hope not.

Those calls continued until the day I moved to a new town. I've since heard from several ECT patients who have done similar things.

The spring before ECT, I had taken (apparently) a few trips to New York City, to see my then-boyfriend. He and I are still friends and talk by phone occasionally. I have absolutely no memory of those trips, although from the smiles on my face in pictures, I apparently had a wonderful time. The only proof I have of those trips is plane ticket stubs, photos and conversations with the gentleman. He and I have talked many times, and I have to fake it, pretending I remember what he's talking about. (He didn't know I had ECT...he was - very smartly - against it.)

Recently, I talked to him, and he asked me about something I'd apparently purchased on one of my NY trips . To this minute, I'm confused about it. I can't find the item, and have no memory of ever having it. I still have some boxes at my aunt's house, so perhaps it's there. But it's so bothersome to know that I have no memory of ever having bought or owned it.

I've lost about two years of my life from memory loss...approx. a year and a half before the ECT, and about 8 months following. It's just gone. The ECT industry says that I'm mistaken. Some say I'm a Scientologist, as if my religious belief would cause me to misunderstand what happened to me. I am offended by that, and I am offended that I continually have to publicly proclaim what my religious beliefs are.

The memory loss is heartbreaking because I should have some wonderful memories of my NY trips. And I'm sure there are many other good times in there. But I don't remember them.

What hurts the most is the scorn I receive from the ECT industry, from the doctors who make their living by this, from NAMI, and from the APA. They simply dismiss my complaints, as they deny the memory loss of so many others. It's bad enough to have the loss, but then to be told I'm lying, or over exaggerating, or misunderstanding - it's horrible. They just say it didn't happen.

Or that I'm a Scientologist.

But it did happen. I live it every day. And I'm a Presbyterian.

Let me again be very clear. I am pro-choice on all things, and that extends to ECT. I absolutely support the right of anyone who chooses ECT...or chooses something else.

Had I been told honestly that I might lose a portion of my memory, and that I might suffer permanent cognitive damage, I would not be angry as I am today. It would not have been so devastating to me. I would have made a more informed decision.

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ECT survivor

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