#Electro-Convulsive Therapy

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

Cancer  - Electro-Convulsive Therapy

[radiomuseum]

Wearing a fun outfit today!!

I hope everyone reading this is doing well today!

[6ebe]

big pharma antidepressant marketing goes crazy the amount of times I see people on here happily accepting MONTHS of feeling ill every day on a drug bc ‘your body will get used to it one day’ like girl YOU ARE PAYING THEY WANT YOU TO GIVE THE DRUG MORE TIME BC YOU ARE PAYING 😭😭

[sansxfuckyou]

Like old times

Summary: This entire setting is new to him, the lights, the walls, the chair, but one thing remains the same- the electricity.

Warnings: Torture, electrocution, shock collars, tasers, past torture, trauma, bad ending, check tags for further warnings.

Authors Note: So the taser torture scene tickled my inner phans fancy and I wrote this, I don't even really know what the fuck the setting is I just know that we have torture, that's literally it, anyways, a reblog would be nice if you read it! I'm not quite sure how receptive this fandom is too gore/torture/vivsection and the likes, so I guess that's what I'm finding out tonight

Jounouchi found himself paralyzed at the sight before him, at the simple accessory on the table.

A shock collar.

A strip of leather with two metal tongs attached to it, made for bulldogs. It could kill him if the power was on long enough, and he only knows that due to personal experience.

"Do it again," Hirutani ordered.

"Are ya sure?" Hesitance was on their voice.

"I said do it again," Hirutani throws a glare in their direction.

Prongs pressed to his throat, agony shot through him alongside the heady amounts of voltage. He screamed, he screamed until it was over, his wrists burned as they rubbed against the twine. He opened his eyes again as the taser is pulled back and he sees them smirking at him as they turn it up.

He clenches his eyes shut as a pair of gloved hands lift it up and bring it to his neck. He forces his breathing steady even as the cold metal nestles against his arteries. He couldn't catch what kind of metal, if whatever he was dealing with knew anything it would be copper, strongest conductor.

"Please hold still Katsuya, this is just to keep you in order," They spoke, tone cold, Jounouchi nodded.

"I know," He took shaky breaths, grounding his feet against the floor a bit more.

They gave a hum, hand resting on a button, "Refrain from making any sound."

Rain, it was cold and wet, it made the chafe on his wrists worse with the terrible sensation. His breathing was uneven, that was what he was focusing on the most over anything. Again, the taser to his throat, the electricity jumped through the dampness of his clothing, seeping into every inch of him. He screamed again, as much as his body let him muster with everything else.

"Anything to say yet?" Hirutani asked, nudging aside his croney and grabbing Jounouchis throat.

He mustered a weak smirk, "I've said all I need," His voice is weak, and for a second the grip on his throat tightens.

"He'll break soon enough," Hirutani said, shoving back Jounouchi, he stumbled as he regained his footing in the limited movement, "Keep it up."

He shook as the words left his mouth, he answered every question perfectly. His words only stuttered once or twice, to the point the doctor took their hand off the button entirely.

"How come you came here?" They asked.

"What kind of question is that?" Jounouchi asked, he instantly regretted the words as the button was pressed on. Hundreds of watts coursed through him, he screamed as his hands shot up to his throat.

Again.

He kept screaming, thrashing in the seat he was tied too.

And again.

Jounouchi bit his tongue until it bled to stop himself from crying out, the tears still rolled. He looked up desperately at the doctor who retracted their hand from the button.

"I insist you refrain from screaming, it only makes this harder for the both of us," The doctor said, Jounouchi nodded, "Now, how come you came here?"

Jounouchi took a deep breath, recounting the events, "I was captured, detained, and then I woke up here strapped to a chair," The doctors hand returned to the button, "Everything else is blurry, aside from the fact that this electrocution stuff isn't new-"

The button was pressed again, he bit his cheek until he was sure the inside of it tore. He stifled screams to the best of his ability despite how much he wants too, at least he could still see straight.

"Do you know why we brought you here?" The doctor asked.

Jounouchi shook his head, "No."

"Because you have potential, all it requires is someone willing to drag it out," Their hand hovered to the button again, "Your one flaw is that you're full of them, this button can fix all of them in moderation."

He isn't moving anymore, he's only upright because of the pressure on his wrists. He can't force his knees straight, they just fold in on themselves again. His breathing, is he even breathing anymore? And his pulse, he seems to have misplaced in the midst of all the stress on his body. All he can do is hang his head in defeat, eyes glazed, he can't even meet Hirutanis gaze.

"Hey Hirutani he can't even talk anymore, he's just twitching now," Hirutani doesn't listen, he only stares harder at Jounouchi.

"Do it," It's an order and it barely registers in Jounouchis head.

"But if we keep going he'll die," They say quietly, hesitance clear as they hold up the taser.

"Do it," Venom is all that registers in Jounouchis head, the vitriolic hatred. He tries to focus on the prongs inching ever closer to him to deal the final blow but he can't and his eyes fall shut.

"Don't do this to me," Jounouchi is pleading, he's begging, again, a shock from his throat to his core. He cries out in agony, "Please make it stop!"

"Flaw number one," The doctor said, "Lack of stamina."

They press it again and watch as Jounouchi writhes in his seat, trying not to make a sound. He fails, stifled sobs tear through him

"Flaw number two," They speak again, "Inability to face your fears."

The button is held down this time and Jounouch is screaming, hot tears rolling down his face as he tries to pull off the collar. Restraints shoot out to grab his wrists and secure them to the armrests of the chair, smaller prongs on the leather.

"Flaw number three," They stand up, carrying a small remote, "Easy to panic."

The button is pressed again, Jounouchi screams once more, vision starting to blur. His skin tingles near the prongs, the muscles in his hands seize entirely. He sobs between screams and heavy breathing, he lets his head rest at a leaned angle.

"Flaw number four," They grip his hair and yank him back up, "Although minute, bad manners in the presence of someone else."

Gloved hands stay put in his hair as the button is pressed down on once more. It's like his screams fall on deaf ears, like his tears don't exist, like his agony is irrelevant. Here it comes, the disorientation, he remembers it vividly despite how blurry the entire taser ordeal was. He hates this part the most, how it meant he was so close to death, how much it felt like he was breathing his last breath every time he breathed.

"Please," He's begging, trying so hard to get it out on a raw voice despite the slight twitching. His ability to speak is gonna go in a couple more buzzes, "You'll kill me before you get what you want."

"And lastly, flaw number five," They release Jounouchis hair as they speak, "You beg too much to win anything."

They turn away to leave Jounouchi alone, the button remains on the table, a remote in their hand. The door opens and closes near silently, the lights dim down as if to accommodate for how blown open his pupils are.

His breathing staggers, his heartbeat is palpitating, skipping beats here and there. He wants to bring a hand up to clutch his chest or his neck but the restraints on his wrists remain. All that's left to do is scream out for help or just accept it- and he doesn't exactly want to die to a collar made for dogs if he does scream. So he stays silent, biting his tongue and just letting the situation wash over him even though he wants to wake up any second now and act like this isn't real.

He's heard that trauma dreams can be really fucked up, he wouldn't put it past his brain to concoct this scenario for some reason. But at the same time, pain has never hurt so much in any of his dreams before, it's only been a mild sting if at all. He tries to still the shaking in his form, the static on his clothing, anything to keep himself from just sobbing.

He wants to wake up but he can't and if he could he isn't sure if he would be able to.

[director-extraordinare]

wtf did they do to you at conversion therapy

iidsk i dsont remeber mcush excpert the voemmittinag and eths shcosks

[schizopositivity]

I just found out today that if you want to donate to BioLife, they ask if you have schizophrenia/psychosis, and if you do then you need to get your doctors approval before you can donate, and you'll need that approval annually to be able to continue.

I'm thinking now that I could've just not given that information, but they need to see what medication I take and that would've given it away.

After I said I have schizophrenia, they asked if I've ever had electro convulsive therapy and if I have a legal guardian. The nurse said "sorry I have to ask that".

They didn't give me an explanation for this at all. My schizophrenia is the only reason I couldn't donate today. All other health questions related to illnesses or actions that could affect your blood. I don't know why I need my doctor's approval to donate plasma, simply because I have schizophrenia. If anyone knows why (besides stigma and sanism) please let me know.

[roach-master]

my personal theory about Vox’s death

cw: discussion of mental illness, transphobia/homophobia, typical 1950s shit

also i am very tired rn so this might be confusing as hell xD

So Vox died aged 30-40s, during the 1950s. I’m going to start this off by saying that if Vox was a fit young man in those times, he likely would have been drafted into WW2. Now you could say he died then, but the war ended in 1945.

So my first assumption is he was deemed unfit (due to mental illness or the fact that he is bisexual), or he is a transgender man (that’s mostly me projecting, though).

For the sake of this I’m just gonna say it went both ways.

I think during life vox was a television broadcaster of some sort. Since WW2 opened up opportunities for more genders to work, he could still have been quite famous.

However, he was also greedy, selfish, a huge attention seeker, and overall pretty unhinged. He might have gone and tried to kill someone who he saw as a rival. And that, along with how queer people were treated, could have easily gotten him thrown into a mental institution.

Now, asylums in the 1950s were absolutely awful. They were overcrowded, the patients were experimented on, etc. just generally NOT where you wanted to be back then.

They used (and still use, although it’s much safer now) a treatment called electro convulsive therapy (ECT). During these times though, they were unmodified, which is now considered unethical. Now, ECT is a treatment that involves essentially shocking the brain, forcing a seizure. My theory is he died from that, and thus ended up in Hell.

I think this would explain his general paranoia, and need to keep his true, more evil personality secret. He clearly tries to appeal to the public as much as possible and fears imperfection. He doesn’t show his true side, not even to his apparently closest friends. He’s scared of being seen as crazy.

Vox is incredibly smart. He knows that nobody in Hell is a good person (Fuck, he would probably use that as an excuse on why he doesn’t need to genuinely change. He’s still evil, after all.) but he’s terrified of what might happen if he doesn’t present himself as perfect. People might reject him, and of course he doesn’t want that. He craves attention, his worst fear is being worthless, irrelevant, and tossed away like nothing. Just like he was before he died.

But that’s just a theory. A VOX THEORY (im sorry)

[cult-of-the-eye]

if you are like me and have left science far behind and tmagp 22 has made little to no sense, look no further for here is an attempt to provide explanations within the episode:

Dura mater - a layer of the brain that allows cerebrospinal fluid to re-enter circulation (basically you know how the guy gushed spinal fluid out of his head after his seizure, it may have been because they were tampering with this part of the brain)

Electric stimulation sessions - basically a version of ECT (electro-convulsive therapy), where you're given electric shocks, historically used to treat schizophrenia

That might explain the seizure at first, because they're basically trying to induce mini seizures but then it obviously doesn't explain the clicks - the mixture of scientific logic and inexplicable phenomena strikes again!

The scientist dude seems like he's trying to mess with the brain and see the effect on personality and sense of self

It is incredibly important to get consent for scientific experiments but it also shows how the magnus institute, even in it's early stages, respected the scientific method, but only the scientific part and not the compassion part

Peer review is also super important in the scientific community, the restrictions of the scientific method also apply to the esoteric

However, omitting details is generally frowned upon so it is interesting to note that this man definitely cares about his scientific reputation more than the poor guy he sort of killed

Yeah 👍

Biological and neurological psychology was super weird in the past but probably not this weird

[battle-with-bipolar]

20 years ago I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. A serious mood disorder that can cause mania, psychosis, anxiety and depression. It has changed my life in more ways than I can imagine. I was only 14 when it first happened. My first time being dragged away to a psychiatric ward. For those who think it’s a holiday, trust me, it’s not. It’s a scary and isolating place to be. I was scared to sleep in my room unless a nurse was with me in case I thought one of the other patients was going to hurt me. Bipolar has robbed me of countless friendships, relationships, jobs and family. Anytime I’ve ended up in the psych ward it’s been for months at a time and my parents didn’t know if I would ever end up getting better. It’s endless amounts of monitoring, medication and blood tests. I would never wish this mental illness on anybody. It’s debilitating and the worst part is, no one can see it until it surfaces. And when it does surface, it’s a monster that turns you into something you thought you’d never be and can’t be in control of. I’m scared to meet new people because I’m worried once they find out I have bipolar they will leave me or think I’m crazy. I’ve also had 12 rounds of electro convulsive therapy at the age of 16 and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. They had to wheel me out in a wheelchair because I was too out of it to walk.

It’s an invisible illness that transforms your life into chaos. I’ve been in hospital more times than I can count and every time it’s been a scary, unpredictable ride. I hope this post can bring some clarity and explanation to people that may not know about this serious mood disorder and how it can tear someone’s life apart. It’s the reason I can’t work full time in case I relapse and end up in hospital and end up with no income. I also made a video years ago about my first experience with the illness and have reached many people that deal with the same thing. If you have read this far, Thankyou. If you can find it in your heart to understand people with this illness unlike many others I also Thankyou. I have a psychiatrist who I see regularly to make sure I am alright and able to function on my medication. Til then, I hope this sheds some light on mental illness, because we shouldn’t be shaming anybody for having any sort of illness, whether it is physical or mental.

[mariacallous]

Caligari A-Go-Go Perfume Oil

A fragrance inspired by the atmosphere and art direction of the film — its layers of grit and ooze, pop-art colors standing out against a starless void, clumps of debris, fake flowers, vials of mystery fluid, rumpled straitjackets and crisp lab coats.

Green amber, jasmine bud, cotton blossom, eucalyptus, secondhand smoke, dirt, and petitgrain.

Cannibal Soliloquy Perfume Oil

“I know what I am, but I know I’m not what I am. Beauty lives inside me. But oh, when beauty is trapped, it gets ugly…”

A perfume worthy of a fading Tennessee Williams heroine wandering through a mirror-maze of memories, only slightly singed from too many Electro-Convulsive Therapy sessions: wafts of burning frankincense rising from a hot-seat occupied by duelling champaca orchids, white amber, Sicilian mandarin, and bergamot.

Doom Cake Perfume Oil

A drug-induced vision of grabby, gore-slicked tentacles erupting from a facade of thick buttercream and lemon sponge soaked in cherry-flavored goo.

I Know You’re Watching Me Perfume Oil

The scent of full-blown nympho housewife hysteria: a smear of flushed, pearly skin musk splashed by a sophisticated vintage aldehyde perfume and drenched in the secretions of high-pitched arousal.

Minty On My Lips Perfume Oil

Even the brainiest femme fatale schemes are bound to collapse under the weight of a monstrous ego. The scent of defeat snatched from the jaws of success: a soft, satiny pink grapefruit punctured by a shiny metal drill bit.

Scarecrow Boytoy Perfume Oil

A lusty, bubbling cauldron of thick, black tar spilling forth from a pile of dusty straw and secondhand clothes.

Tongue Wall Perfume Oil

Fleshy and fruity: guava musk, slick strawberry lip gloss, and blood-tainted digestive juices.

XXX Means Kisses Perfume Oil

“Life imitates bad art.”

A rare portrait of innocence and integrity amidst the corruption of Caligari’s asylum. Tart hibiscus, skin musk, shea, and the faintest whiff of nicotine.

[weirdmaggedon-2-0]

I've been doing electro-convulsive therapy for my treatment-resistant depression this past week (I am 1/3rd of the way done) and while it's definitely already working, which is GREAT...I'm also...afraid to die, all of a sudden?? As in, I mean, I suddenly care if I die, and that realization has been very disorienting. I imagine it's going to take some getting used to

[compassionatereminders]

Hi Kat- I saw your post about new things being scary and that was RIGHT as I had finished fighting with my mom about me getting ECT (electro convulsive therapy) and she wants me to do it but i keep holding out because I’m afraid. I’m going to call the clinic now

As far as I'm aware ECT is actually quite effective at treating mood disorders in many people, but obviously it's for you to decide whether it's worth a shot! Don't let anyone pressure you either way ❤️

[only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are]

Redwood Psychiatric Institute - Part 2

MASTERLIST - PART 1

Note: Please feel free to send me asks or prompts for this series!

CWs: psychiatric hospital whump, medical gaslighting, noncon drugging, noncon sedation, syringes, ECT mention

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything hurt. His muscles ached, his head pounded, and his stomach did somersaults. He couldn’t remember what happened, but he knew he must have moved somewhere. His environs were now much brighter white and more sterile - which didn’t help the headache. He couldn’t remember falling asleep, but he felt like he was just now waking up. He was on his back, the padded walls of his new room just barely visible in his wavering vision.

“James.”

He finally realised someone was talking to him. He was only able to move his gaze slowly over to where the voice came from. 

“Are you with me now, James?” Doctor Wilson asked.

He nodded, but he wasn’t quite sure. His brain is too heavily fogged for it to comprehend and protest the issue of his name.

“Good. It’s time for you to have your therapy session. We placed you in this special high-security room. It opens onto a nice treatment-slash-office space.” He gestured to the orderlies standing at one of the walls of the padded cell.

Rowan didn’t respond as the orderlies stepped forward and lifted him to his feet. Doctor Wilson pressed a button on the furthest wall, and the entire padded wall slid up into the ceiling. The orderlies dragged Rowan through into the second room. He didn’t take in the operation table, or the dentist-like chair, or any of the other equipment. They took him to the corner of the room which held a desk and an armchair. Rowan was placed in the armchair, and Doctor Wilson took the desk chair across from his patient.

"Let us begin. Can you tell me where you are?"

Rowan remembered. "Redwood.. the camera.."

"You are in Redwood. But there was no camera. Can you remember your name?"

"Rowan."

"James Lawton." Doctor Wilson corrected. "And my name is Doctor Wilson."

"No.." Rowan's face is pale as he begins to piece his thoughts together. 

"Do you remember how you got out of the institute, when you wandered around?"

He couldn't think. He didn't understand. 

"How did you escape?"

He didn't escape. He knew that much. But how did he know that? There was something he was missing..

James? Are you with me?" Doctor Wilson peers at Rowan's face. "It seems our current treatment plan isn't working. I think soon we'll try a course of ECT - Electro-Convulsive Therapy."

After that, they dragged him back to his room to sleep off the medication. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For several days, he was woken up, force-fed his medication, dragged to the next room for therapy, and then dragged back. Each time he resisted the medication, Doctor Wilson became more and more agitated. The next time he was roused, Doctor Wilson entered the room with the orderlies and Nurse Dean. Nurse Dean held his usual tray of medication cups. 

"This is your last chance. If you don't take your medications, it's going to be injections." Doctor Wilson warned.

Nurse Dean offered the wax paper cup to Rowan. It was labelled James Lawton. As Rowan accepted the cup, he frowned.

"That's.. not. MY. NAME." He growled, throwing the cup full of pills to the floor. 

Doctor Wilson's face went red. "That's it."

He gestured furiously to the orderlies, who swept forward and grabbed Rowan by the arms. He screamed, trying to yank his arms away. His coordination was poor, inhibited by the drugs they'd been forcing him to take. With one, most desperate tug, he pulled his arms free of the orderlies and raced for the door. He shoved his shoulder into it, and he burst through. He was out. The white halls spanned away from the room like the tunnels of a rabbit warren. He heard their shouts, but he didn't listen, lunging forward into the mess of hallways and sprinted as fast and hard as his wobbly legs would take him. He ducked behind a corner, watching some of his pursuers lost his trail and ran off. He slunk down another hallway, coming to a stop as he saw a door left ajar. He could see vibrant flickers of orange and red and yellow at the back of the room.

Curious, he stepped into the room. There was a figure with his back to Rowan, standing at a furnace. In large, mitt-like gloves, he pulled open the door of the furnace and reached for one of the two objects on the table beside him. It was a large, square-like black object. Puzzled, Rowan continued watching. It was only as the figure placed the object into the flames that he realised what it was.

My camera!

He watched in stunned silence as his beloved Cannon EOS 1500D DSLR camera began to melt, flames licking up the metal and plastic like a delicious meal.

The figure picked up the other object - Rowan's ID card - and placed it into the furnace too, and then closed the door.

Arms grabbed ahold of Rowan from behind, knocking him out of his stupour. The figure didn't move from the furnace.

"NO! YOU LIED! YOU LIED!" Rowan screamed, lunging for the figure. "YOU FUCKING ASSHOLES!"

The orderlies in their white scrubs swarmed around him.

"James, calm down."

"Everything's okay."

"STOP BURNING MY THINGS. YOU CAN'T KEEP ME HERE, MAKING ME YOUR PRISONER AND DRUGGING ME SENSELESS!!!" He screeched, jabbing his finger at the figure in front of the furnace. "GIVE ME BACK MY THINGS, RIGHT NOW!"

At this, the orderlies exchanged glances. Their expressions made Rowan's blood boil.

"James.. there's no one there." A young female orderly said, her tone sickeningly gentle and polite.

An older woman took over. "Yeah, there's no one there. Why don't you take a breath and-"

"NO! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!!!" He yelled, fear and anger spurring him on. He tried to lunge from their grasp, but this time, they held him fast.

He was eased to the floor, where he continued kicking and screaming. Two large, burly orderlies pinned his arms and legs to the cold linoleum floor. He tried to keep thrashing even as they pulled down his pants and underpants, exposing his bottom. The young woman pulled a syringe from her pocket and uncapped it as she approached.

"Stay still, James. It'll hurt less." The burly orderly to his right, the man, tried in a friendly tone."

He didn't care. They weren't going to drug him, not again, not-

It really hurt as the orderly drove the syringe into the muscle of his bottom and injected the drug. She pulled the syring out, and the others thankfully pulled his pants back up. He was too weak to resist them any longer, but the orderlies didn't realease him, not yet. They pulled him to his feet, the world already spinning as they began half-dragging, half-carrying him down the hall. The last thing he saw before the darkness pulled him under was Doctor Wilson, standing at the end of the hallway with his arms crossed, waiting for his patient to be returned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @jazatronasmr @onthishamsterwheel @bumpthumpwhump @whatiswhump @jancameforthewhump

[sylvieons]

So I've been getting electro-convulsive therapy in an attempt to cure my depression and I've mostly fared okay but when I woke up today I had absolutely no idea where I was or what the hell was going on.

I also stopped to get coffee afterwards and the guy in the store asked me if I ever got my car fixed and I was like "what?????????" and apparently last time I was there my car wouldn't start or the key wouldn't come out of the ignition or something and he came out and helped me but I have no recollection of this so he probably thinks I'm insane. Which in a way I am or else I wouldn't have to undergo anesthesia and get my brain electrocuted multiple times.

[aristotels]

ECT is Electro Convulsive Therapy i believe. its when they electrocute you and try to destroy your brain for funsies :/

thanks that sounds horrible :(

[lifewithchronicpain]

I have suffered from 2 separate suicide attempts, more psych ward stays than I can count, and electro convulsive therapy. I don’t care who you’re defending or who you are calling out, when you say “kill yourself” I can’t trust you. Thanks for making my traumatic experiences a snappy comeback. It’s not the flex you think it is.