Riding a LENS brain-shift

This week we touched the motor/sensory strip site that sent me into a towering rage for a full week last time.  I asked the doctor about it, and she offered to skip over that site entirely.  I didn't really want to do that, for the sake of a complete map and also because if nothing else, the experience was interesting.  The compromise was to just barely touch that site, rather than use the usual signal strength/frequency. 

So naturally, I had immediate effects right after that, and effects for the next two days (per standard LENS-shifts).  This is actually unusual for me; most LENS shifts only manifest as increased or decreased anxiety, or better or worse moods. 

So this one site, as I mentioned, is special.  Other than the initial experimentation, I've had virtually no ill effects (and several major good ones) from the LENS system.  Only this site is different, and only that specific one.  There are two sites on the brain's sensory and motor strips, and the other one doesn't seem to care if it's poked.

At the top there are the motor and sensory strips.  The site is basically on top of the divide between them.

 

I can never entirely tell whether I imagine things during LENS operation or not, but while that site was being poked, I felt kind of a pulsing from the spot.  It was too slow, in my opinion, to actually be the signal sent to the brain.  But presumably it was a sign something happened.  Thereafter I opened my eyes, and things kinda shifted out of focus for a second.  Both of those are unusual, so I reported them to the doctor and took careful note myself.  That was my first sign I would be having a more interesting couple days than usual.

The drive back, when I first had this site done, was my first clue that something was off.  I'd found myself in a towering road rage, which basically didn't go away.  (Please note, this rage did not include sitting on someone's bumper.  Just wishing I could strangle them.)  So this time as I drove back, I paid careful attention while driving.  I didn't seem to have any road rage.  So I dared to hope this might be an easier experience. 

I went to bed that day with basically no obvious effects.  I woke up the next morning to an all-day marathon of Everything You've Ever Done Wrong, Awkwardly, or Stupidly. 

You know how sometimes you're just thinking about nothing, or something random, and your brain suddenly decides to remember a time in your past when you did something stupid and upset someone?  Or you did something stupid and then had to deal with the fallout of it?  Like accidentally quitting without saving your work in a word processor, or that time someone asked you a question and you just couldn't think of a good answer in time?

People with depressive and anxiety tendencies experience those kind of memories more often than your average person.  Like, more than a dozen times a day.  The stronger the tendencies, the more frequent the experiences.  I got treated to a marathon of those, all day.  The only respite was keeping myself busy, which was made more difficult by the fact that all those reminders of my failure made me not want to leave the apartment or do anything important. 

I played a LOT of Picross that day...

Suffice it to say my morning and afternoon was both tiring and miserable.  I tried to compensate for the anxiety and experiences with good food, minor exercise, and GABA ("chill pills").  Nothing seemed to help.  I guess my brain was in full runaway mode.  By the evening, I'd both gotten rather resentful of the whole experience and the symptoms were starting to fade.  So I'd kind of exchanged some of the marathon for a very toned-down version of the road rage from previously.  So then my energy was devoted to not being mean to Chris and anyone else I had to be in contact with. 

Chris was a sweetheart and opted to buy us lunch at a halfway point between his work and our apartment.  The lunch came with hugs, which were a small comfort.  They didn't change my brain at all, but hugs are nice. 

This morning (Friday, two and a half days since the LENS appointment), I had trouble sleeping but otherwise was fine.  So I think the worst is past.  Other than the fact that I had to get up early to actually write this (my buffer ran out, nooooo), anyway. 

A final note: at least two people about my age have commented that I'm very brave, prodding my brain with LENS the way I do.  I... can't really agree, for a simple reason.  Both those people are on medication. 

Far and away, LENS is much less destructive to the body than medication.  Medication for anxiety and depression can make you gain or lose weight, spike your hormones, or even worsen what you're trying to treat.  And you have to be on it a full month, or more, to see if it's going to help.  It often won't, meaning you've dealt with a bunch of unpleasant symptoms for a month, for nothing.  Then you have to buy another expensive bottle, and repeat.  And repeat.  And repeat.  I hear it called the medication roulette.

LENS?  Either works or it doesn't (85% yes, 15% no).  If it works, it's then up to you and your practitioner to make it work best for you.  The strength, frequency, and variation in the signals you send to your brain can change its workings.  Unlike medication, the good changes stay in the brain.  Much of the human body contains self-healing mechanisms (if you get a cut, it heals up in time), and the brain is no exception.  But it sometimes needs help.  LENS is that help, for all kinds of people.  One day I won't need to visit the office at all, other than to say hello.  Which makes these rare unpleasant experiences more than worth it, I think.