Deep brain stimulation involves the implantation of electrodes within the brain which are connected with wires to a electronic impulse generator implanted in the chest. This "brain pacemaker" then emits a current which stimulates a specific area of the brain, in this case a location called the habenula.

The habenula, according to the report, is a location next to the brain stem responsible for control of three major neurotransmitter systems which are believed to be involved in depression.

The researchers received accidental confirmation of the operation's success when the device was switched off during preparation for a unrelated surgical procedure and then no one remembered to turn it back on for several days. The patient's depression immediately returned, but then abated once the brain stimulation was resumed.

Another larger study is planned with hopes that it will prove that stimulation of the habenula is both safe and more effective than stimulation of other brain locations in relieving treatment resistant depression. If it proves effective, this could be wonderful news for those who have struggled to find a treatment that helps them.

She died last Winter and the sadness that it holds eat at my brain. Pretend to be numb, pretend to be dead, pretend to be asleep but feel every single emotion hitting you like a ton of bricks.

Nothing ever gets better, it just get more numb.. You end up numbing your brain so much that you can barely even think a real thought or conjure up a full sentence.

I don't want to speak or know people, because human beings constantly disappoint you anyway.

There are that many thoughts replaying in my brain that I could make a thousand movies out of them and still have story's to tell.

The endless stream of consciousness that breaks you

" She was a genius of sadness, immersing herself in it, separating it's numerous strands, appreciating it's subtle nuances. She was a prism through which sadness could be divided into it's infinite spectrum"

Lets sleep in a forest and watch the sun rise between the trees;

I can hear you whisper through the cracks in the floor boards; so I lay flat down face to the ground

I've felt the weight of this depression lying full length across my body for far to long.

"Get better, feel better, think real thoughts, get involved in reality, speak to people more, stop living inside your own head"

We are all sick beyond repair, but this is real. She is slowly dieing and I'm just sitting here watching her disappear in front of me, getting sicker and sicker as the days go by.
She can barely breathe and it's clenching at my stomach like you wouldn't believe. I want to make her better, I want to see her live a normal childhood but I'm not watching her grow or get well, I'm watching her decay and fade away. I spend my nights waiting for the illusive phone call to tell me that her pain has finally ended, and every time I hear that phone ring, my whole body freezes and my world stops.

My life is strange and is filled with a sadness that I will never understand. I still have the same feelings as when I was 11. disconnected from reality, alone, unable to connect with people, numbing myself with sleep, then lack of sleep for days, nightmares, craving attention, craving to be alone, then the lonely feeling again. My mind is a giant cluster of every thought that I refuse to think.

heartache

insomnia is eating me alive

my thoughts are electric shocks that keep me awake at night

we must do this until we crumble and fall.
we must do this until we crumble and fall.
we must do this until we crumble and fall.
we must do this until we crumble and fall.
we must do this until we crumble and fall.
we must do this until we crumble and fall.
we must do this until we crumble and fall.
we must do this until we crumble and fall.
we must do this until we crumble and fall.
we must do this until we crumble and fall.
we must do this until we crumble and fall.
we must do this until we crumble and fall.
we must do this until we crumble and fall.
we must do this until we crumble and fall.
we must do this until we crumble and fall.
we must do this until we crumble and fall.
we must do this until we crumble and fall.
we must do this until we crumble and fall.
we must do this until we crumble and fall.
we must do this until we crumble and fall.
we must do this until we crumble and fall.

The weight of you crashing on the bed is like an explosion of paper cranes crumbleing in my head

If silence is a weakness

then I am weak

the weakest.

Growing old in a feeling of tight Suffocated air, something that squeezes you so much that you can barely breathe, all of my words are the same like a musical box that won't shut up. All of it's strings are fractured and it just makes this awful broken Sound

we grew old in this bed, we lye here in a pure sadness holding hands and whispering secrets in to each others ears
ones that haven't been told before

monitoring the moments, the silence

makenosense makesense
These pills make you feel absolutely numb, so fragile and still.
Some times i can't even remember if i've taken a breath in the last hour
it's good though, to feel nothing at all, i'm like a space cadet
or a special kind of human with super powers
who can turn on and off at anytime that it pleases.

it covers most of the pain up like a band aid on a bloody knee.
you can walk down a street and feel nothing at all
drag your fingers accross the bricks on the walls and avoid getting hurt
the people who pass you will always walk in slow motion
like a movie that's meant to make you feel spaced out or something.
I guess watching those beatings on your mother when your a child gives you some sort of brain damage that finds a spot in your head and just hides there until you feel sad enough to think about it all again.
it feels like a bomb has just reached it's peek and in that split second you know everthing is over for the next two hours and everyone you speak will hurt more than the last.

feeling fragile like porcelain waiting for the gloom to fade, waiting to tumble into another world a little less dull, waiting to escape this city, waiting for the moon to drag me through the stars and galaxys, waiting for the floor boards to crack, waiting for the sadness to eat itself up, waiting for these walls to fall apart, waiting for the mess to clean itself, waiting ..waiting, waiting. awaiting these endless seconds, waiting for him to blow holes in my brain until i cannot think another thought.

staring at the speck's of dust that come out of the projector at the cinema, being more fascinated at that then what's on the big screen, i'll sit for two hours thinking up story's about other galaxy's