A badly misunderstood treatment gave me my life back

Hey everyone, Joe here. If you know me through my AI workshops or read my weekly column in The Macon Melody, you might not know about one of the darkest chapters of my life. I want to share it now because maybe, just maybe, it can help someone else who’s stuck in the dark.

When the COVID-19 pandemic hit, like so many teachers, I went from full classrooms and conversation to a silent laptop screen. I was teaching audio, video and film in Bibb County, but when we switched to remote learning, I lost more than routine, I lost connection. Gradually, anxiety and depression took over in a way I’d never known before.

I tried everything I could think of: therapy, medication, changes in diet, even ketamine treatments. Nothing made a dent. Most days, I could barely get out of bed. I didn’t want to die exactly, but I didn’t want to wake up either.

It was my wife, Ellen, who found the answer. She heard about electroconvulsive therapy (ECT) through a friend. You’ve probably heard it called “shock therapy,” and maybe you picture scenes from old movies, terrifying, dramatic, and even barbaric. I did too. But Ellen did the research, talked with my psychiatrist and gently pushed past the stigma.

Here’s the truth: ECT today isn’t what Hollywood has led us to believe. It’s a safe, medically supervised procedure used for severe depression that hasn’t responded to other treatments. It works by gently triggering a controlled seizure in the brain, and that simple, strange-sounding mechanism can help rewire the foggy, looping pathways that depression creates.

I went through more than ten sessions. And then one day, it’s hard to describe, but it felt like a giant shade lifted. For the first time in a long time, I felt awake. I felt like me again.

Since then, I’ve come back to life in every sense. My family called it my return to being “back in town,” and my first step was working part-time at a local bakery on Vineville Avenue. If you’re in Macon, stop by Layers. Try the cake (seriously, the best) and meet the incredible family who runs it: Seve, Reia and Sydney.

From there, I started volunteering at Daybreak, reconnected with old friends and found myself cherishing ordinary days in ways I never did before. My joy in rediscovering life eventually reignited my curiosity, and surprisingly, that curiosity led me to artificial intelligence.

I’d always loved exploring new technologies in the classroom. So in the summer of 2024, I took on a teaching role at Mercer University’s Creative Computer Camp. I had the chance to teach both elementary and middle school students how to use AI tools effectively and ethically. It was thrilling to see how naturally kids engaged with this technology and how they used it to create, solve problems and even have fun responsibly.

But something else stood out. While the kids were curious and fearless, many adults I spoke with seemed overwhelmed, confused or even scared of AI. I realized that there was a real need to help grownups understand what this technology is and how it can be used in everyday life. That realization became the seed for Ask AIJoe.

Since then, I’ve been writing about AI each week in The Macon Melody, leading community workshops, consulting with small businesses and talking with groups of all ages about the benefits and risks of artificial intelligence. It’s meaningful work, and it wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t made it through that long, dark tunnel.

I’m sharing all this because someone out there might be where I was. If that’s you, please hear this: even when it feels hopeless, it doesn’t have to be. If nothing else is working, ask your doctor whether ECT might help. Don’t let fear or old stereotypes stop you from trying something that could change, or even save, your life.

To Ellen, my angel, thank you for refusing to let me disappear. 

To Dr. Leslie Tomek, thank you for making us feel seen, safe and supported throughout the ECT process at Piedmont Macon. 

And to anyone reading this who feels alone, you’re not. I’m proof there’s a way back.

If you want more information about ECT, feel free to email me at misterfinkelstein@gmail.com or go online.

Sometimes life breaks you open so something new can grow. That’s been my story, and if you’re struggling, I hope it becomes yours too.

Joe Finkelstein (AI Joe) has been a technology educator in Bibb County for more than 20 years. For questions and comments visit askaijoe.com