Changing the Narrative Around TMS: Thank You to James Hall and All Who Speak Up About Side Effects
- jordanswellness
- 5 days ago
- 7 min read
In a world where TMS is praised as a miracle treatment, those of us left injured are often silenced, dismissed, or downvoted. This post is part personal reflection, part gratitude to those—like James Hall—who’ve paved the way for truth-telling about those side effects, and part call to action: it's time to make space for all experiences. I’m sharing a few Reddit exchanges that reflect what it's like to speak out, the emotional toll, and why this conversation matters now more than ever.

Disclaimer:
The information in this blog reflects personal experiences, publicly available reports, and scientific literature regarding potential harms of transcranial magnetic stimulation (TMS). It is not intended as medical advice and should not replace consultation with qualified healthcare professionals. Individual responses to TMS vary, and while harm is underreported and often dismissed, this blog is shared to raise awareness and support informed decision-making. If you believe you are experiencing adverse effects from TMS, seek a medical evaluation and trust your body and experience — even when professionals dismiss your concerns.
In this post, I share recent Reddit threads where my experience with TMS injury was misunderstood or dismissed — something that happens often to those of us who were harmed by a treatment many assume is “safe and effective.” I respond with honesty, not hostility, and reflect on how isolating it can feel to be vocal about an invisible injury.
More importantly, this post is a thank-you note to James Hall, whose articles and advocacy through Mad in America, interviews with Dr. Josef, and the Medicating Normal platform helped build a safe space for people like me. His voice has paved the way for others to come forward with less fear and more truth.
Sharing negative experiences doesn’t invalidate the good ones — but criminalizing or silencing harm only deepens it. This is a call for nuance, compassion, and informed consent.
Sometimes, just telling your truth gets you downvoted.
I’ve learned that firsthand, especially when sharing my experience of being harmed by TMS. Even when I speak with compassion, people still find ways to discredit or dismiss what I say. I’ve been told I must not have a life, that I’m just “stuck on Reddit,” or that I’m too negative—simply for telling the truth: TMS caused me severe, lasting injury. These side effects are real.
This week, I found myself in another Reddit conversation where I had to defend my right to speak. The original post suggested that those who share negative TMS experiences are “stuck on their phones,” while people for whom it worked are “too busy living life” to post. It felt like a subtle but familiar invalidation of anyone who’s been harmed.
I responded. I tried to speak honestly. And once again, I got downvoted.
But this time, something different happened: the original poster listened. They apologized. They leaned into the conversation rather than away from it. And that small gesture gave me a little hope.
A Reddit Conversation That (Surprisingly) Turned Into Dialogue
The post began with a familiar sentiment: “Most people for whom TMS worked aren’t on Reddit.” The implication? That people like me—those speaking out about harm—are just stuck in a loop, while others are “out living life.” It subtly painted injured people as bitter or dysfunctional, just for raising concerns.
I felt compelled to reply. I explained that I didn’t come to Reddit to dwell—I came because I was harmed by a treatment I was told was safe. I talked about being dismissed and gaslit by providers, and how Reddit became one of the few places I could tell the truth. I tried to do so with compassion. Still, I was downvoted.
But then: the original poster apologized. They admitted their projection, thanked me for sharing, and engaged openly. Others chimed in too—one person shared how they were falsely accused of harassment by a provider after asking for a transfer of care. Another described being brushed off after developing tinnitus. These aren’t stories you’ll find in a clinic brochure—but they’re real, and they matter.
The conversation wasn’t perfect, but it reminded me that honest, respectful dialogue is still possible—even in hard spaces.
These are the moments that give me hope. It’s why I keep showing up—not because I’m “stuck on Reddit,” but because people are still being misled, harmed, and left to suffer in silence. That has to change.
When Even the Professionals Push Back
In another thread, a TMS provider responded to someone who was beginning to question the safety of TMS after reading stories like mine. The provider claimed that 95% of the harm stories came from “one person trying to build a brand,” and suggested that those of us injured must’ve had underlying conditions. They acknowledged adverse outcomes as “unfortunate” but framed them as rare and unrelated to the treatment itself.
I responded. Because that kind of polished dismissal—wrapped in a soft, professional tone—is exactly what enables harm to continue. I clarified: I’m not selling anything. TMS robbed me of my career, my health, and my stability. I created my blog not to monetize, but to prevent others from being blindsided like I was. I also explained that blaming victims for “pre-existing conditions” delays correct diagnosis and meaningful support—especially for brain injuries, which need timely care to heal.
The provider never replied.
That silence speaks volumes. It’s easy to ignore harm when you’re selling the treatment. It’s harder to sit with the fact that people like me were genuinely injured—and are still paying the price.
When You’re Told “It’s Safe” — But It Wasn’t
In a recent post, I reached out to fellow survivors about the TMS documentary I’m co-creating. I shared how isolating and gaslit the experience of TMS injury can be—and invited others to speak up if they felt ready.
One commenter said they’d sensed TMS was “bad news” over a decade ago, calling it disturbing and experimental. I replied that they were right to trust their gut—and shared how hard it can be to hold onto that instinct when a doctor frames TMS as your only hope. That was my situation: no psych med history, no alternative options. TMS was marketed to me as “safe,” with “no real side effects.”
But after just three sessions, I developed neurological symptoms—cognitive dysfunction, visual processing issues, hypersensitivity, autonomic dysregulation. I was later diagnosed with a traumatic brain injury.
Someone else in the thread asked for more detail. I explained what happened, and how none of it was disclosed beforehand. When I spoke up afterward, I was dismissed.
That’s exactly why I’m working on this film: to expose how skewed the marketing is, how silenced the injury stories are, and how urgently we need real informed consent.
TMS is often marketed as a “safe alternative to ECT.” For me, it caused life-altering harm—and I was never warned.
These conversations drive me to keep writing. Not because I want attention. But because people are still walking into this blind—just like I did.
They’d rather believe we’re anomalies than face the fact that something sold as “safe, non-invasive, and FDA-approved” can cause devastating injury.
But I’m not an anomaly. I’m one of many.
When I was harmed by TMS, I wasn’t looking to “stay stuck.” I was looking to heal. I trusted my doctor. I trusted the science. I trusted the stories. What I didn’t know was that some people walk away from TMS with brain injuries—and no one warns them. Clinics don’t mention it. The media doesn’t question it. And when we try to speak, we’re met with doubt or silence.
But I’ve learned: silence protects systems, not people.
So I keep speaking—not to scare people, but to protect them. I write for those still searching for answers. For the ones who’ve been gaslit. For the person scrolling Reddit at 2 a.m. thinking, “Something feels wrong, but no one believes me.”
To James Hall: Thank You
I’m not the first to do this. I want to thank James Hall, whose story on Mad in America cracked something open in me. I cried when I found it—not because it was comforting, but because it was real. It didn’t try to sugarcoat injury. It named what happened. It gave me language. It made me feel less alone.
To James, and to every survivor who’s spoken out despite fear, shame, or backlash: thank you. You’re changing the narrative. You’re making space for truth.
Your courage helps others feel seen. And your honesty reminds us: we’re not broken—we were misled.
We’re not speaking out to invalidate others’ relief. We’re saying: don’t ignore the rest of the picture.
TMS isn’t harmless. And pretending it is won’t make it so.
If you’ve been injured: keep talking. Keep showing up. Others are listening—even if they don’t know how to respond yet.
And if you’ve been helped? You’re welcome in this conversation too. Just don’t dismiss those of us who were hurt.
There’s room for all the stories. That’s how change happens.
📎 Essential Reading & Listening:
I didn’t choose this path — TMS changed everything. But I am choosing to speak up. Not out of bitterness, but out of a deep need for honesty, accountability, and care. The injuries from TMS are real, and too many people are still walking in blind, trusting a system that won’t warn them. This project is for the ones who were dismissed, for the ones still searching for answers, and for the ones who know something felt wrong — but were told to ignore it. We deserve to be heard. And we’re not going anywhere.
All my light. All my love.
Namaste,
Jordan
My Gear:
Comments