One Man's Journey with Brain Implants for Depression

Jon Nelson knows the journey well the steady rhythm of the train from Pennsylvania to New York City has become a familiar part of his routine. But this isn't just any trip. Jon is volunteering for a groundbreaking study on deep brain stimulation, an experimental treatment offering hope to those battling severe depression. Each visit to the research lab brings him one step closer to understanding whether this innovative approach can help him reclaim the life he’s been fighting for.

Meet Jon Nelson a dad, husband, coach, and marketing professional. On the outside, his life seemed full, but beneath the surface, Jon battled severe depression for years. The weight of his suffering led him to volunteer for an experimental treatment called deep brain stimulation, where tiny electrodes are implanted in the brain to help regulate mood. In this episode, Jon opens up about his life before the surgery and the neuroscience behind the procedure that offered him a chance at hope.

Transcript 

This podcast explores the realities of mental illness, depression, and suicide. It doesn’t shy away from the difficult moments, but it also highlights moments of hope and resilience. As you listen,

 please keep that balance in mind.

Jon Nelson might remind you of someone you know. He lives in Newtown, a charming small town northeast of Philadelphia, with his wife, three kids, a dog, a cat, and a bearded dragon named Lizzie. By day, he works in marketing; by night (and weekends), he’s coaching his kids’ softball and hockey teams. And if there’s a Steelers game on, you know where to find him cheering with unwavering loyalty. The Nelsons almost seem like a sitcom family, complete with a dad who’s always ready to share a bit of life advice sometimes cheesy, always heartfelt.

Jon Nelson: "We try to do the usual things cooking together, sitting down for meals as a family. Our house is the one with basketballs scattered outside, always a bit messy because we’re constantly playing and staying active. But at the heart of it, we just love spending time together."

Narrator: " From the outside, Jon’s life looked picture-perfect. But on the inside, he was fighting a battle no one could see struggling every day just to keep going, holding on with everything he had."

Jon: "I’d read a newspaper article about a plane crash and instantly think, ‘Why couldn’t I have been on that?’ Or hear about someone dying in a car accident and wonder, ‘Why couldn’t that have been me?’"

Narrator: Jon was living with what's known as "treatment-resistant depression" a relentless weight that made his inner world feel like a constant battle.

Jon: "I'd be the one leading the champagne toast, smiling and laughing with everyone. But on the drive home, all I could think about was crashing my car into a tree."

Narrator: Jon's depression had pushed him to the brink. Desperate for relief, he made the difficult decision to try an experimental treatment: having electrodes implanted in his brain. It was a complex and deeply invasive procedure one designed to send electrical signals to specific areas of the brain, aiming to ease the relentless weight of depression.

The risks were high, and there were no guarantees. But after years of trying everything antidepressants, therapy, and countless other treatments Jon felt this was his last hope. Scientists had spent years refining the technique, learning how to target the right areas of the brain and identifying who might respond. Though the procedure wasn’t FDA-approved, Jon was willing to take the chance.

Jon: "I was excited for the surgery because, at that point, I didn’t want to live anymore."

Narrator: Jon had battled suicidal thoughts for years, but the reality of what he was about to do hit him hard the day before his surgery. The moment that brought it all into focus came from his son.

Jon: "I was dropping off my kids in New York City, meeting up with my wife’s family they were taking the kids for a bit. My youngest, he’s my emotional one. My middle son? He’s independent, doesn’t need a hug. But my youngest? If he could climb back into my wife’s womb, he would. He’s that kind of kid always needing that closeness. And as he hugged me, he looked up and asked, ‘Dad, am I gonna see you again?’

I remember exactly where I was standing on the corner of 37th and 3rd Avenue. And in that moment, it hit me. I saw the situation through his eyes, and for the first time, I felt scared."

Narrator: Jon hugged his kids around 5 p.m. on August 21, 2022. Just twelve hours later, he was being wheeled into surgery. Surgeons carefully drilled two small holes into the top of his skull ione on each side. Through those openings, they threaded thin wires deep into his brain. At the ends of those wires, electrodes were placed, resting roughly at eye level within his brain. In the days following the surgery, doctors began sending tiny pulses of electricity through those wires pulses designed to reshape the way Jon’s brain functioned. Their goal? To help Jon find a way back from the darkness that had consumed him for so long. 

Throughout this series, you’ll hear the stories of Jon and others who faced life-threatening depression and chose to have electrodes permanently implanted in their brains in search of relief. You’ll meet Amanda, a thoughtful, soft-spoken artist in New York City who brings her emotions to life through vibrant, Technicolor drawings. Each of their journeys is different, but they all share one thing: a search for hope when everything else had failed.

Amanda: "When I told my friends and family, most of them were surprised they’d never heard of anything like it. But with one group of friends, I tried to lighten the mood. I said, ‘Hey, guys, I’m getting a brain implant. Guess I’m a cyborg now!’ They just kind of stared at me, not sure how to react."

Narrator: You’ll also meet Emily, a deep thinker with a PhD in psychology. She’s spent years studying the human mind and gaining insight into her own along the way.

Emily: "I see the self as something we create through our actions and choices. But with depression at least in my experience it slowly changes who you are. It’s not like one day you just wake up with depression. It creeps in gradually, bit by bit, until it feels like a part of you."

Narrator: You’ll also hear from a new father who has chosen to remain anonymous. The reality is, we live in a world where stigma still surrounds both depression and its treatments. And, of course, you’ll hear from Jon, along with the doctors and neuroscientists leading this cutting-edge research.

Jon and the others come from different walks of life, but their stories share common threads. Each of them has endured intense suffering. Each has faced the stigma that so often accompanies depression and its treatments. They’ve all wrestled with profound questions about identity, about what it means to be themselves, and about whether those tiny pulses of electricity are changing who they are. And for the first time in years, each of them has experienced emotions that had long been out of reach.

This isn’t a story about a miraculous medical cure it’s far more complex than that. It’s a story about mental health and futuristic brain science, yes. But it’s also about stigma, identity, ethics, and the search for belonging. More than anything, though, this is a story of hope. Hope for Jon. Hope for his family. And hope for the millions of people worldwide living with severe depression.

We’re living in the middle of a mental health crisis that much is clear. Depression rates are higher than ever. The pandemic, combined with a strained healthcare system, has left countless people struggling. In the United States alone, an estimated 2.8 million people have been diagnosed with treatment-resistant depression a label that can feel like a life sentence. After years of trying everything, Jon found himself among them.

Jon: "For more than a decade, I tried everything. Two residential treatment programs, three partial hospitalization plans, two inpatient stays, and intensive outpatient programs. I tried transcranial magnetic stimulation, medical cannabis, ketamine nasal spray you name it. I went through every medication you can think of, all searching for some kind of relief. But nothing worked."

Narrator: Jon had truly tried everything. In fact, to even qualify for the experiment, he had to undergo electroconvulsive therapy (ECT) a procedure where a strong electrical current is passed through the brain to trigger a controlled seizure. For some people, ECT can be life-changing. But for Jon, it only brought intense, distressing memory loss with no relief from his depression.

Eventually, Jon found his way to a clinical trial at Mount Sinai Hospital in New York, where scientists were testing a technique called deep brain stimulation, or DBS.

Here’s the idea: Our brain cells communicate using tiny bursts of electricity. It might sound technical even a little abstract but these electrical signals are what power everything we think, feel, and do. Our memories, emotions, movements, and even our sense of self are all shaped by neurons firing off these signals. But sometimes, those brain circuits get thrown off course and that’s where DBS comes in. By delivering small, precise jolts of electricity, DBS can help “reset” those misfiring circuits, restoring the brain’s natural rhythm.

It might sound like science fiction, but there’s solid research behind it. The approach was pioneered by Helen Mayberg, a neurologist at Mount Sinai who has dedicated her career to understanding how DBS can help people like Jon find their way back to themselves.

Mayberg: "In a way, we're helping a person's neurons relearn how to work together like retraining the brain to function the way it’s supposed to, after being out of sync for so long."

Narrator: I want to pause for a moment and acknowledge that this is still experimental. Deep brain stimulation (DBS) hasn’t been approved by the FDA as a treatment for severe depression. What you’re hearing about is research, not standard clinical care. The scientists behind these studies have worked in hard to ensure the procedure is as safe as possible, but there are no guarantees.

I first heard Dr. Helen Mayberg speak about DBS more than a decade ago. She shared the story of her very first patient—a nurse living with severe depression. I remember watching a video that captured the moment DBS began to work. In a matter of seconds, the woman went from withdrawn and expressionless to laughing out loud. The science was fascinating, but what really stayed with me was the question: What did that feel like? What was it like to go from feeling empty and numb to suddenly looking around and laughing again?

Recently I caught up with Dr Meyberg to talk about the journey since those early days—the breakthroughs, the setbacks, and everything researchers have learned along the way.

Mayberg: "When you see the real-life impact your science has on people, it changes the way you think it shapes the questions you want to spend your time answering. Those first DBS implants weren’t my first experience with depression research. I’d already spent 15 years studying the condition. And as a neurologist, I’ve seen a lot over the years. But witnessing the evolution of science firsthand it gives you a whole new perspective."

Narrator: Through Dr. Mayberg, I got to know Jon, his wife Barbara, and their vibrant, hilarious kids. Over the past year, Jon and I have kept in touch we’ve talked over Zoom, exchanged texts and emails and he even welcomed me into his home for a Sunday with his family.

Let me start with the garage. It’s packed with signs of a busy, active family: hockey sticks, softball catcher’s gear, golf clubs, bikes, inline skates, balls of every kind, a mesh goal, and a white motor scooter that’s almost too cute for words. And if it’s not obvious yet Jon really, really loves hockey.

Jon: "Ice hockey has always been a huge passion of mine something that's been part of my life for as long as I can remember."

Narrator: Jon’s love of sports has only grown since becoming a dad. These days, you’ll find him coaching his daughter’s softball team and both of his sons’ hockey teams.

Jon: "My favorite part of coaching, hands down, is figuring out what each kid needs to thrive. I love the emotional side of the game understanding what make its each player tick, helping them grow not just as athletes, but as teammates. Being able to connect with each kid and coach them in a way that works for them that's what I love most.

Narrator: I’m a coach too. I coach my daughters’ soccer teams. So when Jon tells me about how good it feels to connect with kids and the joys of being part of a team, I completely get it. I have felt the same way. But I also know that he is next level with it all. 

Jon: "I’ve got a few coaching -isms’ that the kids all know by heart. Number one: 'Nobody touches the goalie.' Protecting our goalie is a top priority. But at the end of the day, what matters most to me is hearing parents say, 'My kid had a great season. They grew as a player, and they can’t wait to come back next year.' That’s what success looks like to me."

Narrator: When Jon talks about hockey, softball, his family, or even his job, you hear the version of him that most people know the outgoing, high-energy guy who always seems to have it all together.

Jon: "I've always been an extreme extrovert the kind of guy people call 'the mayor of the town.' I’m the one making plans, rallying the group. Not in a controlling way, but more like, 'Come on, let’s go! Let’s make this happen!' It’s just part of who I am."

Narrator: Jon’s boundless energy and adventurous spirit that infectious zest for life was what first drew his wife, Barbara, to him.

Barbara: "Jon was so outgoing, fun, and friendly it balanced out some of my own social anxieties and insecurities. I could bring him to a social event, let him do the talking, and just sit back and be my introverted self. He had this infectious enthusiasm for trying everything, and because of him, I started doing things I’d never done before going to basketball and hockey games, cheering at Penn State football games, even experiencing the Indy 500. My world just felt bigger when I met him."

Narrator: As life moved forward and they settled into raising their family, Barbara began to notice that Jon was struggling more and more.

Barbara: "One of the ways Jon coped was by keeping himself as busy as possible until it all caught up with him. He’d jump out of bed, head straight to work, put in a full day, then come home and dive into playing with the kids, full of energy and fun. But by the end of the day, he’d hit a wall and crash. That’s when I started to notice how his behavior was affecting our family dynamic. There was this intensity to everything he did looking back now, I can see he was trying to cover up how he really felt, just pushing through to get by."

Narrator: Jon kept pushing forward, doing his best to keep up appearances. But inside, his depression was becoming a private hell. Over time, his world began to shrink.

Barbara: "He’d spend hours upstairs in bed with the lights off or just watching TV endlessly. It became so unpredictable you never knew if he was asleep, zoned out, or just needing space. I’d stand outside the door, wondering, 'Should I knock? Should I leave him be?' Meanwhile, life kept moving on downstairs without him."

Narrator: Jon could see the problem he knew something was wrong. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t break free. He was stuck.

Jon: "I started pulling back little things at first. I didn’t want to go out with friends as much. If we had a family event, I’d find ways to skip parts of it. That’s how depression creeps in through small patterns of isolation. And yeah, sometimes you tell little lies, just to get out of things. You don’t mean to, but you’re just trying to escape."

Narrator: Over the past five years, as Jon's depression deepened, thoughts of dying became more frequent. Still, he fought with everything he had to keep showing up for his family, for his teams, for everyone who counted on him. His struggle is a glimpse into the relentless misery that depression can bring. Here’s Mayberg.

Mayberg: "Part of what makes treatment-resistant depression so devastating and why it’s linked to high rates of suicide is that you’re suffering, and you know exactly what you’re trying to escape from, but you can’t outrun it. No matter where you go, it follows you. There’s no relief. Jon described that feeling the way depression clings to you like poison. Yet, somehow, he found the strength to keep going. Every week, he poured every ounce of energy he had into one thing: coaching his kids’ games. It brought him more joy than anything else, and that drive gave him just enough strength to keep pushing forward, week after week."

Narrator: But eventually, Jon reached a point where he couldn’t keep living that way. Everything led up to that moment—the night before his brain surgery—when his son hugged him tightly and asked, “Dad, am I gonna see you again?”

Jon: "I remember exactly where I was standing on the corner of 37th and 3rd Avenue. My son hugged me tight and looked up at me, asking, 'Dad, am I going to see you again?' And for the first time, I felt scared."

Narrator: Remember, this was the same man who had spent years longing for an end to his pain the man who noticed the trees along his drive home, knowing which ones could be fatal if he veered off the road. And yet, standing on that street corner the night before surgery, something inside him was still holding on. Still fighting.

But for Jon and his family, this wasn’t just a fight it was a matter of life and death.

Next week, we’ll step into Jon’s world and explore what depression felt like both in his mind and his body and what led him to that street corner in New York City.

Jon: "For me, depression wasn’t just in my head it was physical. I could feel it in every single cell of my body, all the time. It never let up. Eventually, I started calling it poison."

Narrator: If you and someone you know is facing a suicidal crics or emotional just call it text the help line or life line.