**A Shocking Misunderstanding: Harley Quinn’s Stand Against Electroshock Therapy**

Prompt: Dc fanfiction Harley writes an article opposing another psychiatrist’s claims electro shock treatment has positive results in treating bulimia treatments

Harley Quinn sat in front of her computer, the sun filtering through her loft window, illuminating stray fragments of glitter on her “workspace”—which was really just a chaotic mix of notes, sketches, and half-finished coffee cups. She had just finished her latest piece for Gotham Gazette, her favorite gig that allowed her to voice the concerns of the marginalized in the city, including the deeply misunderstood, often oppressed patients like her friend Ivy. Today, Harley felt particularly fired up about an issue that had been gnawing at her for some time: a new article penned by Dr. Martin Hale, a well-respected psychiatrist advocating for the use of electroshock therapy as a treatment for bulimia. Harley read Dr. Hale's article again, feeling a familiar twitch of irritation at the claims being made. He had demonized bulimia as a mere symptom of emotional weakness, claiming that electroconvulsive therapy was a cure-all for those too lacking in willpower to simply “eat like regular people.” As a psychologist and a former patient herself, Harley felt a visceral reaction to the notion. She remembered her own tumultuous journey—the exhaustion of battling her demons, the mixed signals of body image issues and societal pressures—and the idea that a zap of electricity could solve deep-seated emotional pain struck her as not just misguided, but dangerously simplistic. With a deep breath, she began typing furiously. When it came to mental health, Harley was no dilettante; she had seen the struggles of others firsthand, and the last thing Gotham needed was more outdated practices masquerading as progressive treatment. "Dr. Hale neglects to consider that bulimia is not merely a behavioral anomaly; it is a multifaceted psychological disorder often rooted in trauma and societal expectations. Removing the ability to feel emotions through electroshock isn't a solution. Rather, it’s a way to silence the cries for help." Harley punctuated her thought with a dramatic flair, taking a brief moment to lean back, furrowing her brow in concentration. “Who cares if it's the 'latest trend' in mental health treatment? We’re not lab rats here; we’re human beings!” She could almost hear Ivy’s voice echoing in her mind, encouraging her: “You’ve got this, Harley! Show them your brilliance.” With renewed vigor, she dove deeper into her draft, weaving personal anecdotes alongside research that contradicted Hale’s claims. She recounted her experiences with therapy, the invaluable connections she formed with her counselors during her darkest days, and how support, empathy, and understanding had been pivotal in her recovery. As she constructed her argument, Harley envisioned a world without such conventional, draconian treatments—where caretaking was prioritized over coercive practices. “There are creativity and resilience in vulnerability,” she wrote. “Real growth comes from communication, not condemnation.” After hours of polishing her article, Harley glanced at the clock and noticed it was past midnight. Feeling wired and inspired, she saved her document and prepared for bed. But sleep eluded her, nagging thoughts racing through her mind as she imagined the impact her piece might have on Gotham’s mental health discourse. She felt exhilarated yet anxious, unsure of the reception her article would receive. Would people understand her message or dismiss it as the ramblings of a “crazy clown girl”? The following day, Harley woke up to a flurry of notifications on her phone. Her article had gone live, generating buzz among her friends and foes alike. It seemed that Dr. Hale had wasted no time in responding—even releasing a statement that asserted Harley was misinformed due to her own past struggles. The words clawed at her, but she was resolute and unyielding. The time for silence was over. Harley took to the Gotham Gazette's comment section, engaging with readers and other mental health advocates. Excitement bubbled within her as they rallied together to dispute the established norms—many shared their own horror stories of therapists who valued ‘quick fixes’ over meaningful healing. In particular, one comment caught her eye: “Harley, I’m glad you’re voicing the truth. My sister underwent ECT, and while it helped her depression somewhat, she lost herself in the process. Don’t let them silence you!” Fueled by the solidarity she felt, Harley penned an open letter to Dr. Hale, inviting him to participate in a public debate about mental health treatment. She was nervous but invigorated, a feeling she hadn’t experienced in years. Weeks rolled by, and Harley’s proposal gained traction. Plans were in motion for the debate, which would be held in one of Gotham City’s largest venues. The event promised to be filled with passionate voices, emotions, and heated discussions—creating a richer dialogue around mental health treatment. She couldn’t help but think of Ivy, who always cheered her on, sharing wisdom she had cultivated with the flora of Gotham’s parks. Maybe they’d make an impact together. On the night of the debate, anticipation electrified the air as Harley stood behind the podium. She wore a vibrant purple dress—adorned with multicolored streamers—and a pair of combat boots, reminding everyone that she was both fierce and fearless. She was still that whimsical girl from Brooklyn, but she had grown. As the debate unfolded, Harley spoke of compassion, empathy, and the importance of tailoring treatment to meet the individual needs of patients. Dr. Hale, confident yet rigid, reiterated his position, emphasizing statistics and studies that seemingly supported his perspective. Yet, as Harley countered, weaving in powerful anecdotes, she could see his demeanor shift. The audience was engaged, laughing, gasping, and nodding appreciatively at Harley’s insights. In the end, the debate exceeded her wildest expectations. Both her supporters and those who disagreed walked away with questions lingering—conversations sparked, planting seeds that could lead to change. As Harley stepped off the stage, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders; she knew she had taken a stand for something that mattered. Harley Quinn, once a mere psychiatrist in a quirky outfit, had transformed into a voice for the often unheard, advocating for mental health treatment that was thoughtful, mindful, and above all, humbly humane. It was a little chaotic and a lot colorful—a quintessential Harley life, finding beauty in the chaos and forging a path for brighter tomorrows.