Ebow the Filling: Mercury, Memory & the Missing Questions

There’s a lyric in R.E.M.’s E-Bow the Letter that’s always stuck with me:

“Aluminum… tastes like fear.”

When I first heard it, I didn’t just understand it—I felt it. Deep in the nerves behind my molars.

If you were born in the ’70s or early ‘80s, chances are you’ve got amalgam fillings in your mouth.

And if you’re neurodivergent like me—undiagnosed for most of your life—you might’ve spent decades wondering what the hell was going on inside your body, your mind, your skin.

I’m not saying amalgam fillings caused my ADHD, my anxiety, my allergies.

But I am saying this:

There’s a question here that no one seems to want to answer.

And for those of us who grew up zapping ourselves awake with tiny electric shocks in our mouths, feeling overwhelmed by sound, light, and social nuance… we’ve earned the right to ask that question out loud.

The Shock in My Mouth

It wasn’t just a weird sensation. It was oral galvanism—a documented phenomenon where dissimilar metals in your fillings literally create a low-grade electric current in your mouth.

It was real. It was physical. And yet no dentist ever warned me.

Those dentists?

They were the baby boomers.

Standing there, cigarette in mouth, drilling away with their nicotine-stained fingers, saying “She’ll be right.”

Well, she wasn’t right.

And now, forty years later, I’m part of the generation trying to make sense of a body and brain that’s been in quiet rebellion for decades.

Sound as a Signal

R.E.M. weren’t just writing alt-rock anthems—they were crafting tonal blueprints for the undiagnosed.

The syncopated rhythms, the nonlinear lyrics, the sensory overload baked into every line… it mirrored my inner world.

“Tick tock tick tock.”

“Maybe you’re crazy in the head.”

Maybe. Or maybe the world didn’t have a name for what I was feeling.

Maybe it still doesn’t.

What Science Says (and What It Doesn’t)

Australian authorities say amalgam is safe.

They quote the WHO and NHMRC, claiming mercury release levels are well below harm.

They’ve quietly phased it out for children and pregnant women under the Minamata Convention—but no apology, no acknowledgment. Just a quiet backpedal.

Meanwhile, people like me—people with 50-year-old mouths and 50-year-old nervous systems—are left wondering:

• What’s the long-term effect of amalgam fillings on neurodivergent people?

• Why has no one studied the link between mercury exposure and ADHD in adults?

• Why are galvanic effects dismissed or ignored by most mainstream practitioners?

• Why were we never told about the “safe” materials that might not have been safe for us?

• Who’s responsible for the silence?

Here’s What Needs to Be Said

There’s a growing surge in adult neurodivergence diagnoses. We’re not making it up.

We’re not suddenly broken.

We’re finally being heard—but still not being studied.

Our generation—the ones who copped mercury fillings, leaded petrol, smokes in shopping centres, and sugary school tuckshops—we’re the cohort they forgot to ask about.

And now that we’re asking the questions, it feels like the system would rather we didn’t.

But we are.

A Call to Action

I’m not writing this for pity. I’m writing this because I want answers.

If you’re a public health official, a researcher, a dentist, or a doctor—answer these questions:

1. Why hasn’t there been a comprehensive study on the long-term neurological effects of amalgam in adults, particularly those with neurodivergent traits?

2. What support exists (or doesn’t) for adults seeking safe amalgam removal and detox pathways?

3. Can anyone prove, conclusively, that mercury exposure in sensitive individuals has had zero impact on ADHD prevalence or intensity?

4. Why is oral galvanism not part of standard dental diagnostics?

Tone, Memory, and Reclaiming the Thread

We hold memories in the body.

Sometimes they hum.

Sometimes they zap.

And sometimes, if you listen closely, they play a chord that refuses to resolve.

Ebow the Filling isn’t just a story about a mouthful of metal.

It’s a story about silence. About what happens when you grow up in a system built for someone else’s nervous system.

About tone, truth, and finally pulling on that thread that won’t let go.

This is our moment.

Our generation has earned the right to ask the questions the boomers never did.

They ran the country. They ran the drills.

Now we’re running the audit.

And I, for one, want answers.