Memory.

I think i’m in trouble again.

After the past week and a half of feeling better and on the mend, I slowly started to convince myself that I was okay. This could bare a problem in so many ways;

1. Convincing myself that i’m fine could result in another bout of depression when it starts up again.

2. I have my assessment next week – and after 10 years of dealing with this – I have alot riding on that appointment.

3. Convincing myself that i’m fine could possibly be an indicator that i’m not.

It started last night. After being on the perfect 5 (and the occasional 6) on the mood scale for the past week, I went to bed irritable, wanting to move around alot and with racing thoughts again, only to wake this morning with a temper form hell for no apparent reason, irritable again – faffing around the house with my mind in a million places at once. This was followed by a rather productive day, a 5 hour stint of job application after job application in which I was forced to end (mommy duty called, I could have easily gone on for another few hours). Intense concentration, obsessive word perfecting, diverse career opportunities in which each job I convinced myself that it was the right career pathway for me until I found the next position. My phone was downstairs (not like me to not check it obsessively every half an hour!), no toilet, coffee or nap break – I had about 9 tabs open – just GO! GO! GO!

My productivity had notched my scale up to a 7. I love 7’s – it means seriously getting stuff done.

Then when I stopped and tried to settle down – I couldn’t. My head was spinning so much I slipped in to the daydreaming againg (maladaptive, usually happens when I have too many thoughts to process). Restless energy, the colours on the tv were bright, the blues and yellows on the screen popping out so much they hurt my eyes to focus. I felt great, but spacey. I started talking to myself at one point (it helps to let it all out), and the visual hallucinations that are present every day now, have been occuring much more frequently and have been much more noticable.

And then I realised it was a Friday. Nothing weird about that, right?

Only I was convinced that it was a Tuesday. When realisation suddenly dawned on me that P had finished early, and it truely was the end of the week, I freaked. Where the hell had I been since the beginning of the week? I had no memory whatsoever of what I’d been doing. I had lost 3/4 days. Small doings were popping up – I remember the halloween make up I had been doing the night before, I had been shopping that morning but barely remembered going, but I just couldn’t put all these events together. I’d remembered that this morning S had asked me how my mum was ‘when I saw her the other day’ and I was so confused. Did I see my mum? I hadn’t seen her since last week? Wrong again, my daughter had stayed at over at my mums during the week and i’d both visited and made conversation with her on two seperate occasions. This still doesn’t seem real to me. I couldn’t tell you for the life of me what I did on monday.

Thinking about it, I have no memory of the summer. It both baffles me and scares the crap out of me that it’s now November. I still see it was being April/May. I’ve lost the summer.

The only way I can describe it is if you are looking through a telescope in the night sky. When I look in to the past, I see specific memories (the moon) If i focus really hard, but when i’m concentrating on one specific thing, I cannot see what lies around it (the rest of the sky). I just can’t put a picture of my whole year together collectively. 2013 might as well have just not happened.

With this new insight and admittance of my memory deteriorating, even worse so when I appear to myself to be well – I feel scared and worried about my well being. And that makes it all the more realistic.

Maybe I’m not fine after all.