In Blackest Night – Forgeticus
As you get older three things happen. The first is your memory goes, and I can’t remember the other two.
It’s no secret my memory is a terrible wasteland that sits somewhere inside my mind. Whether it be ethereal or physical, the once honed tool now sits atop a mantle blunt and decaying. Remembering something is like a war between brain cells – the one side fighting to regain that memory, that errand or life event that needs to be brought to the forefront and then the other side, hammer and tongs at burying and ultimately disposing of the memory ne’er to be recovered.
It feels like a losing battle; the frustration at myself over the increased rate of forgetfulness is a daily reminder of that. Age is the obvious culprit, although my memory lost its shine in my late teens. I used to pride myself on how sharp my mind was. Technology, among the usual suspects, is standing there proudly in the line-up. My mind doesn’t get used as much as it once did. Mental thought process are so dusty and rusty that mental arithmetic and other forms of problem solving introduced and enforced in school are but a faint memory soon to be forgotten.
Repetitive tasks I once did can now be down via the plethora of apps and devices removing the need for the super highways of my brain. While I can do a lot more thanks to technology I find myself doing a lot less. Part of it is the lack of motivation and part of it is because, when I’m spoilt for choice, I retreat and shy away because of the anxiety I feel at having such a range of choices. I get angry at how unproductive I’m being but I can’t set my mind to something tangible that will remove that feeling.
A common question is how can I forget my medication? If I’m really struggling with depression, how can I forget to take it or put in a repeat prescription? The honest answer is I don’t know. Forgetfulness doesn’t work in a rational way that you can reverse engineer. I can try and rationalise by saying that I take my medication at night, as instructed, and usually don’t put a light on to do so. I keep the blister strips down by my side of the bed and reach down and pop one out when it’s time. I try to take them at the same time each night but sometimes a hurdle gets in my way. The main hurdle is tiredness.
So I usually take my Mirtazapine at about midnight. Sometimes I fall asleep and so miss my dose. I have, on occasion, taken it in the morning as soon as I wake up. If I remember that I have forgotten. I ran out on Saturday of last week. I meant to put my repeat prescription in sooner but by the time I realised I was on my last three tablets, I put the repeat in on Thursday. It wouldn’t be ready to collect until the following Monday. I had three tablets but four nights to cover. So I deliberately missed a dose on Thursday night; after all, one dose won’t hurt.
Things were a bit hectic on Monday so I ended up forgetting to go and collect it. Tuesday was much the same – I had a few appointments and after my shitty start it never even entered my mind. Thankfully, I set aside time to go on Wednesday but, as I had to go to a different surgery to collect it, I wasn’t near the pharmacy I usually go to. I’ll get it later. Only, when later came, I forgot. So here I am on Thursday, three nights worth of Mirtazapine down and I’m starting to feel incredibly low. I have felt a lot more tired than usual these past few days and ended up falling asleep – something I had pretty much put to bed. So to speak. Even as I’m typing this I’m fighting to keep my eyes open.
Words can’t truly describe the way it feels when trying to wrack your brain t remember something. The missing memory is like an item on display that vanishes but you can’t quite remember what item it was as there were too many–you just know something is missing as you can see/sense the gap. The ethereal cogs grinding and churning inside your skull to be met with further clunking and clanking with no end product. It’s a horrible feeling and it physically hurts. I can feel my head aching when trying to think so hard.
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