Who the Fuck Am I?!

Who it is?
Image belongs to: woovakoova.deviantart.com

Jenny and I have long since given up on me remembering everything. Hell, it’s one of the reasons I’m writing this blog. My memory is shit! I’ve been known to forget people, places, even activities. I’m notorious for being mercurial and sometimes unreliable. It has always just been part of the package that is “Rory.”

We are starting to suspect that there is a little bit more to the story, though. I’ve always chalked my blackouts and failure to remember things up to mania, depression, and general forgetfulness. Then we started coming across more information about Dissociative Identity Disorder(s) (DID).  It has been an interesting study, and one that I hope I can discuss with my clinician as soon as possible.

The major things that have stuck out for us are personality polarities, lapses in memory more often/severe than can be attributed to normal forgetfulness, and time loss/disturbances.

For the personality polarities, I mean that I am drastically different sometimes. Outside of being depressed/manic, I also have other times when I am just different. I like x food or x drink, and then the next day, the same things make me sick. The way I behave changes, even the way I shower or brush my hair is different some days. This isn’t such a big deal, except that I cannot remember the other behaviors when they aren’t active.

Last night, I got into bed, and my hair was laying the wrong way. I tried brushing it the right way, and all I managed to do was make it stick out. I was all “WTF is wrong with my hair?!”  Jenny was all like “You combed it that way dumbass!” Not really, she doesn’t call me dumbass, unless I really deserve it. Point being, I didn’t remember combing my hair that way. When I told Jenny this, she was really confused. Apparently, I’ve been combing it this way for ages. I had no idea. I also have more than one recipe in my head for certain foods, like French Toast. I cannot remember them all at once. The only reason I know they are different is because the kids tell me I used different stuff. Whatever, it’s fucking egg-bread.

The lapses in memory are a real pain in the ass. The kids will ask me to do something. I will say “sure” and move on with my day. Later, they are understandably upset when I have no idea what they are talking about. An interesting one: The Girl once asked me to help her store a very fray-happy fabric safely. I did some magic, and it was stored safely for some time. Last month, she came to me, asking me to do it again for another fabric. I was at a loss. I had no idea what they hell she was talking about. Jenny confirmed that this was once a thing, and I just had to shake my head and admit that another part of my past was irreparably gone.

I’ve forgotten much more important things, like serious conversations about our future with Jenny, and counseling sessions. I forget when my meds change, so Jenny has to do my pill minder. She mostly does it anyway, but especially when there’s a change, she HAS to do it, or I won’t take the right meds because I don’t know they’ve changed! The next day, presto-chango, I know exactly what’s going on there, and I don’t remember that I forgot. It makes me bonkers, and I can’t imagine how frustrating it must be that I can’t remember parts of our lives. Not just little things, but big moments are only in my head “sometimes” and I never know which things are going to stick. And right now, there’s nothing to do about that.

The time loss/disturbance is always disconcerting. It’s seriously complicated by the fact that I have a history of seizures. Sometimes, I sit on the edge of the bed, start (for example) putting on my undies, and then, I don’t know how much later, I realize that my underwear are on the floor, and my balls are stuck to my leg because I’ve been sitting in that position for so long.

It’s hard to tell what’s what there. Did I lose the time to “daydreaming,” or did I have a catatonic seizure? If it’s daydreaming, then there is some drastic shit involved, because I don’t sweat enough for my balls to get sticky in just a half a minute. It’s gotta be at least 5 minutes before enough juices get flowing for that to happen. If it was a seizure, do I need to talk to my doctor about it? How often are they happening that I’m not noticing? Fuck off, I don’t even know what kind of sick I am.

Other time disturbances include feeling like time is crawling. For the entire day. While I’m having fun, while I’m cooking, all – fucking – day. I am glued to the clock, because I always assume the pasta has already been cooking for ten minutes, instead of the 2.5 it’s actually been. Other times, I just blank out. We will drive all the way to Phoenix, and I’ll remember 1-2 songs, and that I talked to Jenny. Not what we talked about necessarily, but that we did it.

The worst of it, and honestly, the breaking point, is that I can’t have a conversation with people sometimes. I have literally no idea what they are saying. I will have to ask Jenny to repeat herself 4-5 times. Sometimes, I still didn’t get it, and we just drop it for later, because it’s too frustrating for Jenny to have to repeat herself, and too embarrassing for me to keep asking her to. On the flip side, I will think an entire conversation. In my head, it actually happened. Do you have any idea how much it sucks to repeat an entire conversation to someone who wasn’t part of it?

Jenny reads a lot of my posts before I post them, and she says this section in square brackets isn’t accurate. Apparently I don’t often tell her what happens in the imagined conversations, and when I do, they usually aren’t realistic (Jenny: At least that’s how I remember things. My memory isn’t perfect either. I hope, for Rory’s sake, that when I remember things vastly differently from him, I’m remembering them correctly. The last thing I want to do is confuse things even more.): [It’s particularly odd when say, Jenny’s part of the conversation, is spot on. She’ll prompt me to repeat the conversation, and she’s just amazed at how much my imaginary Jenny thinks so much like the one I’m marrying.] The worst bit is when I don’t realize that it has happened. I will be regaling someone with a conversation Jenny and I had. At the funny bit, while everyone is laughing at some witty thing my fiance has said, she will get this very pointed expression on her face, and say “I didn’t say that.” To which I either reply with “Yes. Yes you did,” or (preferably) “My mistake.”

This literally means I don’t know what is real sometimes. At least in these contexts. It makes Jenny and I question all of my memories. The funny shit is that sometimes, I remember conversations word – for – word. I remember who said what, when they said it, the inferences and context of the conversation, everything. It’s like I watched it as a movie or something. Just bizarre.