My dwindling memory is getting in the way
My memory is horrible. In fact, I am constantly struggling to remember what I had for breakfast. I take Ginkgo bilobasupplements when I can remember (OH THE IRONY) but even those don’t seem to do the trick. It gets in the way of functioning in my everyday life. In fact, the new guy I’m seeing is accusing me of not listening, when that is surely not the case. I also have to write just about everything down so I can remember to get them done.
When people find out I occasionally dabble in the marijuana arts, they are quick to blame the plant on my memory loss. When in fact, this memory issue started WAY before I even touched the stuff, which was age 28. Memory issues started to decline after the age of 26.
Now, if someone blamed it on ALCOHOL, I wouldn’t be so quick to respond no. The truth is, I have been a drinker since the age of 15. I’ve written about it before, my first shot of vodka at 15 from a shot glass of two aliens fucking each other (I guess there are SOME memories you never forget). Ever since then, I have binge-drank more times than I choose (or CAN) remember. Alcohol really is a poison. My drinking has significantly decreased, and in fact, I had my first drink since New Year’s Eve the other day. It was bittersweet.
Sidenote, and this is neither or nor there, but alcohol is legal and marijuana is not. JUST SAYING. This is a topic I will indefinitely get into eventually.
In my quest to better my memory, I have realized I have been asking questions that stem directly from one of my survival mechanisms, THE VICTIM. Why me? Why does MY memory have to suck? If it sucks, I can’t get that far in life, or remember all those great memories. That last pondering thought led me to my next train of thought, if I can’t remember the great memories; I also can’t remember the bad...
The bad memories...
Ah, the bad memories. There are a lot. Forgiveness is something I have struggled with my whole life. The memories can be so vivid. I can remember exactly how I felt in those moments. Remember, I can FEEL more deeply than the average Joe, so pain is magnified. The more I can remember the pain, the harder it is to forgive.
The universe does not make mistakes. No, this is not just something I tell myself to get through the hard times; it is something I just KNOW. Maybe my dwindling memory is helping me to forgive. Maybe, it’s helping me forget how shattered my heart was. Maybe, just maybe, this is a blessing.
It seems as if the universe is a poet in disguise. It seems as if, I have single handedly turned fear into love, and ladies and gentleman, that is a miracle right there.
Speaking from the heart
These days, I have to try harder than usual to remember how badly you hurt me. In fact, I am almost having a hard time remembering how you talk, how you walk, and how you do your hair. How do you play a victim to a situation or person you can’t even remember?
As usual, thank you, universe. Just when I start to believe you may actually being trying to screw me, I realize AS ALWAYS that it’s my duty to figure out the lesson. Thank you for being a contributor in my forgiveness process. As always, you have my back.
Love you, always.