LIVING WITH SELECTIVE MEMORY LOSS

A little tale told to me by a friend f mine, Yeside Lawal a fellow storyteller that i decided to pt up here. enjoy.

2008/2009 was an amazing session. It was the year I met most of all the people I presently love; the best friend, the best room mates and extended room mates.
It’s the year ill gladly go back and live again.
It’s the last year I fully remember.

6 years later
I wake up in a brightly lit hospital room, with a smile on my face. Weird right? Who wakes up in a hospital room with a smile on their face?
I think back and try to remember why I have that smile on my face and I remember that I had just had the most amazing fun time with my friends….. 6 years ago!
What’s happening, why do I vividly remember the year 2009 and can barely remember why I am in the hospital?
And then the doctor walks in, with the family. They all seem pleased that I am awake, and so I realise I had been “asleep” for quite sometime.
Everyone’s happy, but inside my mind, I’m trying to understand what’s really happening.

Finally, someone decides to tell me the story of how I got to the hospital. I fell and bumped my head and passed out. What a cool story, I don’t remember ever passing out in my whole life but then again, how much do I remember about my whole life?

Doctor comes for a few tests and then I tell him, “sir I can vividly remember a really really long time ago, but right after that everything else is a blur. Please could you tell me why?”
Doctor asks plenty of questions and after about 2 hours, he concludes that I have the symptoms of Selective Memory Loss or Lacunar Amnesia as you would have it.
What the hell is Lacunar Amnesia?
And so I receive the most interesting lecture I ever have in my whole life, but I ask again, how much do I remember about my whole life?
So I’m told that I don’t remember quite a number of events in the last 6 years of my life, the people I have met, the crazy shit I probably have done and a whole lot of other stuff because my brain somehow decided to delete most of the stuff that made me unhappy, embarrassed, stressed and tired.
I think it’s so cool and I laugh, but it won’t be funny for long.
Now don’t get me wrong. I remember the last 6 years of my life but there’s a really huge gap in all that I remember. I can’t piece some information together, most events are a blur and in my remembrance, I sometimes find that I’m talking to myself.

Anyway, I get tired of the hospital smells and ask to be discharged. With no life threatening issues and just a small bump on the head, I am discharged with plenty of drugs…yuck….

I get back home and its time to face the world that my beautiful brain has decided to erase incompletely. So here I am, with a huge gap in my head and the world I left behind me, ready to start all over again and probably find people that could help me with the missing pieces.
I pick up my blackberry Q5, which I barely remember how to operate, hoping to find my best friend and tell her all I just found out and how cool I think it is. Then I realised I had deleted my BBM. I go through all the wahala of reinstalling it, I was so happy to know that I remembered my id and password.

And then, I find out that the person I know as best friend isn’t even on my BBM. And so my cool story doesn’t look so cool anymore, what happened? Did we fight and delete each other? Someone explain my life to me right now, please.
I pick up my nokia torchlight phone and call the best friend, who goes on to explain that she had been relieved of the title best friend, is more of my big sister now and married. Well I remembered the marriage sha…

Back to BBM, I start looking for people I am/was close to and can’t place a finger on anyone…and then my funny story starts getting less funny.
I took a chill pill.
I received messages from two friends, but I had blurry memories of them but they were really nice and didn’t seem to know so much about my life.
I decide to send a BC, thanking those that checked on me and dropped messages, on the other phone of course, and also in an attempt to let those that didn’t know what had happened know that something happened. All in the hope that the friends that would help would immediately respond and ask what happened and the rest would be history…. I was wrong.
After a really long time, one person responded, what a relief, I quickly went on to tell her what happened to me and how she looked familiar. She told me we knew each other and her name, but I guess we weren’t really close because I never heard from her after that.

I went back to the doctor to lament; my life had suddenly become difficult. I didn’t know who to start a conversation with, who not to start a conversation with. Doctor said, “Take it easy, it’s not your fault, your friends will help you, if you have any.” Now that was a slap on the face, what if I didn’t really have any friends? And then it hit me, I totally never kept a friendship beyond one year, I am terrible at friendships.

It all got harder than I thought. But in every disappointment there’s a blessing, right? I just needed to be patient.
Another friend pinged me and before I said anything to him, I told him the situation of things and he understood but the good thing was I remembered him, I had this cool memory of nice conversations with him but when I asked myself how I met him, all I remembered was under the senate building in the university of Lagos, nothing more. I didn’t tell him that of course.
More people pinged and I figured I might just tell everyone what happened and if any is interested they would inquire further. I decided to live one day at a time.

It’s been one week since and it’s been a really scary, funny, and sad experience so far.
I keep looking at this spray painting of a name on my wall. I have no idea how it got there or whose name it is.

I have always been an insecure, shy and very sensitive person, it is hard enough telling people that I do not remember how I met them or know them. The faces look familiar but the memory is just not there anymore. Some of these people have been mean, some have been nice.
But at least now I know that those blurry memories have something to do with an embarrassing situation, something that has made me sad or caused me pain and my own subconscious way of dealing with such events is forgetting them totally.

I know I’ll still find out a lot of forgotten stuff, see people who have been suppressed with the forgotten memories and with time I’ll learn how to handle it.
Living with a selective memory loss isn’t fun especially for a person like me but I see it as an opportunity to literarily forget the past and not have it haunt you again, to let go of whatever hurt’s been holding you back……

hoped you liked her story… if there’s more to the tale i’ll share it here.

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