I am so distraught. I am feeling alarmed, angry, down on myself, depressed, hopeless, and frantic. I have been reminded, once again, that I am not at 100%, and perhaps will NEVER be my old self again. Everytime I think the stroke is behind me, I am reminded that it is not BEHIND me, it is a PART of me. That the black dead spot in my brain will never regrow itself.
I slept all weekend–out of 48 hours, I think I spent almost 30 hours sleeping. This is unusual for me. I couldn’t get enough sleep. I would wake up, wander a bit, maybe garden and then feel very exhausted and sleepy by noon. Then I would sleep until dinnertime. And eat, maybe watch a movie (I watched Vicky Cristina Barcelona this weekend–I loved it). And then go back to bed. It was a very mysterious thing and it reminded me of the early days of my stroke recovery when I would require at least 15-18 hours of sleep each day/night (depending on how you looked at it–because at 15 hours of sleep per 24 hour period, I’d be sleeping night and day).
But now, not so mysterious. I clearly needed the rest. My brain needed that rest. My brain clearly bonked and hit its limit by the weekend.
Because–because! I misplaced a folder full of papers that I CANNOT FIND. It is for my community college job, and the folder includes one doc that another teacher entrusted to me, to scan and copy for others. It was her ONLY copy. I am so freaked out and upset. My husband walked me through the entire Friday afternoon, step by step and I COULD NOT REMEMBER.
Had I brought the folder home? I *think* so, but I can’t remember. Where was it on my desk before I thought I picked it up? What did I do with my backpack and purse and folder once I got home? I DON’T REMEMBER. I don’t remember any details from Friday late afternoon and evening and night. It is a BLANK. Like someone came and erased the whole blue folder from my mind, ala Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. It’s as if my brain overloaded by Friday afternoon and it just shut down, much like an electrical blackout.
And no one accepts when I say, “I never used to be like this before the stroke!” I know myself. I was NOT like this before the stroke. I didn’t used to forget things IN THIS KIND OF WAY. Not in the whole “black hole never existed” kind of way.
Now I feel totally fucked up. Did I even bring that folder home? If I did bring it home, did someone tidy up behind me? I don’t know. I DON’T REMEMBER. I am going out of my mind–frantic, angry, panicked. Combined with feeling hopeless about my ultimate prognosis. I am worthless, I can’t even remember where I put a folder and I let someone else down. I want to scream.
I will never be the same again. Fuuuck.