A Void to Fill.

Usually when I begin writing a post I open my trusty Word Document with a grain of an idea and begin typing. This time I am sitting here waiting for something witty to discuss. Okay, so maybe witty is pushing it a little. Sometimes I am inspired by social media, not to write about a topic discussed but by how that makes me feel about an underlying problem or feeling I observe.

It’s been several minutes now, and something keeps coming to mind, a daughter. I don’t have one but through the years I seem to borrow daughters of other people. As a teacher and youth director at my church it was bad, as in every girl from the age of 16 and under was my child.

I’ve done well in my later years, being a good father figure to children out there that didn’t have a father or didn’t have one that was emotionally present even though in the house. It’s a painful thing.

After I lost my memory I also lost some daughters. It seems things just weren’t the same for them. I get it and I don’t blame them. It’s a painful thing.

But now I’ve borrowed another one and it’s been a good thing for me. She’s a good one. Somehow, I always fall into these wonderful young ladies who are smart and talented. Of course, it’s still not real. I don’t know, I just feel like there is this void inside that needs filling and I keep grabbing on to these wonderful people to support and encourage. That’s what I really love to do. That encouraging and supporting feels so good to do for someone. But, of course it’s not real, is it? It’s a painful thing.

Of course, some people are going to say I need to just be happy with what I have, and believe me, I love my son, B. For those of you that don’t know about B, I call him that because he’s my (B)oy. Yep, not putting his name out there, not even on Facebook with people who already know about him, not even a picture of him.

B is super smart, always on the equivalent of Dean’s List at his private college prep school. He has amazing promise on the trumpet, according to his band director, and even the director at an event including all the local schools’ best musicians performing together took time to point him out specifically. I just wish he would practice at home, but he doesn’t because he worries he’ll bother my migraines. I have them 24/7 since the concussion.

So yes, I have a great son. And I am perfectly fine with that and happy with that. The thing is that it just feels like something is missing. I have a feeling that one day that void will no longer be a problem, but for now, I’m borrowing a brilliant (G)irl who is the exact female version of B.

Well, that’s a little more personal stuff about me and how all that internal stuff works for me. A lot more than I planned but once I start writing I usually don’t back down. I go with it and share it. Fearless to a point. Honest to a fault. (Oh yeah, I don’t lie in my writing, just so you all know. If you read it here, it’s Truth.)

Catch y’all next time.

PS

Of course I came up with a topic as I finished this.

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Losing it. What do I do?

There’s a saying that goes something like, “You don’t know what you got till it’s gone.” For about two years I’ve kind of laughed at that phrase. For some of us, when something is gone we don’t even know what it was which means we don’t miss it.

I’ve been fine with it. I go through each day with a new loss flittering away and I feel fine. That’s because I don’t know what flitters away. Okay, so I know something is likely being lost. I’m aware that memories are lost.

Normally I don’t stress about it because stressing leads to other problems. Recently a memory loss, a huge one, became evident—with vigor.

I’ll explain an “other” problem for a moment. Depression. Well, I don’t know that it really needs to be explained. We all know what depression is. When a memory goes away and I then have people forcing that memory back in my head, or trying to get it back in there, things happen. The brain snaps. I actually at some point feel a pop in my head. I am sure it’s not really anything physical, only a psychological representation of what is happening.

When that happens, Ronovan is gone for a time.

My huge memory loss recently led to such a situation. I would think things were going fine, then wham, another hit from a different side. Lulled into things being okay. Wham, another hit. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat.

Now, here I am, depressed, physically ill, and looking for the learning lesson of it all.

Memory problems make for a bad emotional entity. They also make for a bad relationship of any type. You wake up and you don’t know if that person who is your friend, spouse, significant other, father figure is still going to be that for you.

Who is it fair to in that situation? As I’ve been writing this I’ve been sorting through it all. I suppose the best thing is if it’s a repeat offender status thing, cut and run if the situation allows for it. I know live in family members can’t do that but there are things you can do.

Accept the memory loss person (MLP) for who they are, knowing what is possible.

Be supportive in the efforts of the MLP to handle it. Think for a moment about this. You wake up, or are even going along writing or watching a video and then—WHAM—you don’t know what day it is, or what city you are in, or who that person in the other room is. Ever wonder how a person handles that each day?

Think about being in the middle of a sentence and forgetting who it is across the table from you. In this age of internet and digital conversations and friendships it’s even more difficult to remember without those constant physical/visual cues.

People might find it surprising that I wake up and have forgotten the people in my house. Or I will go through one of those situations above. My body goes through a routine each morning and I discover what my problems are and I just go with it. I’ve told myself in letters not to stress, that I am normal. This is normal for me. I tell myself to begin to write something from a list of projects I’m working on.

Sometimes memories will come back or at least enough of a familiarity to make things fine or functionable. Yeah, another of my made up words.

What about the other person, the person forgotten?

What would I do if I were on the other end of this?

I honestly can’t answer that with an all encompassing solution. I think patience is part of it, understanding, and you know maybe even just cut and run. I know people balk at that last one but it is an option. But that is the option people will focus on here because it is seen as the uncaring, cold idea and how could I even think of telling someone to do that if a person cared about the MLP or of the MLP cares about the person.

I’ve been living with this for two years. You get to the point, where after having written about it, thought about it, and lived through it, you cut through it all to the heart or heartless of it all and give solutions.

And what about the MLP? Should they keep trying to remember, opening themselves up to an emotional tug-of-war to then either go through the loss again, perhaps not knowing it, or then being shut off once a connection is established again?

What do I do?

I have no one answer for myself. Perhaps I should, it would make my life easier. Can a person live a life, a healthy life mentally without people? I suppose they can but I’m not that far gone yet.

Now, for those who look at my writing and things I share each day and think I seem normal and I have all these friendships and all, the MLP has tricks they use to get by. Don’t call out the MLP for this if you still want to be a part of their life. At least they are trying.

I’ll tell you one trick I have. It’s called the Ronovan Writes Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge. No, that’s not a plug for my challenge. I am telling you about a trick. There are people who do the challenge every week, and that means I read their work, usually at least twice, think about it, review it, see their names, and all of that every week. It doesn’t work for each person because of lack of regularity but when I see the name I know it’s familiar and once I get to their site things come back.

MLPs have sensory/emotional impressions of people if not actual memories. I know by a name, if it has been around me long enough, if that person is someone that is positive for me or negative, if that person is a friend or foe, if that person is emotionally good for me or a life drain.

When you hear that old saying about first impressions, it’s true. Make a good first impression and good last impression as well. You are asking, “How do I know when that last impression will be?” Whenever you leave the communication presence of someone, that’s your last impression until the next time you connect with them.

Well, this has been a longer message than I had planned, and I’m not sure if it is even what I had intended, but it is what it is and that’s all that it is. So, as I have just now read back through it, you might find it surprising I forgot about half of what I wrote while I was writing this. But again, it is what it is. I’m not to blame, you are not to blame, there is no blame.

Oh, I just remembered why I was writing this. Seriously. That big recent memory loss I had, like a mind wipe almost, took some important people away and broke things. Hmm, never mind. You know, I’ve tried. I think I will just deal with the depression of it all, come out the other side, and say I am what I am. It’s all I can be. Even if I don’t like it, I have to accept it or wind up on the 6 o’clock news.

 

Much Respect

Ronovan

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