Brain Dead

Ugh.

My brain is deteriorating.

Not. Joking.

I knew there was a possibility this could happen, I just didn't know when. At some point the eleven electroconvulsive therapies in 2004 would catch up with me, right?

Now I know that it is 'normal' (whatever that means) to walk into the kitchen and forget what you went there for, right? It's something that people have laughed about for centuries, right? Except it's not just the kitchen scenario that I am dealing with here; it is affecting my daily existence.

I had been thinking a few months ago that my short-term memory was a little off. I had attributed it to the mountain of stress I had been buried under at the time, as well as the several months preceding it. Now that many of my stressors have been resolved, or at least alleviated, I am not so sure.

For example: while writing or reading I might think, "A cup of tea would be nice right now", and pause whatever it is I am doing at the time. By the time I get to my feet and take a step, I cannot remember what it is that I was going to do. Same thing with putting together a perpetual shopping list. I discover something that I need to pick up, like shampoo, and by the time I walk to the kitchen to put it on my list, I cannot remember to write what I was going to add to it. An hour or two later and 'shampoo' pops into my head. I have no idea why.

My medication has me on a pretty even keel, finally, and because I have taken the same meds for years, I would like to think that meds have nothing to do with it.

And so it goes.

Research & Development

If a research project for brain transplants ever comes to fruition, in my lifetime, I will camp out on the doorstep of the research building so I am the very first person in line.

Not. Joking.

In 2004, electroconvulsive therapy swept away a lot of my memory, if I am given more ECTs would it take the rest?

Sharing

Every time, and this is not an exageration, I see, hear, watch, or read something wicked cool, the first person I want to share it with is Henry. And I can't. Well, that's not entirely true - I could but it would feel like sharing into the wind.

Jake, my stepson, had a birthday earlier this month; his 24th. When I met Henry Jake was 5 years old. Now he is married and has a son. It doesn't seem possible!  I have some great pictures of Jake that I had taken over the years. Then, Henry and Jake walked out of my life. Jake was 17 at the time.

I will hold on to all of these pictures and someday, maybe, I can share them with him.

Someday.

Life

Henry does most of the talking. He is so frustratingly articulate and freakishly analytical that I am completely defenseless and find myself frequently in the position of just listening. It's totally unproductive, but I don't know what else to do.

To give you an idea of what I'm up against, his favorite subject is (and always has been) physics. He qualified for MENSA and turned them down. He's also an Electrical Engineer. Matching wits with him is like bringing a straw/spitballs to an AK47 fight! LOL!

I am grateful to Henry for having always been not only constantly employed, but also for having a substantial salary. He has pretty much always sucked at chores, but he takes care of other things that more than make up for it. He sometimes works long hours, he frequently travels to work on jobs ~ sometimes for very long stretches, sometimes very far away and putting himself in danger.

A few years ago he flew for work to Germany, spending a little time in France and Italy, too. The travel status changed to high-risk, the American Consulates were saying "leave foreign countries NOW". His mom and I were begging him to get the next flight out before he was stuck there. Although he refused to fly home right away he didn't get "stuck". His mom and I could have choked him for putting us through that! LOL!

I've never doubted Henry's honesty or integrity.

Henry and I have been together for almost 11 years. Married 7 years last June. In all the years we've been together I have been, or at least it seems like, a constant patient in the health care system. Life with me has not been easy because of it. Our life with Hunter has not been easy either. Especially when we were trying to have him diagnosed. Especially the period of time I was in and out of psychiatric hospitals. Especially when Hunter and I were in different psychiatric hospitals on the opposite sides of town. Especially when I went through Electro-Convulsive Therapy and lost six months of my "life" (memories ~ present at the time and a lot of past).

Henry, it seems to me, is always "rescuing" me from something. I feel like a perpetual damsel in distress. Part of my problem with him, for a while now, is that he doesn't see me as a woman; as his lover, confidante and wife. I feel as though he is always waiting for the next catastrophe to happen so he can swoop in and rescue me again.

Intimacy used to be overflowing in our marriage. Not just sexual, but emotional, too. There was a time when I honestly and truly believed there was no way to tell where he ended and I began. I used to tell him that without him, I didn't make sense.

Our intimacy is gone. We barely speak to each other. If we touch, it's purely by accident.

I can't continue to live life like this.