What Were We Talking About?

I want to tell you a story.  I really do.  However, there’s a problem.  My indecisiveness is overbearing-I can’t choose the story.  Not only are there more choices running around in my head than I could ever chase down and dissect, but I just can’t seem to focus long enough to finish an entire tale anyway.  My concentration is non-existent right now.  In fact, I can forget what I’m saying in the middle of a sentence.  I can’t keep track…my mind is jumping around this way and that way.  I’m plagued by memory issues, as you know, and this indecision is made worse by this fact (by the time the waiter has told me the specials, I’ve forgotten them and thus can’t decide). This is something that I have to deal with on more days than not.  It’s unbelievably frustrating to forget the subject of a conversation shortly after the talking begins, but that is my reality for much of my waking life.  How do I handle these instances?  Well, first and foremost,  we always make it a point to say something about how bad my memory is, so that it doesn’t come as much of a shock to the people I’m talking to. (and if I happen to be in a situation where drugs and/or alcohol are in use, then that is a convenient excuse which I often give)  Anyone who knows me well can tell you how they’ve had to repeat things to me,  until they are fed up with me asking.  It’s true, I ask the same questions over and over again, but I truly cannot remember asking before then, much less remember the answers to these questions.  That’s just more than I can manage.  Most anything is difficult to remember.  ANYTHING.  Add to that our lack of concentration, and you’ll find that I’m pretty much screwed.

I have to write things down, literally, or I will forget them. Everything.  Even simple everyday tasks that must be done by every person on the planet-things like eating and sleeping-are difficult for me to remember.  I will very often forget to eat, and when I lived alone I would sometimes go a few days without food; I’d eat once the emptiness in my stomach turned to actual pain.  Feeling empty is something I’m used to-I have an eating disorder and rarely eat so it’s not uncommon for me to be hungry.  But the pain, well the pain will make me eat.  Same goes for sleep.  I can forget to sleep, and I’ll just continue about my business until I get so exhausted that I’ll just pass out for hours on end.  I don’t know why I can’t get myself on some sort of schedule, which would indicate when it’s time for me to eat and sleep.  I guess the reason this won’t work is because I have no sense of time.  I can’t tell when it’s morning or evening.  It all feels the same to me, I often don’t know if it’s A.M. or P.M. without looking out the window.

Damn.  I just read what I’ve written and it seems I’ve veered off course.  The subject was supposed to be  lack of concentration.  Hmm.  I guess getting off topic actually helps illustrate my point though…  I can’t focus long enough to finish my train of thought.  I have to rewrite sentences, even whole paragraphs, because I am all over the place with my thoughts.  I just cannot concentrate.  I can’t do it.  I try and try….but it’s just not happening.  This is infuriating at times, and it certainly affects my quality of life.  I love to read, and to escape into a book…but with my lack of concentration, I’m unable to read much anymore and that makes me very sad.  I still try to read of course, as I’m hungry for knowledge as well as escapism, but it’s exhausting; I have to reread every page several times just to absorb the information.  Often, I get stuck on one sentence, and I’ll read it dozens of times, but can’t make any sense of it.  I simply can’t focus. I can’t think clearly.  It’s impossible.  Now this does not apply to all of the K’s.  The smartest ones can read quite well and do so with a voracious appetite.  But today, at this moment, I am here, and I simply cannot concentrate for any period of time.

I don’t even know if this rambling mess constitutes a blog post.  I can’t tell if this is cohesive in any way.  I can’t tell if I’ve actually said anything I really don’t know.  I just know that I have this urge to write, this compelling energy burning inside me which is trying to move my fingers around on the keyboard, but I don’t know what to type.  I’m dying to write, to empty my overflowing head, to get these thoughts out of my mind!  Damn.  This memory loss fucking blows.  I can’t remember what I wanted to talk about.  Shit!  Did I already talk about it?  (sigh) I really need a personal assistant…

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