A Missing Month…or More

An explanation is in order.  This blog has been neglected, ignored, maybe even avoided (?), for months now.  For good reasons, mind you.  (At least I, personally, think the reasons are valid)

The truth is, this blog was forgotten. Literally.  The dissociation came and consumed us and we were somewhere else mentally (or maybe even spiritually?) and then the amnesia followed and all thoughts of this blog, of Twitter, of Facebook,  of the internet in general, ceased to exist within our mind.  There were no journal entries. There was no email activity.  No IM’s or pm’s were sent.  The K (or K’s) here before me did not realize we had access to a computer, or at least that’s the way it seems to me now.

Explaining this is an exercise in futility, but I shall try.

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I remember a birthday party…   In early August, I attended a party at a local pub.  Lots of people were there, and based upon the videos and photos I have seen, it seems as though I had a good time.  That’s the last thing we can clearly remember.   For lack of a better description, let me say that I closed my eyes while the cake was being served, and when I opened them again, it was October.  The second half of August and the entire month of September are gone.  Nonexistent in my memory.  I do not know where I was or what I was doing during this time.  Maybe I was sick, physically and/or psychologically.  It is possible I was in the hospital, but I believe Husband would have mentioned that at some point.  Maybe I was out of town.  Maybe I was working.  Maybe I was holed up in our bedroom.  I honestly have no idea whatsoever.  I have looked for evidence of the missing time.  Clues which might point us in the right direction.  But there are none.  No diary entries, no sketches, no notes, no texts on my phone, nothing.  Absolutely no proof at all that I even existed for the month of September.  Perhaps I didn’t exist.

Perhaps it was another one of my so-called “Time Traveling Incidents”.   I’m an extremely open-minded person, (How could I not be?) and I can’t help but wonder about alternate planes of existence, mirror universes, things of that nature.  My personal experience with dissociation is sometimes so indescribably bizarre that it truly feels as though I-or rather, we- are existing in a parallel reality.

I can’t tell you how unnerving something like this is.  Unless you also suffer from dissociation, or amnesia, or lost time, you cannot possibly imagine what it is like to wake up and find yourself in a different month, in a different season of the year.  I went to a party this Summer, and when I woke up “the next day”, it was close to Halloween.   Yes, I could ask questions of my spouse, but I hesitate to do so, for I don’t want him to know the truth.  I don’t want him to be upset or worried in any way.  I think he would definitely be concerned if he knew that I lost more than a whole month’s worth of time and memories, just like that, and it would do no good to freak him out by revealing our secret.  Plus, in all honesty, I’m embarrassed.  Silly me!  Embarrassed by something which I have no iota of control over.   Humiliated by a medical condition.  How stupid I am. 

I did tell my psychiatrist about the lost time.  She already suspected that we had dissociated and “disappeared”, for she informed us at my visit this week that I’d vanished for quite some time.  She said I didn’t show up for any of my appointments, nor did I call her office or answer her messages, for over 2 months.  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been to see her; I struggled to remember any of our therapy sessions at all.  After an hour of questions, to which I had no real answers, she gently suggested that hospitalization might be in order.  I scoffed at the idea.  I tried to tell her that I was in no danger, that I had lost a good bit of time but that no harm had come of it, and that I didn’t need to be admitted because I was finally back!  She just doesn’t seem to get it.  When I was gone, well that would’ve been the time for hospitalization.  But now I’m back.  I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now….  I don’t know how to start again, how to pick up where I left off, how to start living again….  Hell, I can’t really be sure what it is we do here, what role we play in this household, but for now, I’m back.   I can’t even say for certain whether or not it feels good to be back, for I can’t recall what it felt like before now.   Does any of this even make sense?  Probably not.  But I need to say it.  I don’t know why, I just know it’s important that I say it out loud…while we still remember.

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