Wednesday, November 29, 2017

Check available storage space.

One of the most annoying messages I get on my stupid phone is the "check available storage" meaning my phone storage is full. Which, I don't understand it because I have less than 20 pictures, all my music is in the stupid cloud and I have hardly any apps.

Sigh. A problem for another day.

But it reminds me of how my brain works differently now. For the last year I have heard countless times that I only have so much working memory, so much space to put stuff into because once that's full, I'll start forgetting things. It's my brain's way of making room for new stuff, but it doesn't differentiate between stuff I need to keep and just useless stuff. I will be the first to tell you I am my harshest critic, I give myself no slack, no grace, and if you could hear the things I say to myself when I hit a road block- you would cry yourself to sleep.

Nobody, and I mean nobody, can put me down better than I can. I have done it for years, I am an absolute professional when it comes to being cruel to myself. I know my flaws before you do. I know my short comings, every reason I am a terrible person, daughter, wife, mom, friend, neighbor, etc. I can list a hundred things I should be doing better because frankly, there is no excuse not to. Brain injury? Stop being a baby. Physical limitations? You're being a pussy. You died? Yeah, everyone dies. BIG DEAL.

Trust me, I am far harder on myself than I should be, but it's the one thing that's remain the same. The only thing that makes me feel like me. It makes me feel like there's at least one thing that hasn't changed, that hasn't failed me.

I know it's messed up. I can't help it.

I've found that my inner voice is now coming out to people who don't deserve it. Well, I suppose sometimes they do and I've always tampered it down but that filter is fully gone now. I'm rude because my anxiety is through the roof and I just want to hurry up and get out of there as fast as I possibly can and go home. Then I get here and I wish I could leave because I feel like my spirit is dying more and more every day.

But the biggest thing I've noticed is my inability to give a damn. People tell me stories, things happening, whatever and I used to be able to care. Really care. I would think about what I could do to help, or how I could ease the burden for my friend, I'd bank the information so I can use it later as a random act of kindness. I could fake it better than any actress and it was OK because it made people feel good that someone was listening to them.

I can't do any of that anymore.

More than once I've had to tell people "Please stop talking. Really. I'm not listening, I don't care, I can't fill my head up with this crap.". I really don't mean to be rude, it feels like an act of self preservation at this point. I'm trying so hard to get my memory to improve, losing valuable information every day is terrifying. I want to be social but a lot of times I really can't. I just can't do it.

Cue feelings of guilt and anger, the internal voice describing all of the way I'm awful, and my depression deepens. I'm faking it every day. I'm trying really hard to keep it together. I'm grateful, I just can't keep everything afloat. I feel like I'm drowning for the sake of keeping everything else out of the water.

Honestly, I don't know if this is going to get better. I'm not hopeful. I'm doing the therapy. I'm taking the medications. I'm going to all of my appointments. I'm doing everything I need to be doing. It feels like it's all for nothing.


Ruth said...

I swear to God, sometimes reading your blog is like reading a female version of my husband. Do you know how many times he has told me that he really doesn't care about____? And it might make him heartless, but he just doesn't. Many time he tells me or my daughter, "I don't care what you do". Deep down I know he doesn't mean he doesn't care at all, but lots of times it kinda feels that way. He says when he is honest people take it wrong. The people that matter are going to accept that this is who you are. If they can't, poop on 'em.

The Flynnigans said...

I’ve no brain injury but I can put myself down the worst (the best?) and I’ve no reason other than I’m fucked up.
Always thinking of you and your struggles. Al of my shit is so minuscule compared to your daily struggle. :(
*hugs* xoxo