Visual Anchors
So, life, the past coule of weeks, had been interesting. My yungest son, Logan, moved back home. The same weekend, a friend of mine, who used to work for the same copany I did, moved back to Tampa, from New York. He is sharing the apartment with Logan and me, splitting the bills 3 ways, which makes things easier. Paul, however, having not seen me since the strokes, noticed some things are different about me.
Mainly, he's noticed that my mind is not the "steel trap" that it used to be. I get flustred easily because I forget things, can't find things, or have no memory of things being said or happening. So, he asked me what that was al about. I explained that I "live life 1 room at a time." Whatever happens or is said in one room of the house, or any particular place, cannot be accessed as a memory until I come bck to that location. Everything has a visual anchor for me. Without them, I am totally lost.
That is when I realized exactly how true that was for me. We bought new livingroom furniture in Septmber of last year. Thinking back, very hard, I can't remember anything that happened at home before last September. I haven't been to the old office in almost a year. I don't remember anyting of what I used to do there now. Perhaps, if I walked back into my old office, I might remember something, but I can't even remember the names of people I used to work with, even those I worked with for years, except Paul, my now roommate and Tim, whom I see socially almost every other week. Everything else is just gone. There is a big hole where that entire part of my life used to be.
Which makes me understand why, when it came down to days before I was supposed to give up my apartment and move in with a friend, I was in a blind panic not to do it. Had I moved in with her, all of my things would have been placed in storage. That means all of my visual anchors to my memories would have been gone and I would have been totally lost. I've even come to realize that I wear the exact same jewlery on the same hands/wrists as visual anchors. I can remember things that happened while I was out and about when I look at my ring, watch or bracelet. Without them, I'm at a loss.
Without the big, red leather sofa, my chins cabnet, the chineese lantern over my bed, the microwave/pizza oven, or the artwork my grandmother made, I would have no way of sparking a memory of the things that go on in my life. That is frightening. What happens the day those things are not there?
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