Moving with brain fog…

This is not the first time I’ve moved or even the second. I used to have it down pat. I’d pack like with like, starting with infrequently used items, then moving on to the things more commonly used. Food gets packed last.

I honestly thought I was following the same rules as every other time. Box after box piled up in my room and I remained confident that when the movers showed up on the 5th, I would be totally ready.

My first day here found me panicking at lunch time. I wanted to make a bowl of soup and had finally unearthed the pot but couldn’t find the can opener. Was it in a box still? Did I leave it behind in Oshawa? I called Colin and, sure enough, I had left it there. I knocked on the door across the hall and thankfully the neighbour had already unpacked his can opener and was willing to lend it to me.

I went to bed that night and suddenly realized I had left all my corningware in the shelves above the fridge at the old place. No problem. I was going to Oshawa the next day anyway and sleeping over at a friends’ apartment. I’d take my bundle buggy and put the corningware on the bottom and my clothes and pillow on the top. Except by the time I found everything, my buggy was full to the brim and my sleepover stuff was in two garbage bags. Luckily my Mom drove me home the next day because there was no way I could carry everything.

Colin called me this morning to inform me I left the blade of my blender back at the apartment. The freaking blade! I bought that blender two years ago when I came into some unexpected money. The blender was $200! So I’m going back tomorrow to do a bit more painting and to collect yet more stuff.

I’m making curry for dinner tonight. The recipe calls for white wine vinegar which, whoops is also in Oshawa, and it’s served over rice. I decided to skip the vinegar but the rice was needed. So I went to the next door neighbour this time instead of across the hall and thankfully he had rice.

When I’m in Oshawa tomorrow I need to remember theĀ  blender blade and the handful of groceries I bought last time I was there. Yep, I forgot them too.

I am so glad that Colin’s moving out after me because I would have lost so much… so many things I’d either forgotten about entirely or thought I’d already packed.

This place has senior subsidies, hopefully I’ll never have to move again. I don’t think my nerves could handle it!

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My curry tonight, sans white wine vinegar but plus the borrowed rice

Brain fog…

52309278_1026323154226556_4421792483340451840_nI was on the phone with my Mom when it happened.

“Mom? Can we stop off at Loblaws on the way home tomorrow? I just need to pick up a couple of things.”

There was a long pause then my Mom replied, “Kath, you already asked me this and I already told you yes.”

Yet another conversation that had vanished into the mists. One of many.

I place everything I can into my phone’s calendar and I check that at least once a day. But not everything fits a calendar. Too many things disappear… too many things I want to remember.

I’ll be in the middle of a thought and suddenly the front part of what I was thinking is gone without a trace. So I’m stuck with the back end… and I watch as it dissolves until nothing is left. Not a single trace.

This happens several times a day, it’s not just conversations that get sucked into the void. It’s an emotionally painful situation as it hurts my children to know that I’ve forgotten what they said but it’s a situation that’s out of my control. No matter how hard I listen, some things just don’t sink in.

I told my psychiatrist what’s been happening memory wise so he’s cutting out my evening clonazepam, which makes sense although I don’t know how it’s going to affect my sleep. I already struggle with fear and anxiety when it comes to bedtime (and going back to sleep in the middle of the night). I’m not sure what sleep will be like without the clonazepam.

I go about my days as best I can. I was going to make hot and sour soup for dinner tonight but, whoops, I forgot to buy soft tofu so I’m making pizza instead. At least I have all those ingredients. The cats eat when I do so I don’t forget about them, not that they’d let me anyways. And chores get done as I see them, or get written in a “to do” book.

It scares me. What if it’s early onset Alzheimer’s or dementia? My psychiatrist doesn’t think it is but dementia runs in the family. I don’t want to watch myself slowly dissolve away. At least brain fog isn’t actively destroying my brain.

And, for the ultimate in irony, I’ve forgotten the rest of what I was going to say. I’m going to have to plan out my blog posts in point form from now on so this doesn’t happen again. But, damn, it couldn’t have happened to a more appropriate post. Hopefully I haven’t written about this before (edited to add, yes, I’ve written about this twice in the past month or two and forgot about both times).

Now my foggy thoughts and I are off to make pizza. Wish me luck!

Fading memory…

I had a great introduction to my blog but I’ve forgotten it. Which has got to be the most unfunny joke ever but it’s also so very real. Sometimes I feel like my life is fraying. I’ll think something and then it’s gone. Or I’ll be in the middle of a thought and the beginning disappears, then the end is gone and I’m left wondering what happened.

Depression and anxiety are what happened. One thing I discovered is that permanent memory loss can be caused simply by having a major depressive episode. Depression and anxiety also cause memory loss simply because you can’t focus. If you can’t focus, you can’t remember what’s going on. And, of course, meds cause memory loss too.

Memory loss is so frustrating. I’ll have a conversation with my kids and I feel like I’m right there listening intently. It feels right. Then we get off the phone (or leave the room) and the conversation is gone, or most of it at least. I watch anime shows with Colin and forget the plot completely, making the next episode that much more interesting. And I’m routinely saying, “Wait! I had a thought! Let me see if I can get it back again.” Sometimes that works and sometimes it doesn’t. And we all get frustrated, the kids because “Mom’s not listening” and me because I was listening as hard as I could and everything disappeared anyway.

Then there’s the elephant in the room… dementia. When does this switch from depressive memory loss to dementia? I don’t do odd things like put my keys in the sugar bowl and my psychiatrist isn’t worried so I guess I should stop worrying too, although it not quite that easy.

Yesterday I lay down for a short nap. I’d just fallen asleep when my phone rang. It was my psychiatrist’s secretary wanting to know if I could come in for a cancellation appointment an hour after my nap ended. I’d have plenty of time to do both so I changed my calendar and lay down. I dozed for a bit when I woke then spent some time petting our oldest cat. That was when my notification went off saying my appointment was in 15 minutes. What appointment? I didn’t see my psychiatrist for half a week. Then the second notification buzzed and I remembered the call. I don’t think I’ve left the apartment that quickly ever. I was speed walking down the sidewalk, calling and calling his office. They called me back at the bus stop then assured me there was a second cancellation at 3:40pm and I could be booked into that one, which was a relief. But, it shows again how my memory’s shot. I put everything in my phone calendar lately and check it several times a day. I can’t just wing it, if I don’t write it down, it’s gone.

My doctor’s slowly weaning me off clonazepam to see if my memory improves and my brain fog lessens. I’ve been eating well and going for regular walks in the hopes of improving my brain too. Now to see if my memory improves.

Lara sleeping like a people

If having cats improved memory, I’d be a mental wizard

Saying goodbye to the old me…

It was Easter dinner last night and I had the menu all planned out. The previously frozen tofu was thawed and marinating in pickle brine. All I needed to do was peel and chop potatoes for fries then make the sauce for the broccoli before cutting the veggie into bite sized pieces. Oh and get the fries and broccoli into the oven to bake and dredge the tofu in a garlic powder and flour mixture and fry the tofu…

You get the picture. I’d hoped to make brownies too but I was struggling even with the thought of prepping the tofu. The veggies were overwhelming. So I ended up slicing up a tomato and an orange instead of prepping veggies. That way I wouldn’t end up curled up in the fetal position on the kitchen floor. Been there… done that… don’t want to do it again.

food prepI miss me. I miss the woman who could happily spend the day prepping meals then go on to read or write for a couple of hours. This picture’s from Facebook where I captioned it:

I spent all day cooking! I made apple sauce (apple, cherry, and nectarine sauce to be precise), chocolate pudding, fudgesicles, pizza dough, two different soups (lentil and broccoli-cauliflower), four loaves of banana bread, chocolate covered cherries, spaghetti sauce, almond cheese, and cashew cheese. Now it’s time for me to have a bubble bath, read a book, and relax before bedĀ 

I struggle so much. I had to listen to two songs already just so I could be relaxed enough to write and I’m contemplating watching a third one. So many things I could handle with ease a couple of years ago, I can’t handle now. I get overwhelmed with shopping and will have to apologize to Colin because I just can’t handle one more store and the bus ride home too.

I used to curl up to read and finish (or almost finish) a novel. Now I’m lucky to get through a chapter. And I’m finding sleep getting harder and harder. My heart pounds… I feel short of breath. You’d think I was in a horror movie instead of my own safe bed. The past two days have found me listening to music in my swing chair in the wee hours of the morning, too anxious to sleep. It helps but it means I’m losing about two hours of sleep a night and I’m already needing an early afternoon nap so I can make it to evening.

I have brain fog. So much brain fog. People tell me things and I forget almost immediately, no matter how hard I try to remember them. I forget what I was saying as I’m speaking. I even forget what I’m thinking. I check my calendar multiple times a day, just in case I’m missing something. Sometimes I am and, luckily, I’ve found it before I was late. I signed up for free massages at Carea and completely and utterly forgot about them. Like I had no idea I’d even signed up, in writing, for one session let alone two. It was a pleasant surprise but still disconcerting. I am so thankful for reminder calls and texts.

The old me was lively and outgoing. She cheered people up and customers used to comment that her smile and friendly wave brightened their day. The old me carried around a notebook and wrote novel excerpts on the bus and quickly typed them out at home. The old me could hold a conversation that wasn’t online.

I’ve been autistic my whole life but the depression and anxiety ripped off my masks and I haven’t been able to find them again. I rock and sway regularly, listen to the same songs over and over (and over). Bounce in my swing chair to settle down. I have meltdowns when things aren’t going the way I thought and the world’s suddenly strange and different. Even though it really isn’t, it’s just my perception.

It’s weird to be mourning myself when I’m still here. But, in a way I’m not, there are so many differences between the old me and the new me, it’s like I’m a whole new person. I guess all I can really do is get to learn who the new me is and try to like her.

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