Living, Laughing, Loving, Learning

I seem to walk around in a fog quite often. It has been more than a year now that these “episodes” as I call them have been taking place. Truthfully, I could barely keep in mind what the entire push, unmedicated ones feel just like. I have already been drugged now for quite some time. I feel them still, persistently refusing to lay down and be quiet, instead popping up at the most random moments. As a location, a bite to eat into my mouth.

As I bend over to tuck the bedding in while making the bed. Rinsing the dishes. Shaving my hip and legs. Suddenly, my brain is merely somewhere else. I could hear people around me still. The more drugs they put me on, the shorter and weaker these episodes get, and the more likely I am to have the ability to respond. But honestly, Personally I think like I GO else somewhere.

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Andy phone calls it my trip into the Matrix, and I guess this is the best way to spell it out it really. I am transported back to a memory space Usually. Usually it is a real memory – it is sometimes from a book I’ve read, and not really something I’ve experienced. But, they may be so random.

Childhood. Teen years. Books that I even keep in mind the story collection from barely. A couple of days ago I was asking Andy if he remembered the motel room we stayed in on our drive out to CA that was shaped weird, like a triangle almost. He said, “Yes, sort of. What about it.” “Nothing,” I replied, “I used to be just ‘there’ recently and wanted to find out if you remembered it at all.” One night. Not important, not eventful. A stop on our way to CA Just, eight years back.

Why was I “transported” there? I have been thinking about heading from the meds. I am tired of being tired. Of being in a haze. Yesterday, reminding me of an activity I got a letter from my grandmother, and the deadline for this – she speaks of it as if I should find out about it.

I am absolutely clueless. I have been told probably. I used to be probably part of the discussion about any of it. I have no memory Yet. This happens if you ask me a whole lot. You would believe my grandmother would be the main one who is spam, right? She is as clear as a bell and strong minded as ever.