Today at work, I opened a program on my computer that I swear on my life I have never seen before.
Yet I had a login and password saved which autofilled indicating that I have.
Today I was trained in work that I have never done before.
Yet the procedures written to teach others how to do this have my name on them, indicating that I was a damn fucking expert at some stage writing the training materials.
I hate this.
I hate having to try and explain it over and over again when I don’t even understand it myself.
I hate the rolly eyes when I just give up and say I had a couple of strokes and this shit happens.
I hate that someone will invariably point out that I learned something new only last week or that I remember how to do so and so.
So I should remember how to do everything else.
I hate that they infer that I am selective in what I remember or worse still, lazy.
Or that this happens to them all the time and I just have to concentrate more.
Or shouldn’t I be over it now?
I hate that I automatically pretend that there is nothing wrong, making it so much harder on myself when I can’t take any more.
When the fog descends and my brain shuts down and I get to the car park and can’t remember how to drive.
Or simple words elude me.
I feel the shame burning on my cheeks.
Embarrassment that I can’t remember simple tasks.
Humiliation when I recall one thing but not another.
Tears of frustration sting my eyes.
I don’t want people to feel sorry for me.
I don’t want pity or even sympathy.
Fuck, I don’t even want special treatment.
I want the brain cells back that the strokes stole from me, I want a magic pill that will cure the PTSD or at least restrict the effects to a couple of hours every other Sunday.
I want the old me back.
Is that too much to ask?
EDITED TO ADD: This is not just about my work colleagues… it’s about friends and family, service workers and teachers. But I would also like to point out that there are some wonderful understanding people – even at my workplace that get it.