It's Monday Already

I don't remember what I did this weekend.
Have I ever told you what my depression medication does to my memory?

It squashes it.

My poor co-worker is used to it.
"Did I just vacuum that rug?"
"Did I tell you to get the dry cleaning? Did I actually say it out loud or just think it?"
"Have you seen my Windex?"

I ask my husband, "Have we been here before?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."

I have no recollection of it.

I can look at a scripture and stare at it and repeat it in my mind and write it down and even take a picture of it.

I won't remember it.

It is very very very frustrating. The good news is that I get out of bed each day and I'm able to function like a normal person. Most days anyway.

So I guess I'll keep taking my medicine and deal with the side effects.

On Saturday I went to Scooters. And then to work. And then....everything else is kind of a blur. I felt so sad and out of sorts.

It feels like I am starting all over again with the grieving process. I feel raw again. I have heard this happens but I didn't actually believe it would HAPPEN. This backtracking.

I made this pie on Saturday. Or was it Sunday?
I'm not sure.

When I'm out of sorts, the structure of baking helps. Even though I have to look at the recipe four hundred times.

Sometimes I have to repeat the measurements in my mind over and over again.

1/2 cup, 1/2 cup, 1/2 cup.

Sometimes that doesn't work and I still have to look again.

But that's OK.