Nurtured Words

Hello my amnesia,

We have only become acquainted properly on my birthday last year, I saw you, in black and white, and let me tell you, you were a gift. We both know you have been there since I was five, that fateful day.

You came to me, wanting to protect me. To save me from my sorrow and my despair. I’m glad you did, because you helped me survive. I don’t know when it happened precisely, maybe at fifteen, but you changed. You made my life a haze, easily forgetful in general. But then, you controlled what I remembered. In flight, you took my memories as swift as a swan. You came evermore frequent, with no aim. You just scurried scrupulously. I now call you my blanks.

Because, that’s all the last few years are. Blank.

I know you mean well, you’re so gentle in taking me away, it is not malicious, I understand. You’re scared and don’t know what should be taken away anymore, you’re confused.

Please know I’m not mad, or frustrated, and I know what is taken cannot be given back. So I accept you, you are here every day, doing what you feel is necessary. I’m still learning to live alongside you. I am still learning to trust myself. I am holding on to what I can, I guess I’ll just have to journal more and take more photos. I found a lovely journalling technique that I can do to help me remember days. You are precious to me, and do you want to know why? It’s because you helped me survive and become who I am. I don’t want to romanticise because you’re not easy, but you allowed me to find my missing pieces and helped me see beyond my memory, thinking my memory was all of me. It’s not. I accept you, I appreciate your help. I just hope there comes a time when you lessen your needs, to focus on my needs instead. For now, I will meet my own needs.

Take care, leanne x