The Corner Of My Mind

I have found – to my dismay – that my memory is not the true ally that I once believed it to be. Instead of supporting me in the many ways in which it should, it fails me on a regular basis. As if that weren’t enough, it also taunts me by recalling perfectly the most unimportant and/or irrelevant information at the most inopportune moments. (A classic example: When asked what my phone number is, I might not be able to recall exactly what it is but can easily rattle off – say – Jon Bon Jovi’s birthdate.)

There are a couple of theories that I’ve tossed about in my mind in regards to this disturbing mental decline. The first – of course – is that age is the root of this trouble. Unfortunately, 30 isn’t the typical age for the onset of dementia or Alzheimer’s – the two most likely causes. A second possible cause is a serious illness. This is supported by other symptoms that have afflicted me from time to time (headaches, fatigue, muscle pains, etc…) Unfortunately (or VERY fortunately) it is not supported by any medical evidence. A third option: Stress. This one is difficult to rule out, so I shan’t. Finally, I have also considered that it’s possible that there is limited space in my mental memory cabinet, and that the type of work that I do/life that I lead exceeds the capacity. I need to upgrade, but I have yet to determine how to do so.

I am tormented by the decline of my facilities on a daily basis. Just this week, I began listening to a book on CD – something that I frequently do when traveling. This particular book had struck me as a bit familiar when I picked it out at the library, and I even paused to consider whether or not I had already heard it. Since I was uncertain, I checked it out. From the moment that I started listening, I knew that I had already heard this book. The worst part – however – is that I STILL can’t recall it. Every word that comes out of the narrator’s mouth is recognized (oh yes, my mind says… NOW I remember that…) but I am unable to predict even ONE sentence ahead. This is SUCH a disturbing feeling that I am forcing myself to re-listen to the entire book as punishment.

The bizarreness of this situation is the fact that my memory recalls certain material brilliantly. I can often recite conversations verbatim, and have never been the sort of person who struggles to connect names to faces. I can remember facts concerning the development of the Twinkie, but can’t remember the plots of 50% of the books that I’ve read. I might be able to tell you the names of every Labrador Retriever I’ve ever met, but wouldn’t be sure of what I did on any given birthday. This is – obviously – another one of Nature’s jokes.

As for what to do about this, I’m undecided. (This is code for “I can’t figure out what to do – or what can even be done, but am unwilling to concede this”.) I once had an idea about it – based on a book that I read – but the exact advice dispensed has slipped my mind. If only I could remember the name of that book…