Memory is a funny thing — mostly because if I don’t laugh about it, I’ll cry and forget why I was crying.
After a brain injury, memory has this sneaky way of disappearing mid-thought. I can literally forget what I’m doing as I’m doing it. It’s like my brain hits the “delete” button before I even finish typing the sentence.
People without brain injuries often try to comfort me by saying things like, “Oh, I forget stuff all the time too!” That’s nice — but forgetting where you parked your car isn’t quite the same as forgetting you own a car. Sure, we all misplace keys or walk into a room wondering why we’re there. The difference is, I can do that... and then forget I did it.
Brain injury memory issues are like normal forgetfulness on steroids — or maybe on decaf. Either way, it’s unpredictable. I can remember where I sat 23 years ago at a random restaurant and exactly what I ordered (Lasagna, in case you’re wondering). But an hour after breakfast, I’ll stare at the dishes wondering, Who ate this?
The frustrating part is not being able to choose what I remember. I’d love a mental filing system where I could drag and drop memories into “Keep” or “Trash.” But with a brain injury, the system crashes every time I try. So I end up remembering the TV show I watched last week but not the conversation I had last night. People think I’m joking when I say that — I’m not. I wish I could control which memories stick and which vanish into the great abyss of “Where Did That Thought Go?”
If I could pick a superpower, it would be to remember to forget — especially the stuff that hurts. The trauma, the triggers, the memories that kick my anxiety into overdrive. Because brain injuries aren’t just a test of memory — they’re a test of strength. And believe me, this is not a membership anyone signs up for.
I sometimes imagine there’s a magical pill out there that could just… poof! rewind me to my old self. But that’s not how this works. Life isn’t a fairytale; it’s more like an ‘80s sitcom — unpredictable, a little ridiculous, and sometimes weirdly profound. You take the good, you take the bad, you take them both, and yeah… there you have the facts of life.
And as strange as it sounds, there are positives to this invisible injury. I know what you’re thinking — “How could that be?” Well, when life hands you lemons, you can either make lemonade… or suck on them and make funny faces. (I’ve done both, for the record.)
If I had to sum it all up in one word, it would be “interesting.”
Because that’s what life becomes when your brain rewires itself — unpredictable, challenging, funny in unexpected ways, and still, somehow, beautiful.