I wish more than anything that I had a tool that would record my thoughts as I cross over into sleep. I know without any doubt that every night I write in my mind the most beautiful and most profound statements, so far above those I actually write here. Before someone suggests that I take a note pad with me and writing the best of them down, well that would mean pulling myself back to awake, somewhere I’m really happy to not be at that point in my day. Strangely although I don’t remember them well enough to write them in the morning, I know with no doubt that they existed in my thoughts clear, precise and so elegant in their phrasing that I repeat them over and over again, trying to etch them on my mind and 99% of the time, they vanish, or at the least leave an incomplete shadow that won’t pull the original back into focus. Writing can at times really be a trial as I want so much to be able to say everything clearly and in ways that no one can fail to not just understand but feel. Sometime I know I do but at others, well even I reread and sit here wondering what was behind those strange words.
Descriptive writing and words are the core of what I require for what I do here, but although I am putting down words that to me describe it clearly, to another it may make no sense at all. Take something as simple as a headache and ask 10 people to describe one and you will find so many different words being used for the exact same thing. Even levels of pain fall into the same strange hole of personal opinion, your level 10 pain and mine may be miles apart, level 10 is supposed to be the worst pain there is, but you and I have in our lives not experienced the same pains on which to base this, a child might think they are dieing when they break an arm, but there are far worse pains ahead of them in life. At night though, I often do come up with those gems, the phrases I have such belief in that I at the time I have no doubt I will remember, it is perfect, how could I not. Last night I know was one of those nights, I was lain there as always on my back with my hands far enough away from my body so they can’t twitch and wake me, all I described the other day about having to control my breathing, as that gave me control of the discomfort around my ribs and down a few inches below them. The side effect of that is well known, that process of measuring each breath and being fixed on their length and depth, helps you to go to sleep, as I was counting them through I suddenly also knew that I could explain that sensation that causes so much discomfort, I just wish I could remember it right now.
I know that I loose millions of thoughts through out everyday, and I have no way of capturing them, some are for right here in my blog, other are things I want to talk to Adam about. They form, I adjust them, add to them and polish them, ready to be never ever used as once perfect they are gone. Even what I write about here vanishes, it may be half an hour after writing that I schedule the tweets to go with it, but I haven’t the slightest idea what I wrote about and have to come back and read it to find out, but this is the exception to the rule, here there is a record. These losses in many ways aren’t important but the more they happen, the more they are becoming important to me. It isn’t the forgetting that is getting me twisted and distressed, it is the fact I had something clearly important enough for time to go into it, for suddenly all record of my words to be gone, wasted, lost for ever. There is this strong feeling within me that I have so much to say, to so many different people and with my mind discarding things constantly, my chance of ever being able to do all I thought there was time ahead of me to do, is also vanishing. I have no idea as does anyone else how many years of life I have still to live, but those years don’t matter, what matters is how many years I have with a brain that functions well enough to fulfill the things I need to, not just for others but for myself.
I can live easily finding myself in a room with no idea why I am there, but finding myself looking inside constantly for all those things that have vanished into some tiny corner of my mind or vanished completely, well that is so much harder. Through out my diagnosed years I have said the same thing over and over to anyone that will listen, my body can betray me in anyway it chooses, I will find a way of managing, but my mind betraying me, is not bearable in any way at all. Slowly it is built up to a point where I am loosing almost as much as I create, I also know that some of you will be wondering how if I can’t remember how do I know it is missing. That’s simple, I can look a back over any day and know what I was doing, my scheduled tell me that, timings tell me if I was distracted, and distraction usually means thoughts. Before sleep both afternoon and night there is always a space for thought, if I can’t remember what they were they have to have vanished. Add on the feeling of exuberance in knowing I have something great, well the exuberance remains as a shadow, a knowledge of something great but the great thing is missing. Every time it happens I know I have lost something, maybe more important to me than to anyone else but it kind of hurts. I think it hurts because I know that it means I am loosing that bit of control, I have enough things in my life that are out of my control, but this one is growing faster than the rest at the moment and I simply don’t like it.