Going Quietly Mad?

It seems, sometimes, as if the mind, and one’s control of it and its functions, is a fragile thing. I was just pouring myself a glass of wine (now there’s an novelty!) and thinking about things I had promised myself I would do today, or this week, and I was able to recall two of them, with some difficulty, and on the journey into this room, to sit here and write this, I have forgotten one of them. I think I need to go to the chemist tomorrow – I think I do – and possibly I need to do something else, but it’s gone now.

It seems like my brain isn’t coping. Or is it my mind? Maybe both.

It seems like I have all these different tasks and occasions and events now (I say now, meaning over the last almost three years) with the advent of a partner and so on – but I doubt that’s even true. There are more procedural, formal, boring, tick the box, make a list sort of things – like my magnesium is running out or the dogs’ food is getting low – and these things aren’t fun, and I’m forgetting about them, in some deep recess of my knowledge hub, on purpose. Which feels like I’m forgetting things more. I don’t think I actually am forgetting more: it’s just that some part of my body is being faced with more unpleasant obligations and plans and is automatically rejecting the unpleasantness which can be associated with these planning, and life ordering processes.

Or something.

And my grip on reality – or the ability to perceive it – could be waning but it probably isn’t. I’m tired and make mistakes and feel like a dill, but it has not proved to be a difficult thing to maintain a link with fine details of betting on sporting competitions and keeping up with pre-season rugby league training news. Because I want to do those things. Actually, I don’t really want to do that. I’d like a few days, or a few months, off.

In which case, I’m lazy. But that doesn’t help. I need to laze.

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Published in: on November 10, 2010 at 7:16 pm  Leave a Comment  

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