I don’t think I suddenly stopped being able to remember in my thirties… I think I suddenly realised how many methods I’d relied upon to cope with a bad memory.
How many times I’d blamed alcohol for failing to remember the most simple of facts about my friends.
How many times I’d glanced at the satnav I always kept visible on the dash instead of trusting my decision making on the road ahead.
How many times I coasted through social gatherings with holding phrases and topical anecdotes until everyone had moved onto drunk conversation.
No wonder I was keen to hide behind the things I COULD do and things I DID know. It took me ages to learn new things, often down to not remembering how to do it.
This presented itself in a frustrated anxiety of nail biting, nervous laughter and the urge to tell my stories.
And the society I grew up in, encouraged it 🙄
FaerieFalls 