Thursday, May 29, 2014

The Day of Forgetting

By DAAN HEERMA VAN VOSS, NYT
May 28, 2014 6:35 pm

I was 25 when I lost my memory. It happened on Jan. 16, 2012. I woke up, not knowing where I was. I was lying in bed, sure, but whose bed was it? There was no one in the room, no sound that I recognized: I was alone with my body.

Of course, my relationship to my body was radically different than before. My body parts seemed to belong to someone else or, rather, to something else. The vague sense of identity that I possessed was confined to the knowledge of my name, but even that felt arbitrary — a collection of random letters, crumbling. No words can accurately describe the feeling of losing your memory, your life.

Underlying the loss of facts is a deeper problem: the loss of logic and causality. A person can function, ask questions, only when he recognizes a fundamental link between circumstances and time, past and present. The links between something happening to you, leading you to do or say something, which leads to someone else responding. No act is without an act leading up to it, no word is without a word that came before.

(More here.)

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