I Forget

   
   December.....no wait.  It's August.  It happens all the time.  You would think the weather would be a clue.  But when I was taking notes in church this morning and starting with the date, I started to write December.  Ugh.
   'Mom.  We just discussed this last week.'  I start trying to place the conversation and I can't even remember talking to him last week.  But I don't want him to think I don't care so I try really hard to catch up quickly on the subject at hand.  Responding as appropriately as I possibly can, but getting a funny look and knowing I'm probably way off.
     'Oh yeah.  You showed me those pictures yesterday.  That's great though!'  Less than 24 hours prior and I don't have a clue.  We talked?  About this?  I try all day but I just can't remember.  I could manufacture the conversation but I can't remember it.
     Now before you diagnose me with Alzheimer's or think I'm just plain rude, let me tell you that I have thought of both those things and quite a few things in between already.  Then I remembered something. Yes, I said it.  I remembered.
     What did we do before we had the Internet to tell us how to get where we were going, what we needed to eat, read, and what was wrong with us?  Of course that's where I went.  And, sure enough, there it was.  PTSD.
     Just when I think I'm getting away from those letters, they hit me again.  And one of the symptoms is short term memory loss.  But it's not just the loss of a conversation here and there.  Some days I can't remember what season it is!  Did we just have Christmas or is it coming soon?  I'm cold....is it because the air conditioning is too low or because it's winter?  I really don't know without stopping and thinking.
     Sometimes there's a little panic that accompanies the confusion.  I mean, if Christmas is here already, I've got a lot to do!  And, until I realized PTSD was the memory culprit, I wasn't sure if there might be something more serious going on.
     Not that PTSD isn't serious.  Boy, do I know it is.  There are days I hurt all over from it.  I can feel it trying to come out my arms like sweat through the pores except it's painful.  Yep.  That's another thing it does.  I'm tired of PTSD.
     So here's the deal.  I know God did not give this to me.  He gives us a sound mind.  And PTSD is certainly not sound mind material.  But you know what else I know?  He works all things together for my good even with this.
     For now I will keep on trusting.  Keep on believing.  Keep on praying.  And occasionally panic when triggered or thinking I need to get that turkey and dressing cooked but it's the middle of summer and not even close to Thanksgiving.  Now if I could just get my friends and family to realize I'm not crazy or rude or succumbing to Alzheimer's.  And someday I'm hoping we can all laugh about this.  Just not over the Thanksgiving Dinner I've prepared on the 4th of July.