I don’t know if I should be worried.
Apparently today I started cooking food for myself. I went into the kitchen and noticed the oven on. I was alone. I looked inside the oven and there was a pizza, almost fully cooked. I looked around the kitchen and sure enough there was a box and the wrapper the pizza was once in. I pulled it out of the oven, sliced it up, and put it in a plastic container to save for another time. When asked why I didn’t have it then and there, I said “I don’t know why I cooked it.” I wasn’t hungry at all. Maybe a little thirsty I thought, but not hungry.
This is happening more often these days. I also experience moving through time. I will look at the clock and it will be a certain time. I will sit there, maybe looking something over, then I will look back at the clock and 20 minutes will have passed. Logic says that I’m not moving through time, but it sure feels that way. I guess these events can only be explained as blackouts. Sometimes I will find myself doing something and wonder how I came to be doing it. Sometimes I will be standing in the bathroom and wonder how I got there and why I went there to begin with. Sometimes I will be stand in front of the mirror reaching out to the glass. I don’t know why my subconscious does this. I’m not really sure what it means. I’ve done the same thing with leaving the house.
Sometimes I will find myself going to my car, fully dressed and wondering what I’m doing. Sometimes I’ll even be in the car with the engine running. It makes me afraid to drive. My only saving grace is that my activities are relatively benign. Sometimes I will find myself holding my hair brush and wonder why. Obviously something told me to brush my hair, but I don’t remember what.
Sometimes I can’t tell if I am awake or still asleep. The only way I can tell usually is if something is happening that simply isn’t possible in the real world like flying or seeing someone famous in my room.
I think about this and it does scare me a little. I wonder how much worse it’s going to get. I know it’s not the medications because, with the exception of my allergy medicine, I’m virtually drug free. I say virtually because pain has driven me to my Vicodin a couple of times, but only a couple. This whole months I’ve had maybe three pills which is not nearly enough to explain what’s happening to me.
She tells me there is really nothing I can do so I should just try to deal with it the best I can. She promises to look after me with every step I take. It’s hard for me to admit this. This is the kind of stuff that happens to crazy people. I worry that one day I’ll forget who I am. I also wonder if and when that day comes, will I even realize it? Will I be so far gone that I won’t even realize I’ve lost myself?