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Week Four...or Five?

I thought I read somewhere about depression causing problems with short-term memory. I do know that when I have to press myself into remembering the past week and get nothing but grey smoke, it feels like a cause for concern.

But after a weekend where I slept away an entire Saturday and spent a Sunday running errands and cleaning, it seems like there wasn't anything much to commit to memory. I know I must have cleaned; the piles are smaller than they were before and I found the hiding places of the bedbugs in my room. Nothing is sticking, though, and I feel entire weeks getting away from me.


I've dedicated myself to healing and recovery. But the isolation that is coming with it is weighing heavy.

Surviving. I don't feel alive, but I'm surviving.

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