Unexpected Side Effect

Thursday Thoughts on Mental Health

As I drove to West Virginia today, I thought initially that my “mental health Thursday” post would be about how good it felt to take a solo trip like this. Deciding when to stop, where to eat lunch, what music to listen to…etc. But as it turns out, it didn’t actually feel that great. I had to stop pretty often because my body hurt from being in the driving position. And my attempts at staying hydrated by drinking a bottle of water meant that I soon needed the bathroom so badly that every literal bump in the road was almost painful.

But then, just past this point…Pilot Mountain in North Carolina…

…I crossed into Virginia. I saw a creek running alongside the road once I got deeper into the mountains. This made me think of the time when Josh and I would take trips to the Virginia mountains and have fun weekend adventures. The creek reminded me of a similar creek that we saw one time. We had pulled over to the side of the road, climbed down the embankment, and walked out across a few of the larger rocks and sat on a much bigger rock just a little ways into the creek. The picture I took of Josh on that rock sat on my desk for many years.

But then I reflected on the fact that those trips, to places like the Natural Bridge, and many, many different caverns, took place between 2000 and 2002. Those were the first two years we were together and those were the worst years for my mental health. My diagnosis back then was Borderline Personality Disorder and Bipolar Disorder Type 2. I hadn’t yet found medication that was effective, and I didn’t meet the miracle psychiatrist that saved my life with ECT treatments until 2001. The treatments didn’t happen until 2002. Because of that, those two years were awful. I’ve written about them in various posts. But what is especially tragic about that time period is my lack of memory of it.

I don’t remember much about anything that happened during those two years. I know that Josh and I went on these trips. I have photo albums with lots of pictures from them. But what I remember about those trips is restricted to what I see in the pictures. Sometimes Josh will say, “Do you remember that time when we…?” And I just don’t remember. I know we did, but I don’t remember it.

And driving today made me wish with my whole heart that those trips had taken place now. When my mind is healed and in a much healthier state. Unless old age gets to me 30 or 40 years from now, I would remember those trips. In fact, I remember minute details from trips we’ve taken since those two years. But not those specific ones from those two specific years.

I called Josh when I was taking yet another break at a rest stop. As I walked around stretching out my body, I talked to him about this and I told him that we should do those trips again. They weren’t far from where we lived. Not far across the Virginia border. He reminded me that we used to leave after 5:00 on a Friday evening and come back on Sunday afternoon. We could totally make that work now. I told him I’d like to go back some of the same places we had been to. Like, the Natural Bridge, a natural occurring limestone arch. There is even a cavern that you can tour there. I think it was closed when we went originally. It’s now a state park and was a property once owned by Thomas Jefferson, who carved something into the rock. There are pictures of Josh and I posing next to to the carving.

I’d love to visit this again. I would not only remember it, but I think I would appreciate it more somehow.

I know that my experience with memory loss is not unique. It’s a side effect of trauma. One I certainly didn’t expect. And those two years were definitely traumatic for me. They were the worst of the worst. My memories suffered because of it. While I do feel sadness about what I lost, only now remembered through journal entries and photo albums, I can certainly feel good about the fact that those two years are over. I have recovered. I have healed. And I absolutely hope Josh and I will be able to recreate some of those original trips.

Want to help me accomplish my dream of being a paid writer? Buy me a coffee!