So, you know how everyone has those little voices in their heads (I mean, it's not just me, right?) The voice of a good idea. The voice of self-doubt. The voice of do-the-right-thing. The voice of what-do-I-want-to-eat-tonight? Those voices.
I have a voice that doesn't like to speak up when she really damn well should.
It's my memory.
I don't know if it's genetics or my depression or what, but my memory *hates* me right now. It has for a few years. I've always been one to have things slip my mind, but it's been unbelievably bad, lately.
Yesterday, I'd realized that I'd completely forgotten that Waking Sleeping Beauty, an amazing-sounding documentary on the Disney Renaissance from 1989-99, was going to be in Phoenix. And I'd missed it by a day.
Then, today, I realized, to my extreme horror and upset, that it was Monday the 14th... and that Friday the 11th, at 7pm, I was supposed to be standing poolside at Fort Lowell park, cheering on my favorite cousins at their synchronized swimming water show. And it wasn't just a water show - it was the last water show my oldest cousin Ellen was going to be in, ever.
I love my cousins. These ones, for some reason, are really near and dear to my heart, probably because they've always looked up to me and accepted me, and I've always felt comfortable around them, more so than many of my other cousins. I've always been very proud of them. And I always loved watching them swim. Their acts are always amazing, and they consistently go to nationals.
And here's where it's just really bothering me -- I was so excited to go. I really wanted to go. I kept reminding my mom that I couldn't do anything on Friday because I had to go to the watershow. I told Donald I'd take him with me so he could hang out with my cousin Robert, who's about his age. I told Ellen I would be there and that I was so excited. I told Sean, my older brother, that he should go. On Thursday night, even, I'd told my mom that I would be going.
Then Friday came and went.
What the hell happened??
I don't really even remember what I did on Friday... I mean my mom has been really sick the past four days, and I know she stayed home sick on Friday (first pnemonia, and then a massive allergic reaction to the antibiotics they put her on). I took Donald to a movie, and I think we stopped at the library? But at 7pm, I wasn't doing anything. Maybe I was drawing. Maybe I was writing. Maybe I was hanging out with Donald or painting or something. But the point was, I was not at the water show.
I feel terrible. I've actually been crying off and on since I remembered earlier today, about 60 hours too late. I feel like I let my cousins down, and I'm afraid they'll never forgive me. I let myself down, because I really really had wanted to see Ellen swim one last time. I also didn't get to go to the water show last year because I had to work, so I wanted to make up for it by going this year. I feel rotten. I feel like a loser failure dirtbag. I wrote on Ellen's wall to tell her I'm sorry, but either she hasn't read it or she doesn't want to respond. I'd text her, but she changed phone numbers. I'd call her, but I'd break down into tears almost immediately. I just feel awful, and I can't get over it. I know it's too late to do anything about it, but I am just hating myself, and my stupid silent memory, for forgetting.
I've made efforts over the years to figure out a way to help me remember things. Probably my most successful was the calendar on my old phone. If you made a calendar appointment, you could set a reminder time, and it would ring at that time and every five minutes after that, to be really fricken sure you notice it. My new phone doesn't have that feature. It makes one small noise and is forever silent. I've tried dead-tree planners and notebooks to write down homework assignments in, I've had dead-tree calendars where I can write down things. I would even write notes to myself with dry erase on the mirror so I can't even look at my face without seeing it -- and you know what? I would forget to check all these things. Seriously.
But something has to change. I don't want to let anyone down like that again. I don't want to be like my father, who was always forgetting shit and letting me down. But I don't know what to do. And right now, all I want to do is curl up in bed and cry.
Yeah, this is my life.