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#amnesia
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The most terrifying part of having memory issues is when you can feel something from 5 seconds ago be thrown out the window and there's an empty hole where it once was. You remember that you forgot something.
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caintooth · 3 months
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seeing people my age talk about how scared they are of memory loss, which they only associate with old age, is so surreal to see as a 24 year old who has actively experienced memory loss for a long time now
there are causes for memory loss besides dementia and alzheimer’s, i hope y’all know that. dissociative disorders, trauma, brain injuries, thyroid problems, even just stress and lack of sleep can fuck up your ability to store, process, and access memory. and that’s just a few of the many causes i can think of off the top of my head right now.
please stop treating disabled people like some scary “other” that you might become only in the distant, decades-away future. we are your age, too. you may become one of us sooner than you know. stop acting like memory loss marks the end of a life, when so many of us have so much living left to do!
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solidwater05 · 4 months
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Apparently this needs to be said so
Forgetting things is morally neutral! Memory issues are morally neutral!
You're not a bad person if you...
forget things quickly
forget people
can't remember entire stages of your life
can't remember important things
can remember some things very well and forget other things all the time
can't remember things (or anything!) about your interests
forget to eat, sleep, go to the bathroom, etc
forget to reply to texts
remember things and immediately forget them again
can't remember birthdays, events, etc
frequently answer 'I forgot' to questions
can't retain new information
forget things you used to know
only remember things when it's too late
have vague, distorted and/or unreliable memories
depend on others to know how an event you were in played out
have other symptoms that are worsened by memory issues and vice versa
... and anything else I might have missed!
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lumpsbumpsandwhumps · 3 months
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amnesia as a trauma response has the potential to be so fucking funny because imagine you just spent like 6 months breaking Whumpee down piece by piece, stripping them of their rights, destroying their mind and body with scars that will never heal, relishing in the irrevocable damage done by your hand even after they've been rescued
and then you run into them at a grocery store and they're like "oh hey (: sorry didn't see you there ((((: no i have no idea who you are but you're blocking the shelf i need to look at"
my ass would be humbled so goddamn fast. i would be shinji gripping the sink sobbing in the mirror because Whumpee basically just called me cringe. my brilliant torturing apparently meant fuckall and i'm not even worth the time of day. they'd probably misspell my name on a starbucks cup. whumper turned whumpee because how do i recover from that. what the fuck.
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bet-on-me-13 · 6 months
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The Ghost King's Son
So! Cloning is a difficult process.
It takes time, lots of time. Sure, it's possible to accelerate the Growth of a Clone to make them older in a shorter time frame, but that often leads to Destabilization within weeks of completion.
And Cadmus didn't want to take any chances when designing their Kryptonian/Human Hybrid. They started growing him much earlier than they originally did, and let him grow at a semi-normal rate for most of his life.
This comes back to bite them in the butt however, when an asset breaks out of containment and ruins their Internal Power Generators. This causes a blackout that takes hours to resolve, and by the time they fix it all and reestablish the Security Systems, they notice one of the Clones is missing.
The Kryptonian/Human Clone has escaped.
...
Kr-1 is confused. He had woken up in a tube a few hours ago to some alarms, and decided he didn't like it, so he broke out. Then he wandered around until he ended up outside, and just kept on Wandering.
It had been hours, and he didn't know where he was. It seemed to be some type of Forest, but he didn't know what kind.
He just kept on wandering. It started to get boring though, the trees all looked the same and there weren't even any animals around. Then, something interesting happened!
A green thing appeared in the air! It was glowing and swirly and had a kind of pull to it. So, he touched it. And it sucked him in. And now he wasn't in the Forest. And this place seemed much more interesting!
There were a bunch of floating rocks, and the sky was green, and everything else was purple.
And there was a man. Looking at him hurt his eyes, he seemed to be a kid and then an man and then an old man and then a kid again whenever he blinked. He was saying something, but Kr-1 didn't understand him. He didn't think he had been taught language yet? What was language?
The Kid/Man/Old-Man lead him to a big building made of bricks and mortar. It looked like a big spiky building with towers and walls and stuff. Inside it looked cool, with candles and carpets and even more stuff.
He was taken to a room with a guy who didn't hurt his eyes to look at. He had white hair and green eyes, but his skin wasn't blue like the old guy. He had a piece of ice on his head, it looked like a crown but it was glowing.
The Guy walked up to him and pointed to himself, and kept repeating something. "Danny".
Eventually Kr-1 realized that it was his name. He then pointed to Him and said "name?"
He tilted his head confused, and the guy, Danny, let his head fall with a sigh.
"This is gonna be harder than I thought."
He wondered what those words mean?
...
It had been a few years since the newly dubbed Conner had begun to live with Danny.
He had been hesitant to adopt the Living 9 yr old Child when Clockwork had brought him to his Castle, explaining that he had run into a Natural Portal, but he had accepted in the end.
It took a while to teach Conner how to understand Language. He seemed to know very little for a kid his age, but after Clockwork had dug around his personal timeline they figured out that he was a Clone. He probably hadn't reached the Information Planting Stage of development when he escaped.
After learning about this however, Danny began teaching him everything he should have learned in his early life, such as Elementary level education and some social interaction. He even brought around Ellie to see if she had any advice for helping him develop into a healthy young boy.
She did help a bit, but was mostly preoccupied with spoiling her new Nephew rotten.
Eventually, Conner had caught up to the level he should have been at his age, and started living in both the Realms and in Amity.
He was having a good life, had some great friends, and was even starting to learn to use his Kryptonian Powers now that they were coming in.
He loves his new Family, his Dad is goofy and fun, his Aunt Ellie likes to spoil him rotten, his Aunt Jazz is the responsible one but still loves him, and even his grandparents are great in their own Insane way.
But not all great things can last.
...
It was supposed to be a normal Field Trip. Conner was 15 and his school was taking a Trip to Washington DC, to see the sights or to learn about history or something.
But stuff happens. They just so happen to pass by a certain lab, that lab just so happens to be testing out a new Yellow Sun Energy Detector, and one of the Scientists who worked on Conner just so happens to see him in the bus as it passes by and the detector goes off.
In the end, they manage to recapture him and place him back into his Pod, beginning to prep him for Reeducation. (Let's say they mamage to repress his memories)
Cut to 1 year later and a team of Sidekicks break into the Lab and successfully steal away the Clone again.
The Clone who knows he had a dad who had black hair and blue eyes, who helped him use his powers, who looks a lot like Superman.
Conner, in his slightly Amnesiac state thinks he has already met Superman and that he had raised him. Which makes it so much more hurtful when Superman outright rejects him. He thinks his Dad just rejected him, the Dad who he thinks he remembers loving him very much.
(Danny had been frantically looking for his son for over a year now. Where is he? Is he Okay? What happened to him? He knows at least that he isn't dead yet, but he really wants to find his son)
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abitofajournal · 1 year
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bound to fall in love
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gallifreyanhotfive · 2 months
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The number of citations.....and the fact that I'm almost a hundred percent sure it's an INCOMPLETE LIST AJSHDHAJDJDKSKDJ
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three-in-one · 3 months
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Actually, I need people to understand that we have amnesia. Not the full mind wipe amnesia that people often think of when they hear the word. We are going to forget things easily and often. No, I won't always be able to tell when or if something happened. No, I won't always remember what I've already done or what I'm supposed to do. No, I won't always remember that one memory from 5 years ago. WE HAVE FUCKING AMNESIA
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the-habitat-sysblog · 11 days
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guy who has the doesn't-feel-real disorder: idk why but i don't feel real :-(
guy who has the major-memory-loss disorder: idk it just feels like there's a gap where yesterday is supposed to be :-( weiird
guy who has the different-person-every-hour disorder: woa h guys idk why i said that yesterday that doesn't rly sound like me :-(
DID: the disorder you know you have but it still surprises you every time! only $9,99 (childhood not included)
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laxxarian · 1 month
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Danny lost his memories and he was in Gotham. All he remembered was that he died and turned into a ghost who can 'disguise' himself like he was still a human living being.
He also remembers his relationships with the ghosts were more of enemies to friends to enemies to a looping cycle kind of way.
Now, Danny doesn't know where he is and how he got here. He needed to get back to his haunt but doesn't know where, his home, forgotten, he doesn't remember his human name.
So, without furtherado, Danny was walking blindly to the crime alley till he encountered some muggers. He's not afraid since he can't just die twice, am I right?
So he just stays still and turned intangible not knowing Red Hood was watching from above but Danny's ghost sense went off, finally noticing a comrade.
The feeling of familiarity made him just transform back to a ghost and floated to Red Hood, "Friend!" Danny cheerfully said, "I'm so glad to find one of my kind!"
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ghost-bxrd · 4 months
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Prompt:
Jason suffers from a short bout of amnesia that puts his mind back to when he was a naive little Robin.
But when he regains his memories after a week…. He finds he doesn’t want to give up the soft, loving family that’s suddenly treating him like he’s something precious again. Doesn’t want to give up how Bruce makes every excuse under the sun to spend time with him, doesn’t want to give up Dick positively plastering himself to Jason in every waking moment, doesn’t want to give up Tim trailing after him trustingly like a tiny puppy with wide eyed wonder.
There’s no harm in pretending a little longer… right?
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personalitysystems · 6 months
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DID, OSDD, and amnesia can present so many ways. it's different for everyone.
amnesia may present for one as forgetting things that happened in childhood, while having great memory for recent events. it may also be remembering everything that happened in childhood while having terrible memory for recent events.
amnesia doesn't have to be complete loss of memory, either. a lot of people do have that kind of amnesia, but sometimes amnesia is being able to recall a memory but it being so blurry and indistinguishable it's pretty much like it actually is gone, or something like remembering pieces of what you just did while you can't actually find the visual memory in your head, as if someone just told you what you did but left out major parts of the story.
it might also present as emotional amnesia, where you are unable to recall the feelings you felt at the time of the event, while you otherwise can remember what happened.
you don't even have to forget that you've forgotten. while a lot of these are more common in DID and OSDD, none of them are necessary other than the fact you have amnesia of some kind, and in some people with OSDD, none at all.
you don't have to have every single type of amnesia, you can have multiple or all types of amnesia, you can also have only one. any amnesia counts.
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thepenultimateword · 5 months
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Absentminded
“Good morning, love,” Civilian beamed.
Villain slumped groggily on the stair rail, rubbing the leftover sleep from their eyes. “What’s got you so chipper?”
“I don’t know.” Civilian threw themselves around their neck. “Just woke up extra happy I guess.”
Villain trudged toward the table, but Civilian didn’t loosen their grip, stepping with them until they plopped into a kitchen chair.
“You going to give me any breathing space?” Villain said, even as they gathered Civilian into their lap. They were always a little resistant to affection first thing in the morning. Civilian was pretty sure they got shy. Almost like each day was a restart of their first, like they had to be sure Civilian was talking to them. It was sweet.
They shook their head into their collar. “Mm-mm.”
Villain gave them a gentle squeeze around the waist. “Just how happy are you?”
“Brimming. Overflowing. Oh! I made breakfast!”
They hopped out of Villain’s arms and swept a great plate of chocolate chips pancakes from the counter.
“You’re pancake happy?” Villain said a little surprise in their tone. “You usually only get pancake happy on your birthday or our anniversary.” They stiffened. “It’s not our anniversary is it?”
Civilian smiled, placing a reassuring hand on Villain’s shoulder. “No. It’s sort of weird I suppose. I just woke up early this morning and I was looking at you—“
“Creep.”
“Shut up.” Civilian punched them in the shoulder. “I was looking at you, and I just started thinking how happy I am that I found you. You know from the moment we met…it was like I knew you. Like I’d always known you. I guess that’s how I figured it out.”
“Figured out what, my heart?”
“That we were meant to be together.”
Villain’s smile froze, thawed into a sort of grimace, then froze again wider. A sort of thin, strained thing, like a wash rag wrung out too many times.
Civilian backtracked. “That’s cheesy isn’t it?”
“No! No! It’s wonderful! I just feel guilty! You knew much sooner than I did. I let you chase after me for far too long. I don’t…I don’t always think I deserve you.”
Civilian grinned. “I didn’t mind. You’re just more cautious. I like that about you.”
They kissed Villain’s cheek and plopped down in the seat beside them, dividing pancakes between their plates. Villain’s eyes followed their movements as they slathered the stack with butter and cream and doused it all in syrup.
“How’s work? Any schemes planned for the day?”
Villain cut their stack in section and skewered three pancake pieces on their fork. “Not until evening, but I have to leave in a couple hours to organize it. It’s a museum heist, so I’ll be home a little late.”
Civilian nodded. “Are things smoother for you without Hero around?”
Villain choked on their breakfast. Civilian leaped for the pitcher, messily pouring a glass of water, and shoving it into Villain’s hand, then rubbing their lover’s back as they chugged it down.
“Hero?” Villain croaked once they had a hold of themselves. “Why are you thinking about them all of a sudden?”
Civilian didn’t stop rubbing their back. “I saw on the news they’re putting up a memorial statue in the park this afternoon. It’s been three years since they went missing, right? How well did you know them?”
“Fairly well.”
“Oooh?” Civilian rose their eyebrows.
“Not like that. I don’t know. We just fought. It wasn’t like we actually knew knew each other.”
Civilian nodded idly. That was about what they had expected. It was just their reactions around mentions of Hero were somewhat guarded. They supposed one didn’t have to be close to somebody to be struck by their loss. “What do you think happened?”
“They probably just settled down.”
“You think they’re ok?” It was the first they’d heard that theory, most everyone thought the vigilante was dead or kidnapped or undercover.
Villain nodded. “They weren’t the type to let someone get the jump on them. Besides they were always miserable as a hero.”
Civilian cocked their head.
“They were just always exhausted and angry and breaking down. I don’t think they liked being a hero, even if they were good at it. Anyway…” Villain ate the last bite of pancake and stretched their arms over their head as they rose. “I better get dressed and get going. What are you doing today?”
“Just grocery shopping,” Civilian said. “I’m going to make orange chicken for dinner.”
“Stop spoiling me,” Villain said, kissing them first on the head.
“I guess I just can’t help it. …I love you.”
Villain hesitated, but eventually, they took Civilian’s face in their hands and pressed a long kiss to their lips. “I love you too.”
***
Civilian swung the grocery bags in rhythm with their steps. The music blasting from the speakers in the square had them swaying and skipping like a dance more than a walk. A crowd of people were gathered across the street, some dressed in blue masks and capes.
Right. The unveiling.
Civilian idly crossed the street toward the crowd. They couldn’t stay long—they had ice cream in their bag—but they couldn’t say they were uninterested in this memorial. Hero intrigued them. What sort of person was willing to sacrifice so much for other people? Even after they disappeared, they were still making an impact. There was something sort of amazing and sad about all that.
The music died down and the microphone squealed in the hands of a smartly dressed woman in a grey pencil skirt and puffy, white blouse standing on the steps in front of the covered statue.
A dull pain started behind Civilian’s eyes. Was getting up so early affecting them?
“Welcome, everyone. I appreciate you all coming out this afternoon for Hero’s statue unveiling. Hero was my friend. No, more than that. They were my mentor. And I was with them the night they disappeared. You've probably all read the story. We got a call for help at an old factory, and Hero ran ahead.
“I was only a few feet behind when I saw a flash of light through the windows. When I got inside, Hero was gone. I never saw them again. Sometimes I still expect them to turn a corner or walk onto our old training grounds. To come back into my life.”
The pain spread up into Civilian’s forehead and temples, a throbbing sensation like someone knocking on a door to get in. Or maybe to get out.
Civilian clutched the side of their face. What was going on? A really bad migraine? They probably should just head home for some pain medication and lie down. And yet…they couldn’t seem to move. They picture the scene the woman had described clearly. Almost like each painful throb was focusing the picture clearer in their head. Had they been to the same factory? Maybe they’d seen a picture in the news when Hero first went missing.
The woman stared out across the crowd.
"It left me wondering, what do we do when the person who does the saving needs saved?" She paused. "We step up. We become the heroes. Hero inspired me to be better; they wanted all of us to be better. And today we honor their belief that ‘everyone possesses a little bit of heroism; they just have to be brave enough to use it.’”
Another stab of pain, worse than the others. Almost like their skull was being ripped in two. A scream pushed up their throat, lying threateningly just behind their teeth.
Villain. They should call Villain. They dropped one grocery sack and fumbled for their phone.
“Hero was always secretive about their identity,” the woman continued in the background, “but for the first time, I would like to share with you all the face of a hero. I would like to give them the honor and credit they deserve. Ladies and gentleman…our Hero.”
The sheet dropped.
Civilian’s scream was lost in the ecstatic shouts and applause. They dropped to their knees, legs and heads and bags blocking everything the bright spots flashing across their vision did not. For moment all they could do was tuck their head into their chest against the concrete and wait, trembling fingers still a button click away from calling Villain.
After what seemed like forever, the pain dulled and they were able to stumble upright.
Slowly, they blinked the blur from their eyes, taking in the horror of what they now already knew: the statue wore their face.
***
Villain flicked on the hall lights just after midnight.
Hero sat at the center of the room, kitchen chair dragged right into the entryway.
“Sweetheart?” Villain blinked a few times. “What are you doing sitting in the dark?” They seemed to quickly read the wrongness in their face. “Is this about missing dinner? I’m sorry, I should have called, but—”
“I’m Hero.”
Villain froze. Reddened. Paled. Ever the chameleon.
“Ah, so you did know.” They weren’t sure if that was better or worse. If Villain had fallen in love with them as a civilian maybe Hero could have excused them and saved some of the aching, quivering shards of their broken heart. But knowing that the deception had been intentional, well, now Hero had the freedom to explode.
“How did you…?” Villain swallowed. “Do you remember everything?”
“Not everything, but I remember you. And I remember me. And enough events between us to know this never should have happened.”
Villain took a step forward, and immediately, Hero stood to take a step back. Another step forward. Another step back. Forward. Back. Forward. Back. Until Hero was up against the wall and Villain only an arms length apart.
“We can talk about this,” Villain said, outstretching their hand.
Hero only stared.
“In what world is this getting solved with a talk? Our entire relationship, the entire three years we’ve been together, are a lie.”
“But you’re happy! You said it yourself! You’re brimming with happiness! Overflowing with happiness! With me!”
Hero slammed their fist into the wall behind them.“Happy? You took advantage of me! Manipulated me!”
At that, Villain looked affronted. “I didn’t manipulate anyone! You approached me that night! I tried to send you away; I tried multiple times to avoid you; you didn’t want to. And when I did give in, I never pretended to be anyone other than I am. I even told you what I do, and you were all too accepting, like you’d dealt with it every day.”
“Because I had!”
“Then what was I supposed to do?” Villain cried, throwing their hands in the air.
“You could have told me!”
“That would have defeated the point!”
Hero went rigid. Villain covered their mouth. Their eyes plead for mercy Hero was not capable of giving.
“You did this?”
Villain’s lip trembled. “It was meant to be temporary. A few hours. I didn’t know it was going to last three years! I tried to make it right at first! I tried to trigger memories or to come up with some sort of reversal machine, but I couldn’t figure it out, and meanwhile, you kept coming and coming and you just seemed happier this way! And things got so good, I got scared of ruining it!”
Hero stared them down, waiting for the ramble to sputter out. Their reply was slow and cold.
“You gave me amnesia and then made me love you!”
“I didn’t make you love me.” They took Hero’s chin. “It just happened.”
And that was what hurt the most. Hero couldn’t deny it. No matter the false circumstances or how their returned memories rebelled, the feelings had been real. But veracity did not make any of it alright.”
“Then I guess this is where it ends.” Hero smiled weakly. “Goodbye, Villain.”
They felt past feeling as they edged around their lover ex-lover nemesis’s shocked form, picking up their bag, packed and ready for the last six hours, at the door.
“Hero!” Villain lurched forward, seizing them by the wrist and yanking them around. Their other hand tangled in their hair as the pulled into a desperate kiss, gruff and noxious and pleading.
Hero stomped hard on their foot, ripping away as Villain yowled and fell back. The criminal barely allowed the pain a second thought, scrambling after Hero’s determined stride.
“Hero! Hero, I love you! I love you, I love you, I love—”
“You do not!” Hero shouted. Regrettably some emotion edged in on their fury; a few tears slid down their cheek. “You loved a version of me. A dead one. A made up one. Maybe I made them up. But they are not me.”
They stormed out without another word, leaving Villain crumpled and weeping on the floor.
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murmeloni · 4 months
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Amnesiac Bruce, who forgot everything since his parents' death, immediately goes "I'm fucking him aren't I?" as soon as he sets his sights on reporter Clark Kent, who's clearly out of place at this gala with his tacky rental suit and has been staring at Bruce nonstop with the worst pining/kicked-puppy-look in history. Plus, Bruce feels *something* lick up his spine when he meets those blue eyes, a remembered feeling of arousal and affection, so he wastes no time dragging Clark into a coat room. Of course Clark goes with him. He's wholly unprepared for Bruce to be this direct, this open, and to have that charm not only dialed up to eleven but trained on him and only? Yeah, Clark stands no chance. Of course Bruce regains his memory right after all the happy chemicals have erupted in his brain....
The plot twist? Clark and Bruce weren't even on particularly friendly terms before Bruce lost his memory. They'd butted heads at every turn and just started working together, Bruce's professional (and personal) paranoia keeping them from getting close. Bruce had locked his lust for Superman away so deep in the recesses of his mind that acting on it had been impossible. Until now.
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xenodelic · 2 years
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There is so much shame that comes with having amnesia and other memory issues.
As someone that has multiple conditions that cause memory loss (DID, TBI, ADHD, etc) we can't even begin to describe the shame and guilt that is conditioned into people who are """forgetful""".
Having memory issues does not make you a bad person. It doesn't mean you are uncaring, lazy, or immature.
Memory is simply one of the many things that people can struggle with. It has nothing to do with who you are as a person. We are conditioned to think otherwise because being "forgetful" makes people less productive to a capitalist society. Society is arranged to make life a living hell for people with memory issues. This is an aspect of structural ableism. People in power do not want people like us to exist because we are less useful to them.
Dont get me wrong - it can absolutely hurt when someone you care about forgets something that's important to you. You're not wrong for feeling upset that someone missed an important date, event, detail, etc. That makes sense and feeling that way is not inherently ableist.
All we ask for is for compassion to be extended to people who struggle with memory. We ask for people to stop assigning moral value to how effective someone's memory is. We desire for social structures to accommodate people of all cognitive functions, not just those who are most productive to a capitalist machine.
And if you are someone with memory issues, know you do not need to be ashamed. We've been conditioned to hold negative beliefs about ourselves and our struggles for somebody else's benefit. Guilt and shame will not resolve our struggles. You are worthy and valuable as you are.
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teenwolftuesdaytrash · 7 months
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Derek stands by the window and watches as Stiles’ reflection appears and leans by the doorframe.
He ran away from their conversation (confrontation?) earlier, and Stiles is kind enough to follow at a more sedate pace.
Derek expects a reprimand, a word vomit of how not-okay it is to just run off mid very important conversation. But Stiles keeps quiet, arms crossed, face carefully neutral. He looks unimpressed by his tantrum but determined to patiently wait him out.
The rush of confusion and jumbled mess of thoughts in his head make Derek cave in.
“I don’t even know you,” he continues from where he left off earlier, “but I remember…I remember loving you.
He can see Stiles hold his breath.
“I remember a pool,” Derek goes on, “I remember you and me in a car with my arm bleeding. I remember watching you leave.”
He looks away from Stiles’ reflection and into the trees.
“I remember leaving. And then staying. For you.”
Derek clenches his hands into fists, his claws coming out and digging into his palm as the frustrating block of darkness sips into his mind again.
“I can’t remember who I am, where I am, or anything else. I don’t remember you. But I remember loving you.”
He wants to look at Stiles again, but also not. He chooses the latter as he gives in to the question at the tip of his tongue.
“Did you…love me, too?”
“Yes.”
Stiles is standing straighter when Derek whips around to face him and his answer. His arms are now at his sides, and there’s a furrow between his brows as he takes a careful step towards Derek.
“Yes, but you didn’t know. I didn’t tell you,” he keeps walking towards Derek until they’re much closer in front of each other, “and you never told me.”
There’s a challenge and confrontation in those last words, but Derek doesn’t have an answer. Only more questions.
“So what does that make us?” he asks. Because Stiles is the one with the answers, Derek also remembers that.
Stiles gives him a look of disbelief for a moment, an unspoken how dare you turn this on me on the upturn of his brow and the slight opening of his lips.
Then he drops his head, huffs, a disguised laugh Derek thinks.
“That makes us two morons who have a lot to talk about. And a lot of dates to go on.”
Stiles shakes his head and gives Derek another look. He searches for something there, seems to find it.
Then, without any more hesitation, he takes Derek’s hand and leads him back out of the room, “after we get your memory back, you big failwolf.”
Derek remembers how easy it is to just hold onto Stiles and follow.
Part 2
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