Stream-of-consciousness

I am a stream-of-consciousness writer, or if that is being presumptuous, simply a stream-of-consciousness person. I live in the moment and can only adequately describe it as it unfolds.  That is part of the reason that I write. These narratives, some of which become blogs become my vivid recollection of the moments of my secret life.  I have other people around me who serve the same purpose for all other memories and events.

I do not remember things well. I can often sketch the larger things but if my memory were a drawing, it would be a simple pencil sketch of the event. Lines would define the house but the details of the walls would not be there and you would be unlikely to be able to see anything through the windows. The surrounding context would tell you where you were but not much more.  I spoke to a therapist and then a psychologist for about a year, maybe more. This lack of memory was troubling to them. They each had theories about why I didn’t or couldn’t save things but neither one of them were able to unlock the why of it. They believed that I had learned not to remember, rather than simply not having a memory or not having a deeply functioning memory. Actually, they believed that I had experienced events that I actively chose not to remember and in doing so, was not able to restrict not remembering to the traumatic events.

This ramble serves to introduce this blog because I bought a new dress yesterday and I am wearing it today. I also bought a new dress three weeks ago but I wasn’t able to get to a computer in a timely fashion so that moment is more or less lost. It is a shame that it is lost because I was very excited about the first new dress. It is colorful. It is a good fit and the appropriate length for my age and to be comfortable to wear.

Yesterday’s new dress, on the other hand, is a $20 “thing” from Walmart. It has small horizontal stripes, cap sleeved and ¾ length. When I put it on yesterday, after arriving home, I believed it to be the most comfortable garment I have ever worn. The fit is excellent, the belt fits properly and sits at the right place, the looseness at the hem is enough for me to feel it along the length of my legs but not enough to impede my step or stride.  Yesterday I had only a moment to try it on before I ran out of safe time. This morning I rushed through my morning activities so that I could spend most of the day in the dress with all the appropriate accoutrements. I feel lovely.

I know that I have written before about how “dressing” makes me feel complete, whole and at peace with myself. I won’t repeat that lengthy narrative, suffice to say that the feeling hasn’t changed or diminished. I will, however, have to check to see if I have ever called any other garment “the most comfortable I’ve ever worn”. I wish I had the courage to live like this all the time and outside the safety of this house.

Today I have my “wedge-style” shoes on. I am on balance with them. With the other new dress I wore a pair of more traditional heels and for some reason I had difficulty keeping the heel under my foot. It was like I was walking on the inside of the shoe. Practice may be the answer and practice I shall. Friday I will have an opportunity to dress again so I will probably wear the other new dress. Perhaps the excitement will return and I will have more to say. The stream certainly does seem to run dry quickly.