Ocean full of Secrets

Part I_3

2nd of February 2014

My old Maths teacher always used to say,
"When a problem seems unsolvable, look at it from a different angle."

As you can imagine, this joke was very popular in trigonometry. And that's exactly what I'm going to try now. (Not trigonometry, his advice.) Instead of complaining about what I can't remember, I will start focusing on what I do remember, starting with the day before.

I remember Neil coming home from work, telling us that he will have to work Tuesday evening as well and that we therefore had to cancel our plans. But what plans had we made? And does that even matter? After all we cancelled them, right? Or did we?

I do remember meeting with Nice and Saki to study for our Psychology test at Nick's grandma's house. She is sick so he looks after her sometimes. After that I remember us going to my tree house in the forest behind our neighbourhood. I absolutely love that tree house, not to say it is my favourite place in the entire universe. And this is only partly due to the fact that it was built by two of the most admirable women I know and some of my favourite people in the world. When I was smaller I was so happy for them to be able to disobey stereotypes and do something so "manly". Whenever someone asked me, if my daddy had built it for me I was always so proud and happy to correct them.

"No, that was my auntie and her girlfriend."

It was only years later that I realised that this, too, supported specific stereotypes. I guess you just can't ever get it right.

Anyways, that's the point where my memories start to get all confused and curl up into a big, blurry mess. I feel like I distinctly remember walking home and going to bed, but I wouldn't put my finger on it. It might just be my brain telling me I must've done that, since it's what I do every night. However, I wouldn't be so sure about that.

The next day is like this huge, blank screen staring at me laughing about my ignorance. I can't even remember waking up in the morning, not going to school and, of course, nothing about the afternoon.

Maybe there really is something wrong with me. I don't think I have to explain that this isn't normal, but what if there's seriously something fundamentally wrong with me?
Speaking of "What ifs", the reason I'm writing to you today is that I'm going back to school tomorrow and I'm terribly afraid. What if by now the rumours aren't just rumours anymore? What if by now the truth has come out and I'm the only one who doesn't know? What if even Nick and Saki know by now? What if they, like everyone else, think I'm a freak now and don't want to be seen with me anymore? I know the last one is probably not worth worrying about, especially since I just got of the phone with Saki and she assured me that she would punch everyone on the nose who only as much as looked at me weirdly. I know she was exaggerating, but it was good to hear her say those words anyway. However, I still can't stop my brain from coming up with all these scenarios, all these "What ifs". But by writing them down at least I can see myself how ridiculous they sound when read out loud.

And even if this diary might not help me regain my memory, at least it helps me cope with the loss and the resultant fear of everyday situations. I'm happy to say that I'm not as reluctant to follow my therapist's advice anymore as I was in the beginning.

Yours,
Cassie