bekah brunstetter
Bekah Brunstetter I care deeply. About a lot of things. Like really, really deep. Ow
playwright in brooklyn, NY


January 25th, 2013 by Bekah Brunstetter

I heard this story the other day about this woman who would find that every now and then, suddenly, her world would shift 90 degrees. It all started at a birthday party when she was 5, and spun around the pin the tail on the donkey: when she removed her blindfold, she had no idea where she was. North had gone east, east had gone south, etc. She felt like a witch and / or freak most of her life, until, thanks to the internet, she was able to find a name for the disorder, and connect with other people who experienced the same thing. Turns out it’s caused by an ¬†underdeveloped hippocampus which also causes the endlessly fascinating face blindness. There’s no cure, and she’ll always be this way, but still: finding a NAME for what was afflicting her provided a whole lot of comfort.

Which makes me Couldn’t Help but Wonder: is there a name for how I seem to have practically no long term memory except for tiny images and slices of moments? The other day I tried to remember what I did for my birthdays in high school, like ANY of them, and after much squinting all I could see was a Party City vest stuffed in the back seat of my car; sitting cross legged in the middle of someone’s driveway; glittery eye shadow. I wish there was a name for this other than ¬†forgetful avoidance or unable to remember anything ever ¬†or not the sharpest crayon in the box. I wish I could just name it, and then have it be fine.

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