I stood in the bathroom and forgot why I went there

Dear Delyara, It came back eventually. But that blank moment sat in my chest for hours. I went upstairs with purpose, entered the bathroom, and suddenly the thought was gone. Completely. I looked at the sink, the mirror, the shelf, as if one of them might remind me what my own brain had just dropped. In the end, it was the painkillers. Nothing dramatic. Still, those little slips affect me more than I like admitting. Because they feel like evidence of how mentally crowded my life has become. And because I know from the outside I probably still look perfectly functional, which means I am alone with how frightening those small absences can feel.