A few weeks ago, I woke up, and... some things were different.
I own pet chickens, and feed them every morning before starting my day. They all ran out to greet me, except one, which I remember to have (a black Copper Maran) was not in the chicken run. All the others were still there, including one which I do not remember ( a barred rock). I called my boyfriend at work (no answer) and then texted him, telling him that Lenore (name of black chicken) was missing, and there was a strange chicken in our chicken run. I searched all over the yard for her, thinking she might have flown the coop, but couldn't find her.
He texted back, along the tunes of "what are you talking about? Who is Lenore?" He had no idea what I was talking about. I then sent him a picture of the strange chicken, who he then named. Apparently, we have never owned a Copper Maran, and have had this barred rock for about seven months (approximately around the same time I remember buying the Copper Maran.) When he came home, he showed me numerous pictures on his phone of this barred rock with our other chickens, going back months. There were no pictures of the copper Maran. In going through my own phone, I also found many pictures of the barred rock, none of the Copper Maran. In the face of all of this evidence of this black chicken never existing except in my head, I wrote this off as a bizarre, but harmless occurrence of me being wrong, though it felt like my memories were right, and all of this undeniable evidence was wrong, however illogical. (Not sure if I am explaining that correctly? Hopefully someone knows what that means/feels like)
This same day, while texting back and forth about this strange chicken and the whereabouts of the nonexistent one with him, I was trying to go about my day as normal. While straightening up the bedroom and stripping the sheets to be washed, I noticed the bedside table on my side of the bed had been refinished. I refinish our furniture as a hobby, but had not gotten to the table yet. I'd purchased the table, along with a roll top desk, at an antiques flea market some two months prior, but the table was in better condition than the desk (just a few scratches on the top tabletop, and legs) so I'd decided to use the table as-is for awhile, and refinish the desk first. In my memory, I was nearly done sanding down the desk, the bedside table had not been started yet, but... there it was, finished, and after going into the garage to check on the desk, it hadn't been started yet. It was in the same condition as the day I brought it home. When I brought this up with my boyfriend, he again stated that I was wrong... and showed me, on my Facebook, a post I'd made three weeks prior, when the bedside table was finished being sanded, and ready to be oiled. By this point, he was worried and began questioning my stress level. I also began questioning and doubting my own mind.
While going through my phone, I noticed other strange things... pictures I remember taking are gone, other pictures I don't remember taking are there. For example, I remember my neighbor's dog getting stuck in the drainage pipe under my driveway, approximately three months ago, and taking a photo of him after being pulled out, covered in mud, still holding the ball he'd gone in to retrieve, but... it didn't happen. I remember it clearly, remember both my boyfriend and neighbor (the dog's owner) trying to coax him out, push him through, and pull him out, but... my boyfriend does not remember it, the photo is not on my phone, and my neighbor...he has apparently been deployed for five months, and went on leave a few weeks prior to deploying, taking the dog to stay with his parents during his deployment. In fact, I have an email on my phone from him shortly after he deployed, asking if I could go over and cover his grill, he'd left it uncovered.
I have noticed other, small incidences... things not being in their set place, but arranged somewhere else. Books which I don't remember purchasing in my home, and books I remember purchasing not there. In fact, I told my boyfriend the names of a few books, and told him the plotlines...but I had apparently not read them or purchased them, but can remember reading them. Not just the contents of the books, but where I was while reading them, what I was drinking, how long it took me to finish, and in some cases, remember what I was wearing while reading them.
I was going to write this off as some bizarre occurence of just...losing my mind, but couldn't shake the feeling. The chicken incident... I remember purchasing the chicken after reading an ad on Craigslist, a man selling other chickens. I remember contacting him. I remember driving to his home, seeing the chickens he had listed, seeing the black Maran, and asking him if he'd sell that one instead. And I remember that he did.
I took my boyfriend with me, and we drove to this man's home. Mostly it was to prove to myself that this was all in my mind, that I'd never gone to this man's house, never bought a chicken, that I couldn't find this house because it was all in my head. But, when I arrived, I found the house. We knocked on the door, and asked if had sold a copper Maran seven months previously. We were expecting him to say he did not own chickens, certainly not a copper Maran (they are not a very common chicken)...and we were both amazed when he said, yes, he had...but to his neighbor. When I asked if he'd ever listed it on Craigslist, he stated no, he'd never considered selling her until his neighbor offered to buy her. Which is exactly the same thing that happened when I bought her. I found the house again, after apparently having never been there, and it was the right house, with the same chicken...
This is the only thing I have that "proves" that I'm not completely crazy, and I realize it's irrational to believe that, but I have no idea what is wrong in my head, that I have memories of things which haven't happened, and no memories of things I have proof that happened.
Am I crazy? What could be wrong with me? I don't trust my own memories, even though they feel right.
I own pet chickens, and feed them every morning before starting my day. They all ran out to greet me, except one, which I remember to have (a black Copper Maran) was not in the chicken run. All the others were still there, including one which I do not remember ( a barred rock). I called my boyfriend at work (no answer) and then texted him, telling him that Lenore (name of black chicken) was missing, and there was a strange chicken in our chicken run. I searched all over the yard for her, thinking she might have flown the coop, but couldn't find her.
He texted back, along the tunes of "what are you talking about? Who is Lenore?" He had no idea what I was talking about. I then sent him a picture of the strange chicken, who he then named. Apparently, we have never owned a Copper Maran, and have had this barred rock for about seven months (approximately around the same time I remember buying the Copper Maran.) When he came home, he showed me numerous pictures on his phone of this barred rock with our other chickens, going back months. There were no pictures of the copper Maran. In going through my own phone, I also found many pictures of the barred rock, none of the Copper Maran. In the face of all of this evidence of this black chicken never existing except in my head, I wrote this off as a bizarre, but harmless occurrence of me being wrong, though it felt like my memories were right, and all of this undeniable evidence was wrong, however illogical. (Not sure if I am explaining that correctly? Hopefully someone knows what that means/feels like)
This same day, while texting back and forth about this strange chicken and the whereabouts of the nonexistent one with him, I was trying to go about my day as normal. While straightening up the bedroom and stripping the sheets to be washed, I noticed the bedside table on my side of the bed had been refinished. I refinish our furniture as a hobby, but had not gotten to the table yet. I'd purchased the table, along with a roll top desk, at an antiques flea market some two months prior, but the table was in better condition than the desk (just a few scratches on the top tabletop, and legs) so I'd decided to use the table as-is for awhile, and refinish the desk first. In my memory, I was nearly done sanding down the desk, the bedside table had not been started yet, but... there it was, finished, and after going into the garage to check on the desk, it hadn't been started yet. It was in the same condition as the day I brought it home. When I brought this up with my boyfriend, he again stated that I was wrong... and showed me, on my Facebook, a post I'd made three weeks prior, when the bedside table was finished being sanded, and ready to be oiled. By this point, he was worried and began questioning my stress level. I also began questioning and doubting my own mind.
While going through my phone, I noticed other strange things... pictures I remember taking are gone, other pictures I don't remember taking are there. For example, I remember my neighbor's dog getting stuck in the drainage pipe under my driveway, approximately three months ago, and taking a photo of him after being pulled out, covered in mud, still holding the ball he'd gone in to retrieve, but... it didn't happen. I remember it clearly, remember both my boyfriend and neighbor (the dog's owner) trying to coax him out, push him through, and pull him out, but... my boyfriend does not remember it, the photo is not on my phone, and my neighbor...he has apparently been deployed for five months, and went on leave a few weeks prior to deploying, taking the dog to stay with his parents during his deployment. In fact, I have an email on my phone from him shortly after he deployed, asking if I could go over and cover his grill, he'd left it uncovered.
I have noticed other, small incidences... things not being in their set place, but arranged somewhere else. Books which I don't remember purchasing in my home, and books I remember purchasing not there. In fact, I told my boyfriend the names of a few books, and told him the plotlines...but I had apparently not read them or purchased them, but can remember reading them. Not just the contents of the books, but where I was while reading them, what I was drinking, how long it took me to finish, and in some cases, remember what I was wearing while reading them.
I was going to write this off as some bizarre occurence of just...losing my mind, but couldn't shake the feeling. The chicken incident... I remember purchasing the chicken after reading an ad on Craigslist, a man selling other chickens. I remember contacting him. I remember driving to his home, seeing the chickens he had listed, seeing the black Maran, and asking him if he'd sell that one instead. And I remember that he did.
I took my boyfriend with me, and we drove to this man's home. Mostly it was to prove to myself that this was all in my mind, that I'd never gone to this man's house, never bought a chicken, that I couldn't find this house because it was all in my head. But, when I arrived, I found the house. We knocked on the door, and asked if had sold a copper Maran seven months previously. We were expecting him to say he did not own chickens, certainly not a copper Maran (they are not a very common chicken)...and we were both amazed when he said, yes, he had...but to his neighbor. When I asked if he'd ever listed it on Craigslist, he stated no, he'd never considered selling her until his neighbor offered to buy her. Which is exactly the same thing that happened when I bought her. I found the house again, after apparently having never been there, and it was the right house, with the same chicken...
This is the only thing I have that "proves" that I'm not completely crazy, and I realize it's irrational to believe that, but I have no idea what is wrong in my head, that I have memories of things which haven't happened, and no memories of things I have proof that happened.
Am I crazy? What could be wrong with me? I don't trust my own memories, even though they feel right.
