Pride before the fall

I wish I could describe to you all the feelings going through my head. It's not so much an extra sensation, but lack thereof. 5 days ago I was in a motorcycle accident that I can't remember at all. I don't remember anything except waking up in the hospital 19 hours after I'd crashed, or was hit, or ran into something, or whatever the hell happened. I could tell you the name of the street I grew up on but I don't remember what color my neighbors house was. I could tell you the name of my boss but not where we meet for work. I remember my family, my Friends, my cat, but damn it all if a thick haze covers the strangest details of my life. I was knocked out cold for 9 hours, I can only imagine what kelly was going through. This trip has been so amazing, I apologize that my first post in a few weeks is to tell you all that I may not remember your name next time we meet. The pain meds leave me in a haze of forgetfulness, I'm in paradise but can't get over that fact that I don't remember the name of my first girlfriend in middle school. I have two options today. Pain I can't stay awake through, or a comatose laze that leaves my mind so foggy and slow. Even now as i write this, I can't remember what it was I wanted to say. The pain isn't worth a clear mind. Or is it? 'Tis only flesh though, and flesh will heal. My spirit however, is strong. My mind however, is weakened. I have two broken bones in my cheek, only fractures. I also have one in my eyebrow. My left eye, on the hair side of my pupil is blood red, I look like a zombie from 28 days later. I've ridden on a crocodile, snorkeled through coral jungles, played with monkeys and been picked up by elephants. All this, my dear Friends, is shadowed by the intense worry I have that I'll never have the same mind again. The last thing I remember is Kelly pleading with me 'Don't go off on that bike, it's dangerous at night' I laughed in my head, that I, an experienced rider, could ever get into an accident. Pride comes before the fall. quite literally. Now I pay dearly for my hubris. Now I can't go scuba diving for fear my face will collapse. Now I live with an ever looming blood clot in my left sinus. Constantly spewing brown/black blood from my nostril. Now I sleep at night and dream away my last memories. Last night I had a dream Sarah was in, it was like I re-lived some trip we had taken. Now I live with not being able to wrap my mind around whether or not it was real. What was her last name? Was it all real or just a dream? I fell cursed to dream away all the memories I've had. Greg was my freshman roomate, the night before last I dreamed of us watching some action movie in our room...was it will smith? I saw the room perfectly, like a crystal clear picture pasted on a wall. Today, however, someone or something has painted thick grey over it, I couldn't tell you a single detail. My greatest fear is that my mind is slipping, that the CT scan missed some tremendous blood clot slowly leeching away at the things i hold dear. My high school teachers? I could give you a name but couldn't point out a face. My distant memories are falling apart...Tears come to my eyes as i think that I may never be the man I once was, that my trip to paradise will also send me to my own personal hell. Nostalgia is something I love most in this world, like a bad hangover my fondest memories are slipping away. I hope these are only the drugs prescribed to me, I hope it all comes back, I hope I hope I hope. Why didn't my legs break? Why didn't I loose an eye? Anything but my memories. In a mans on self-made prison this is all there is to hold on to. You watch a movie like memento and shudder at the thought. I try to stop taking the drugs to see if my memory becomes clear, it's just so exhausting to move, so desperately achy. This must sound so desperate. I feel so desperate. I can clearly see the thick jungle we walked through only a week ago, but how long can I hold onto this memory? How long before I truly live one day at a time. I was blessed by a Buddhist monk the morning before my accident. So glad I'm not dead, but so worried I've found a fate worse than injury. kelly has been so kind and loving. Will I wake up one day and not know who she is? I know this must be depressing to read, understand my spirits are high, but as i write this, as i reflect on everything, I can't help but feel so much regret for wasted time, wasted things, wasted potential. Will I walk away from this a new man with the same mind. Or someone none of you know at all, unrecognizable to old faces. I will write about our trip before this. Undertsand I've journaled a million different expereinces but haven't had the time to write them in here. Haven't had the time. Hah. Thailand is an amzing place and I must fight constantly to ensure I don't treat it like my own hell. Depression is the name of todays post, tommorrow I hope to be in better spiritis. I only fear to sleep, fear to dream away another great memory. I must relax, I must concentrate, must remember...anything. I'll write to you all again when I'm through with these god-forsaken drugs. When I can think clearly. When I can, hopefully, remember who I'm writing for. If you're reading this then I love you now and always, and I pray to God, Buddha or whatever that I always remember you. That I always remember...something.