She's my toughest critic

I never know where to start when I'm writing something. Do I make it sound dramatic? Or do I just start rambling? I'm the strangest person I know. I started blogging as a small escape for myself. I got addicted and now it's a release. I also need something to look back on. As my memory gets worse and worse for no explainable reason,
I'm afraid I will wake up one day like my grandmother with dimentia. I repeat myself in conversations, I can hardly remember what I did the day before. So I find myself constantly documenting things. I'm starting to wonder if it goes hand in hand with my anxiety. When I get really nervous or stressed, my mind erases like a chalk board. People think I'm doing it on purpose and I'm not.
I'm frustrated because the envelope that had haydens social security card is gone. It was in a pile of pictures.

Spent 7 hours in the SS office today for medi-cal for the baby.

Now waiting for andrew to get home. Candles (check) tiny outfit (check) newly shaven legs (check) boyfriend???( uhh MIA)


-- Post From My iPhone