I have the forgetting disease. Two different forgetting diseases, in fact - both schizophrenia and ADD.
This is, ironically, a hard thing to hold on to, because see above re: I have the forgetting disease.
The thing that scares me most about this, when I'm put together enough to recall it, is the idea that I'll stop growing. Stop recalling old lessons and using them as springboards. Stop being able to build on my foundations. And unfortunately, conversations I've had with people close to me have said that this is already happening & I'm usually unaware of it.
The problem from my perspective is a little more complex than that. We'll get to that. Right now, I need to explain to the best of my ability what I forget.
In my head, I keep ascribing the two 'poles' of "not writing to the point of burnout" to two different groups of girlfriends. To Sable and Resti, I ascribe the view that I should quit writing and focus only on having fun and being with people I love; to Katherine, my wife, I ascribe the view that I should give up social interactions and focus only on writing. Both of them are sort of kind of in these rough zones but only by contrast; in practice, both would likely be happier if I was happy, socially enmeshed, and writing things I enjoyed.
It's true that Katherine sometimes pushes me to write or otherwise do large things - such as going to a local anime con last summer, and getting onto canada disability benefits - and ascribes value to the work over social connections, but she also is invested in my happiness (as her nudges to touch grass show) and isn't in favor of me doing make-work projects just to fill space, as I sometimes do. She likes when I'm happy and hurts when I'm sad.
Sable and Resti, meanwhile, believe that I should do writing that makes me happy and that achievement and having fun are not antonyms, which I often flanderize in my head into being on the "opposite side" from Katherine. Their view is basically correct, I'd say, when I can actually remember what it is.
And in the middle of this, I forget entirely that the Blue Hearts even, uh, exist. As is their lot being kind of quiet and sweet and supportive. They just want me to take care of myself, and that's entirely compatible with writing. Their opinion is that my self-destructive tendencies will just generally take any excuse to sabotage me, and stressing over writing happens to be a place where I'm vulnerable. (Something that Sable and Resti agreed with, when asked.)
At least I remembered the Sisters, even if I did ascribe Sable and Resti's actual opinion to them. Selective memory is a funny thing; in this case it seems that a new, "neutral" person gets to have the "synthesis" even when it's taken years for me to accept that part.
There is some hope, in the long term; recently I've been picking up old things again (and by old, I mean more than half a decade old - pre-psychosis, in other words.) Some of the old skills have stuck. And some of the things I do now, I've learned and picked up over the years since the psychosis, for sure. It's just a slower process. Here's hoping it sticks this go around, hey?
For reasons of not forgetting, I'm going to post some of my more personal blog posts here too, so I can reference them and come back to them. Who knows, maybe someone else can get something from them too!