Thanks To A Relative, Nearly Everything From My Pseudo-Dementia Exhibition Is Rotting In A Dumpster

I put this in a devlog, but I will also transcribe the post below:

Hey everyone. I have some very sad news to share.

I found out from the relative who has been “holding onto my stuff” that nearly 99% of it was thrown away when they retrieved it around this time last year. They told me at the time that some things that “weren’t necessary” would be disposed of, but I didn’t think that meant pretty much all of it.

To say I’m devastated would be an understatement I think. I’m going through a period of serious grief, because there are so many things from my pseudo-dementia recovery period that are now just . . . gone.

The novel I started when I entered inpatient in April 2022, and was working on all throughout my recovery. The novellete I finished at my last residential in early 2023. Stories from my childhood that I retrieved from the home I grew up in. My tarot decks, including the first one I ever bought. My stuffed bear, Michelle, who had been with me since I was 6 years old. Multiple journals I kept during my recovery period, chronicling everything because I knew I wouldn’t be able to remember my experiences if I didn’t. Now that those journals are gone, I won’t be able to recall the majority of my memories of my time there anymore. Those memories will stay buried without a way to bring them back up/call them to the front of my mind; that’s how my brain works nowadays.

My copic markers. Multiple important government documents. My binder of lyric games, and all of my supplies to play them (dice & multiple decks of cards [with different themes unique to each]). My physical copy of I’m sorry did you say street magic, the latter of which I used to run sessions in at multiple recovery centers. My copies of Alice Oseman’s books. The notes I made for Romance The Backrooms early in its development process. The sketchbook where I came up with the concept of a virtual band called Sailor Souls, drawing multiple comics with the characters that helped others on their mental health journeys as well as myself. The sketchbook with the storyboards for my last Heart Town Hunters animatic.

There’s so much more, but I’m literally incapable of remembering it all.

I’m glad that this game is at least here to preserve the memory of some of the items that were thrown away, but there’s so much gone—that small victory feels insignificant in comparison to the loss. I don’t know what I’m going to do or where I’m going to go from here, but I knew I wanted to let those who have played this game know what has happened.

That’s all, I think. Thank you for reading.

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That’s very sad! :frowning:

All I can say is: Don’t let this world (which is woeful sometimes) have the last laugh on you!

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That’s simply criminal. My deepest sympathies go out to you.

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Ugh, I’m so sorry, that’s awful! Having the digital recreation is better than nothing I guess, but that’s not much comfort after such an awful thing.

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Gosh, that’s awful to hear and I’m sure it’s devastating to lose not just personal items, but writings and diaries. The idea that someone would make a decision for you of what’s “important” is a violation. While I can understand storing items like for someone else can be a bummer, anyone should understand that stuffed animals carry specific emotional attachment. And any scribbled piece of paper can be subjectively important. How hard is it to stack paperwork in a cardboard box and stash it in a closet or the attic for a loved-one?

I know it is probably no comfort, but in my experience sometimes the Universe makes a decision to forcibly detach you from experiences and and memories you cling onto to allow you some breathing space to move on and create new things and make new attachments. Not that it excuses a person doing that without your consent.

In writing, I’ve learned that good ideas do not go away so even though you might have to re-write your novel from memory it will be better in the rewrite with your new perspective and objectivity. My writing group always said “If your computer eats a file, that’s the Muse telling you to do a new draft.” And writing something the second time is always easier than writing it the first time.

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That’s shattering. So sorry to see this.

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So sorry this happened.

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