allosteric load (prolonged exposure to chronic stress, aka cortisol) causes atrophy of the neurons (the neurons die) in the hippocampus.
My friends consider me a psychology nerd. I am. I research for hours and hours about the chemical compositions of different conditions writing essay after essay to conclude my information because I love having something so absolute.
Some of it, however, is because I want to know what the fuck is going on. Psychology gives me answers.
Hippocampal damages are reversible. Whatever damages are caused in 21 days of stress are undone after 21 days of being stress-free. I have a lot of days to undo. It's a work in progress that will take me far into my life. But that's okay, there are worse things.
The hippocampus holds your memories. I have a good memory. I remember being young vividly, I have memories of before I could talk. I have countless memories of things most would forget. So I considered myself a person with a good memory.
Until I started having gaps. There would be hours a day where I couldn't remember what happened, just the feeling. I've lost conversations and memories. I remember feeling stressed. When under stress, I forget things very quickly. I remember thinking many times, "Okay, I have about two minutes to remember this." I repeatedly tell myself what happened or somebody else so I'll even know what happened.
I work hard to live a very stress-free life. I forget the visuals and the sounds but never the feelings.
I remember feeling frozen.
Allosteric load also causes hypertrophy (a bunch more grow) of the amygdala. The amygdala processes sensory details. The result of having a bad hippocampus and a good amygdala is dendritic arborization. This only makes it worse. It makes it so I have panic attacks without knowing why.
They moved the boy out of my class. They changed his entire schedule. They talked with him. They told his parents. It's my fault. I'm the only one to blame. I know I shouldn't feel bad about it because of what he did but I don't even remember it. I remember walking away. I remember hating myself for not doing something. I remember feeling frozen.
He didn't do anything serious, at least I don't think. I don't remember a bit of it. Now he's going through changes he shouldn't have to and I have no way to justify it.
Fuck the atrophy in my brain.
YOU ARE READING
Quiver
Poetrya place where I've written my feelings when I felt them. it has become a story of depression and recovery, love and loss, hope and fear, and everything in-between. mostly poetry, sometimes stories. :)
