What Really Matters: Poems About Love, Loss, & Trauma

Chapter 20: Fugue State

Introduction to the poem: "Dissociative fugue formerly called a fugue state or psychogenic fugue, is a rare psychiatric phenomenon characterized by reversible amnesia for one's identity in conjunction with unexpected wandering or travel. This is sometimes accompanied by the establishment of a new identity and the inability to recall personal information prior to the presentation of symptoms.

After recovery from a fugue state, previous memories usually return intact, and further treatment is unnecessary. 

Fugue State

I came to, or awoke,
to find myself walking,
somewhere unknown.

I'm not sure how I got here,
where here is,
or where I am going.

A misty rain
blurs my vision
as the sun is sinking
and fog is moving,
surrounding everything.
I look at the street signs
which taunt me -
unrecognizable,
meaningless markers.

I want to run
but run where?
which way?
A sense of wanting
to go back in time.

I try to remember
but nothing comes to mind
explaining
how I got here...
where I am going...
where my home is.

I want to get back,
yes, that is it,
back to another time.

I begin to question
whether I even know
for certain
who I am?

Hour after hour passed and
it has gotten dark and very cold.
The winter streets are slick.
There is no sidewalk
cars come around each corner,
far too fast,
coming far too close to me,
their lights in my face.

I tell myself with each car approaching
that it will safely avoid me,
just like the car before it did...
that the lightening
will wait
until I get somewhere
not home – A part of me
knows my home is gone
but maybe I can get somewhere
relatively safe...
and the dogs I hear
will stay away,
not even noticing me...

No one even knows
where I am,
much less cares,
when I'll be home.

Awareness trickles in,
like the thinning fog.
Memories.

What I knew
believed
was that this...
being alone,
lost,
without a sense
of identity
was a state of mind
that would endure
follow me...
and I would
continue to
walk
unknown streets,
in unknown places,
alone
and nobody
is waiting for me
anywhere.

Then I begin to think
that things look a bit
familiar but I'm uncertain.
I want to run
but I'm tired
and unsure how far
I have to go.

I try to remember
but nothing comes to mind
to explain
how I got here...
where I am going...
where I live -
where my home is.

The people I pass
look unfriendly -
not dangerous;
they just don't convey
anything resembling kindness
or friendship.
They don't know me.
They don't pay me much attention.

What would I say anyway?
Ask them to tell me who I am?
Or ask where I am?
I cannot ask how to get
where I am going
because I do not know that.

I don't know if I'm afraid of the ridicule
or convinced of the futility
in even trying to get help.

I remember falling to the ground
Out of weakness, not reverence,
and prayerfully crying out -
"Please help me."

How pointless -
to believe.

But I have a roommate,
there is a convenient store,
where I stop
and call my roommate
and I wait.