#Memory Loss Support

[marinterrace]

Providing memory care for seniors requires a thoughtful, individualized approach to ensure both comfort and dignity. One of the core aspects of memory care is the development of personalized care in Mill Valley, California. Tailoring care plans to each senior’s unique needs helps enhance their quality of life and promotes a sense of security. This type of care allows staff to address specific preferences, routines, and challenges, ensuring that every resident feels valued and understood.

[cei1ne]

—You have Amnesia and it begins taking a toll on you and your husband

༺���༒ Summary: You got into a accident which lead to you not remembering your life with your husband. As you arrive and don’t remember a single detail, it slowly begins to burn Bakugou out and in the end, an argument leads into you falling into a coma.

* . : ｡ ✿ Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader

˚ ೃ࿔₊•Tags: Angst; Angst with fluff ending; Fluff; married life; Aged!up

*˚⁺‧͙Warnings: Amnesia; Angst; swearing maybe; Coma; Arguments?

•˖*⑅♡Word count: 4.2k

ˏˋ°•*➷A/N: I was feeling sad and thought, why not make a scenario of a tsundere man breaking down and living a miserable life after his wife he adored more than anything can’t remember a single about him? English isn’t my first language! I’m sorry if you shed a tear xx

The hospital smell still lingers on you as you step out of the car, Katsuki’s hand firm yet careful on the small of your back. He walks beside you silently, guiding you up the path to your home—his home. The once-familiar sight of the towering house now feels foreign, even intimidating.

Katsuki hasn’t said much since picking you up. His usual fiery demeanor has been subdued, his sharp tongue dulled into quiet restraint.

“It’s your home,” he mutters, his voice unusually soft, laced with an almost painful longing. “Our home.”

The words hang in the air as you stare at the house, your mind blank. He’s hoping for something—anything—a flicker of recognition in your eyes. But nothing comes.

After the accident, everything changed. The doctors had explained the severity of the head trauma, the memory loss that might be permanent. It wasn’t your fault, but that didn’t make it any easier for him to accept. Katsuki Bakugou, the number one Pro Hero, couldn’t protect the one person who mattered most to him.

He takes a deep breath, opening the door for you. “Go ahead.”

You step inside hesitantly, the space feeling vast and unfamiliar. The faint smell of burnt caramel—a scent that should’ve been comforting—makes you wrinkle your nose instead.

“It’s…nice,” you say after a pause, your voice awkward and distant.

His ruby eyes narrow slightly as he studies you. The words feel hollow, a far cry from the warmth and vibrancy you used to radiate. You weren’t smiling like you used to. You weren’t cracking jokes or teasing him like you used to. And most of all, you weren’t looking at him the way you used to—with love.

“Take your time,” Katsuki says gruffly, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep himself from reaching for you. “It’ll… come back.” But even he doesn’t sound convinced.

__________________________________________

Weeks after the accident, your condition had not improved much. The bruises on your face, though fading, were stark reminders of what had happened. Bandages still wrapped tightly around your head served as a physical representation of the mental gap that now defined your life. Your movements were slow and cautious, often unsteady. Sometimes you��d pause mid-step, as if unsure where to go or what to do, and Katsuki would rush to steady you, his hands firm but trembling slightly.

Your demeanor had shifted entirely. Where there was once a spark in your eyes, a curiosity and a fire that drew people to you, now there was only a distant emptiness. You spoke softly, often hesitantly, as if the words you were saying didn’t belong to you. Simple things—like recognizing objects around the house or remembering how to make tea—became monumental tasks, and each failure weighed heavily on you.

Katsuki noticed it all. Every stumble, every fleeting expression of frustration that crossed your face when your memory failed you, he took it to heart. At first, he masked his emotions well, trying to be the strong one, as he always had been. But it was impossible to hide the cracks forming beneath the surface. COME BACK GIRL WE NEED YOU

_________________________________

He started skipping meals, spending every waking moment either helping you or drowning himself in work to avoid his thoughts. His patrols as the number one pro hero became a crutch—an escape. But even there, he wasn’t the same. He’d snap at his sidekicks over minor mistakes or growl at reporters asking about your condition.

When he was home, he barely slept. Most nights, he sat by your side, watching you sleep restlessly. Sometimes you’d mutter in your dreams—names of people he didn’t recognize, fragments of a past life that wasn’t tied to him—and it killed him inside. He’d reach out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, hoping that maybe, just maybe, something would change.

But nothing did.

His physical appearance began to reflect his inner turmoil. Dark circles formed under his eyes, and his sharp jawline became slightly hollowed from missed meals. His usual confidence—bordering on arrogance—was nowhere to be found. Even his explosions, once a controlled release of power, became unpredictable and reckless during training sessions. He was pushing himself too hard, too fast, as if trying to outrun the reality of what had happened.

_________________________________

One night, after a particularly grueling day, he came home to find you sitting in the living room, staring blankly at a family photo. It was one of the two of you from a happier time—your arms around each other, your smiles radiant. You turned to him as he entered, your eyes filled with confusion.

“I… I don’t remember this,” you said, your voice trembling. “Was I happy?”

The question shattered him. He crossed the room in three strides, dropping to his knees in front of you. His hands cupped your face, his eyes burning with an intensity that only he could possess.

“Of course you were,” he said, his voice breaking. “You were the happiest damn person I knew. You lit up every room you walked into. You made me… you made me better.”

Tears welled in your eyes, but they didn’t fall. You nodded, as if trying to accept his words, but the doubt in your expression was unmistakable. He felt his chest tighten, the weight of your uncertainty crushing him.

Later that night, after he thought you had fallen asleep, he sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. He didn’t hear you stir, didn’t see the way you watched him through half-lidded eyes as his shoulders shook with silent sobs. NOOO STAY STRONG MY BABY

_________________________________

The days pass in a haze of awkward silences and hesitant conversations. Katsuki tries to act normal, but the cracks in his fiery confidence start to show. Every time you flinch at his touch or hesitate to respond to him, it’s like another stab to the heart.

You spend most of your time wandering the house, unsure of what to do with yourself. Katsuki keeps himself busy training or patrolling as much as possible, but he never strays too far. He’s always home by nightfall, keeping a watchful eye on you from a distance.

One evening, you’re sitting at the kitchen table, staring at a plate of food that’s long gone cold. Katsuki sits across from you, arms crossed, his expression tight with frustration.

“You haven’t eaten all day,” he says, his voice low but firm.

“I’m not hungry,” shut your big back ass up girl you murmur, not meeting his eyes.

“Damn it, you’ve got to eat something,” he snaps, the edge in his voice slipping through despite his efforts to keep calm.

You look up at him, frowning. “I said I’m not hungry.” I say as I’m devouring a whole chips bag while writing this

The silence that follows is heavy, the tension between you palpable. Katsuki stands abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. “Fine. Do whatever the fuck you want.” He stalks out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Later that night, you lie in bed, tossing and turning. The bed feels too big, too empty, even though Katsuki is right there beside you. His back is turned to you, his breathing steady but shallow. You can tell he isn’t asleep.

Your eyes drift to the walls, lined with framed photographs. Pictures of the two of you—laughing, kissing, holding each other. There’s even one of you in his hero agency, grinning proudly with your arms around his neck.

You should feel something looking at them. Nostalgia, love, something. But all you feel is emptiness.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper into the darkness.

Katsuki hears you. His fingers twitch, and for a moment, it seems like he might turn over and pull you close. But he doesn’t. Instead, he clenches his fists under the covers and mutters, “It’s not your fault.” MY SHAYLAAA

_________________________________

As the weeks drag on, Katsuki begins to unravel. The fiery determination that once defined him is now replaced by a simmering frustration he can barely contain.

One afternoon, you’re sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the TV. The news is playing, but you’re not really paying attention. Suddenly, a memory surfaces—a fleeting thought about a song you used to like.

“I remembered something!” you exclaim, sitting up straighter.

Katsuki, who’s just walked in from patrol tired and pissed as always, raises an eyebrow. “Yeah? What is it?”

“I think I used to like that song… the one that goes, uh…” You hum a few bars, struggling to recall the rest.

His face falls. “That’s it? That’s what you remembered?”

You frown. “Well, yeah. It’s a start, right?”

He scoffs, rubbing the back of his neck. “A start? That’s useless.” I can’t blame him, I hate this girl even tho I created her

The words hit you like a slap. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he snaps, his voice rising. “Every time you remember something, it’s something stupid like a song or a movie. What about us? What about the things that actually matter?” Boy it’s not our fault ain’t no way you’re blaming us!?

“I’m trying my hardest!” you shout, standing up to face him. “Do you think I like not remembering? Do you think I chose this?”

The argument escalates quickly, both of you yelling over each other until finally, Katsuki storms out, slamming the door behind him.

_________________________________

You wander aimlessly, tears streaming down your face. Your vision blurs as you make your way to the kitchen, your heart pounding in your chest. You don’t see the edge of the counter until it’s too late.

The sharp corner slams into your injured head, and you collapse to the floor. Pain explodes in your skull, and darkness begins to creep into the edges of your vision.

Katsuki hears the loud thud and rushes in, his heart stopping at the sight of you on the floor.

“Shit!” He’s at your side in seconds, his hands trembling as he lifts your head gently. Blood seeps through the bandage on your head, staining his hands and the floor.

“Y/n, stay with me!” he barks, his voice shaking with panic.

You look up at him weakly, your lips trembling. “Katsuki… I’m sorry… I’m sorry for being a horrible wife…” “UNNIE” — “Young-mi! Young-mi!”

“Don’t say that!” he growls, his voice breaking. “You’re not horrible. You’re perfect. You hear me? You’re fucking perfect.”

Your eyes flutter shut, and Katsuki’s heart feels like it’s being ripped out of his chest.

_________________________________

The next few weeks are hell. You’re in a coma, and Katsuki is barely holding it together. He spends every waking moment by your side, refusing to leave the hospital even when his friends and colleagues beg him to take care of himself.

His once fiery spirit is now a pale ember. He hasn’t shaved in days, his stubble growing thick along his jaw. Dark circles rim his eyes, and his usual sharp demeanor has dulled into quiet despair.

He talks to you constantly, hoping that somehow, his voice will reach you.

“Wake up, damn it,” he mutters one night, his head resting on the edge of your bed. “You can’t leave me like this. You’re too stubborn to give up, remember?” We love a man that motivates us

But the days pass, and you remain unresponsive.

_________________________________

One evening, Katsuki finally succumbs to exhaustion. He falls asleep with his head resting on your lap, his hand gripping yours loosely. For once, his face is peaceful, the lines of worry softened in sleep.

When your eyes flutter open, the first thing you see is him—your Katsuki. Memories come rushing back in fragments, like pieces of a shattered mirror slowly coming together.

“Katsuki…”

His eyes snap open, and for a moment, he looks dazed. Then he sees you—really sees you—and his heart nearly stops.

“Y/n?” His voice cracks as he sits up, his hands cupping your face gently. “You’re awake?”

You nod, tears streaming down your cheeks. “I remember… I remember everything.”

The relief that washes over his face is indescribable. He pulls you into his arms, holding you so tightly it’s as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he mutters into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. “I thought I lost you.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, clinging to him. “I’m so sorry, Katsuki.”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes red and glassy. “Don’t be. You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

He kisses you, his lips gentle but desperate, as if trying to pour every ounce of his love and relief into that one moment.

For the first time in weeks, the house feels like home again. For the first time in weeks, he feels like life is worth living again. For the first time in weeks…

He feels alive.

[badwolfarcadiabay]

[risartblog]

#miqomarch day 11 :: Loss

Overwhelming.

[raventrigonsdaughter]

Ok so, thunderbolts spoilers?

Me about taskmaster before black widow

Me about taskmaster after BW

Me during that shit in thunderbolts

AND NOW ME, AFTER FINDING OUT WHAT THE ORIGINAL PLANS FOR ANTONIA WERE

WHY MARVEL, WHY????? SHE WAS GOING TO BE THEIR LITTLE SISTER OMG SHE DESERVED SO MUCH BETTER, ANOTNIA DESERVED BETTER AND OLGA KURYLENKO DESERVED BETTER FUCK YOU, BRING HER BACK IDC HOW

[brittmarihaxoxo-blog]

Accurate footage of my brain fog.

[sunmistails-blog]

Please please please can someone write a fic where Saitama gets blasted by a honesty beam; inyected with the legitness™ serum or make some villain beat him up with the cheese of truth. Mess him up! Let him express his thoughts, his true feelings... Make him blurt out how he appreciates the people in his life even when he tries so hard to stay silent... pleasee make everyone uncomfy. Make him cry.

[space-blue]

Relationships : Tarkin & Ahsoka, Luthen Rael & Ahsoka, - & Original characters and more to be added!

For Ahsoka Tano the war never really ended, it transformed into something else—different rules, new enemies, and uncertain alliances. As she struggles to build a network worthy of being called a rebellion, a run-in with Imperial forces leaves her responsible for a wounded man, an old adversary who doesn't recognise her, or the world around him.

Amnesia, angst and feels, h/c, identity loss and crisis, false identity, early rebellion era, canon divergence (no rebels or mandoverse at all)

Art by the fantastic @shahs1221 - see the whole piece here

A big thank you to everyone who stayed invested in this fic despite it being just a project in the air for 2 years now. You helped keep the dream alive with all the asks! xD

[townofcrosshollow]

Was talking to my partner about BPD and I mentioned that BPD and DID have almost exactly the same symptoms and they were like "What no that's not true" so I looked it up and the first thing I see is a person with DID complaining about the DSM because BPD and DID have almost exactly the same symptoms

[ddeck]

Windu and Quinlan's dynamic can be something so personal

[borderlinebrooke-bpd]

BPD and Memory Loss

Is there a connection between #MemoryLoss and #BorderlinePersonalityDisorder?

While patients with BPD showed regular results when tested in verbal and nonverbal ways, a significant amount of them reported problems with memory in their everyday lives.

#BPD is clinically characterized by emotionally unstable and impulsive cognitive behavior, and current theories emphasize the disruptive potential of negative emotion on cognition.

(cognition - the mental action or process of acquiring knowledge and understanding through thought, experience, and the senses.)

A recent study found that the verbal memory of patients with BPD was normal when no distractions or neutral distractions were presented. However, their performance was impaired when negative distractions were introduced.

Pre-clinical investigation showed patients with BPD displayed enhanced retrograde and anterograde #amnesia when presented with negative stimuli. Positive stimuli, however, caused no negative effects. These results suggest the potential of emotion-induced cognitive dysfunction in individuals with #BPD.

One cognitive domain where interference with emotion can be characterized is episodic or autobiographical memory. Autobiographical being, a high-valued memory containing knowledge about the self. Episodic being conscious recollections of personal experiences including details like when and where they happened.

Studies have also revealed amygdala–hippocampal interactions during emotional episodic memory encoding, with hippocampal circuits being modulated by amygdala input.

(The amygdala is specialized for input and processing of emotion, while the hippocampus is essential for declarative or episodic memory.)

Currently, experiments are being conducted focusing on emotion-induced amnesia and hypermnesia as a potential cognitive index of hyperarousal-dyscontrol syndrome in BPD.

Hyperarousal is one of the main symptoms of #PTSD. It occurs when a person’s body suddenly kicks into high alert as a result of thinking about past trauma. Even if real danger is not present, their body acts as if it is, causing lasting stress.

Lack of emotional equilibrium is a common symptom of many psychiatric conditions, especially #BorderlinePersonalityDisorder. Stemming from this, another common symptom is dissociation, which includes symptoms of memory loss for periods of time, detachment from the self, depersonalization, derealization, distorted perceptions, and a blurred sense of identity.

Personally, I feel like it's also just hard to remember things clearly when you're rarely living in the present moment. Due to the distraction of overwhelming thoughts and emotions, those with BPD endure most of the time.

Conclusion:

Borderline Personality Disorder is, at its root, ill-formed thought patterns. When you have emotional reactions the way individuals with BPD do, they are so overwhelming that you naturally attempt to safeguard yourself from it. Recalling past negative experiences isn't pleasant for anyone, particularly those with BPD. So, in response to this, the subconscious mind attempts to block out negative memories rather than relive them later. This overtime turns into a malfunction in one's memory encoding when negative emotions are present.

-Borderline Brooke

[space-blue]

The duros smiles as she watches him—a thin, lipless, and oh-so-pitiful smile. 'Do you remember who you are?' she asks. 'Your name?' 'Ah, I'm—' The man gapes, stares down at his hands around the water pouch, rough and pink from growing new flesh. A nameless stranger's limbs. His fingers are too gnarly, the joints thicker than they ought be, the veins more prominent. Whose body is this? More importantly... Whose body should it be?

Amnesia, angst and feels, h/c, identity loss and crisis, false identity, early rebellion era, canon divergence (no rebels or mandoverse at all)

Art by the fantastic @shahs1221 - see the whole piece here

[kismetkween]

The bear and the man in the woods

this huge topic has triggered me. I think anytime the world passively dismisses assault or acknowledges that woman are in danger or anyone’s life is trivial on a broad scale I get a teensy spiral-y.

This is my most recent and accurate example of manic writing. I found this and vaguely remembered writing and knew it was about sexual issues but kind of kept bumbling on with my day.

I notated in…

[cr0wc0rpse]

Saw a post about memory loss/issues being scary but it only talked about very short term issues. Which yes is distressing and such and should still be known but. Please god can we talk about long term memory loss/issues. Not remembering the whole week. Not remembering most of the month. Not remembering past events, in details or overall or that it happened at all. Forgetting life events. That is so fucking scary and distressing

[daisyachain]

I don’t know what the hell is going on at work and I’m wise enough not to ask right now

[hayanahed]

Emergency: Help Evacuate My Family From GAZA WAR

Dear Humanity,

I'm Haya from Gaza , from a family of 8 people: my parents, two sons, and four daughters (two of them suffer from allergies).

I've witnessed the evidence of the tragedy that has struck our lives in Gaza, where my family and I have survived amidst numerous previous wars. But today, we face the most dangerous and fierce battle in the current war. The urgent need intensifies for us, as we have nothing left and are unable to secure our basic needs such as food, water, and safe shelter.

Here is our story - On October 7th, our lives changed forever, my family and I evacuated from northern Gaza to southern Gaza, hoping to return soon, but it wasn't meant to be. Our home was surrounded, burned, and then completely destroyed, Our home, once a fortress of hope, now lay in ruins, a stark reminder of our shattered dreams.

The night before we left from the north to the south was terrifying. Shelling sounds were everywhere, making a loud noise that felt like it went through our souls. Every explosions shook the ground like earthquakes, sending shockwaves of fear through our trembling bodies. filling us with fear. The air smelled of destruction and blood, making it hard to breathe. When dawn came, we saw the devastation around us, realizing our home was now a symbol of loss and despair.

We ran into the streets and with each step we took into the unknown streets, we felt as if we were plunging deeper into the abyss of our shattered existence, leaving behind everything we own in our home: Clothes, important official documents, the car, and literally it's almost everything - the enormity of our loss weighed heavily upon us.

Our home it was where we found hope, safety, and made precious memories. Losing it felt like losing years of our lives, leaving us adrift amidst the wreckage of our shattered existence.

A brief video depicting the devastation that struck our home and our entire neighborhood in Gaza.

Desperate Plea: Escaping Gaza's Allergy Nightmare

I, Haya, suffer from severe allergy to penicillin-derived medications, and my sister, Amal, also suffers from severe allergies to medications from my family such as Paracetamol and Ibuprofen.

These allergies create a deep sense of fear and anxiety for us, as we live in a constant state of tension and fear of anything that may require a visit to the hospital. We fear being given inappropriate medications due to the unavailability of suitable treatments in Gaza because of war or lack of awareness and not informing the doctor of our allergies, which could lead to serious consequences threatening our lives.

MY Father Income

Our dreams are heading towards oblivion in the labyrinth of an uncertain future

My story, along with my siblings, represents a united team of four individuals, three of whom are skilled programmers and one graphic designer. We work as freelancers in the world of freelancing.

As for my younger sister, she is a student studying at the College of Architecture. She has always carried a big dream in her heart, a dream of being part of changing Gaza, of making it more beautiful and better. She looked forward to the day when she would receive her degree and start building this dream. But the beginning of the war changed everything. The destruction of infrastructure and universities cast shadows of despair over her dreams.

When I think of my brother in Belgium, I can't help but feel deep sadness. He has been suffering from unbearable anxiety and insomnia since the outbreak of the war. Sleep eludes him at night, and his physical and mental health collapses under the weight of these heavy burdens, negatively affecting his performance at work. Problems and challenges pile up in front of him without the slightest opportunity for rest.

We all feel psychological pressure and extreme anxiety. The war hasn't been limited to external attacks but has deeply infiltrated our daily lives. We search among the rubble for a little safety and the basic resources for survival. Every day comes with a new challenge that we must overcome.

As we sway amidst the rubble of shattered dreams, our souls wrestle and our hearts beat strongly challenging the ravages of war.

Our parents earnestly seek a way to rescue us from this hell, feeling the heavy responsibility for every moment we spend under the shadows of fear and destruction. They dream of a safe place where they can build for us a better future, filled with security and hope, for we deserve life in all its meanings of comfort and peace.

Perhaps this fundraising campaign represents a light in the midst of darkness, it is indeed the only hope we cling to firmly.

I appeal to the world as a whole to hear my cry and the mournful cry of my family in Gaza. We need the helping hand that reaches out to wipe our tears and build a bridge to safety.

Your donation is not just a donation; it's an opportunity to rebuild life and brighten a better tomorrow. Be part of our hopeful story, for we need your hand to start anew.

The purpose of the fundraising campaign

The goal of this fundraising campaign is to rescue my family - my parents, my siblings, and me - through the Rafah Crossing to Egypt, which currently requires $5000 per person. This campaign is our only chance to stay alive, and I humbly request your assistance at this critical time. I will provide you with a comprehensive breakdown of the expenses, committing to transparency and clarity.

All of our important links are here https://linktr.ee/hayanahed

Verified by :

⭐️ operation olive branch, number 26 on their spreadsheet. (On Master list)

⭐️ Project watermelon,line 249 on their spreadsheet. Or you could see it as number 212 here is the photo for more clear proof

Thank you for your kindness and support.

.جزاكم الله خيراً

yours sincerely;

Haya Alshawish.