Journal Entry 1

November 7, 2009

The nurses and my mentor suggested I begin keeping a new journal, assuming I was keeping one before. I may have been but cannot recall.

I’m a bit unsure of what I put in such a journal. They suggested keeping a list and detailed description of my dreams and any other slight memories that I think could be considered memories.

My dreams are strange, really. I always feel as though I am walking through a fog on some landscape that is no where that I recognize. I can never see anything around me clearly, but I see people. Not their faces, but their outlines. Silhouettes in the fog. I can hear them speaking, but I do not recognize the voices nor can I tell what they speak of. They walk past me as if they don’t see me standing in the mist that envelopes us all. I continue to wander about in the mist until I wake in my bed.

There’s really no way to explain such a dream. I can only imagine that it’s all some sort of mental metaphor for what hazy memories I still hold. Each day I find myself knowing and recognizing more and more. I even remembered a bit the other evening. I was walking with Van through the snowy landscape of Dun Morogh when he brought me to a clearing. He showed me a broken fragment from a beer Stein that was used during the Brewfest holiday festivities. I remembered there being booths there that sold cheese and where the small stage was set, but everything else in my memory was the same as my dreams; covered in a fog.

I wonder if the fog will ever clear from my mind. I am hopeful that it will. Each day I continue to search the house in hopes that I might find my lost journal and thus be able to learn more about my past.

My search for my adopted daughter also continues. None of the clerks seem to have any information on her whereabouts. If she is, as Van says, with someone else I only hope that they are caring for her well, and that she is happy where ever she is. Regardless, I have a duty to her and an obligation as a parent to find her. I will find her.

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