One Simple Strategy to Help Me Remember When I am So Quick to Forget

Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

I forget things. Many things. Like birthdays, that I am loved, writing Thank You notes, and that Icy Hot painfully burns my neck skin. But I have found one strategy that is remarkably effective in helping me remember. And I was reminded of this with the Icy Hot.

I wear the brunt of my stress in my neck and am often employing many types of relief. If I can’t get to acupuncture, I try different home remedies like a heating pad or the Hypervolt or roll-on Icy Hot. This last one my husband suggested and the first time I used it, I lay moaning next to him in bed as it proceeded to burn my skin like a bad result from too much sun.

The night ended with me running cold water over my neck under the kitchen faucet.

A few months passed and once again my neck was hurting. And, being my forgetful self, I reached for the Icy Hot. That night, as I again leaned over the kitchen sink trying to rinse the ointment off, I berated myself for my forgetfulness and brainstormed better strategies for remembering. Then, I applied a solution that seemed the most straightforward.

A few weeks later, my son asked what might help his sore arm and my husband again suggested Icy Hot. I was sitting in the living room when I heard my son ask from the bathroom,

“Uh, mom? Why does this say ‘MANDY NO’ on it?”

I had forgotten and was quickly reminded of the strategy I had used. I just wrote on the lid a very clear message to myself.

Mandy No.

This strategy was so effective that I decided to try it for other things, like remembering I am loved.

I am confoundedly quick to forget this. My husband tells me a lot, both that I am loved and that I forget. Part of this is because I have long cultivated the belief that love must be earned, and in this paradigm, I am generally not doing enough to receive it.

So, I made a small piece of jewelry at a friend’s art workshop to better remember. She offered an evening class to make bracelets and led us through the activity of hammering letters into a narrow metal strip and then shaping it around our wrists.

My letters read SAYAL: “Simply Accept You Are Loved.” I was amazed at how quickly this became a mainstay in my wardrobe, like a piece of armor I put on every morning.

Simply Accept You Are Loved.

Now, when I am getting dressed and the insecurity of my clothing choices begins to choke out any energy I have for the day, I put on my bracelet to remind myself that I am loved no matter what goes on my body.

When I am preparing for my classes and feel the familiar taunts of the inner voice that say I am not good enough to be a professor, I look at my bracelet and remind myself that I am loved, first and foundationally, no matter how class goes.

When I question the activity levels of my children and if they are enrolled in enough after-school things, I glance at my wrist and see those letters that tell me first I am loved. Because the root of these doubts and questions is if I don’t do enough that day, if I fail, I am not worthy of love. The bracelet reminds me that I am.

The bracelet has been such a successful, encouraging means of remembering that I started writing things to remember on my other arm. When I selected a word for the New Year around which to focus my personal growth, I decided to write it on the inside of my arm with a sharpie.

In small black letters is the word “CHOOSE,” reminding me I have agency in things that have long seemed like more objective reality than a choice I can make.

For instance, in my relationship with food. I can choose other ways to self-soothe besides french fries or cupcakes. Or in how I respond to the world around me. I can choose my reactions to things no matter what the circumstances are. Having the word spelled out on my inner arm serves as a constant hourly reminder.

Some of this I learned from my mother who has many words in her spaces that announce things she wants to remember (and things she wants my dad to remember), like important deadlines or upcoming events. She keeps a supply of dry erase markers in convenient places all around the house, like in her bathroom, so she can write reminders on her mirror.

We were recently visiting my parents and there was a message written in dry erase marker on the inside of the microwave that said “Paper Towel” to remind my dad to cover the plates of food he is reheating. She has markers in her Volkswagen Beetle so she can write on the metal interior doors and dashboard.

My son caught the vision and wrote “Grady was here” on her glove box to remind my mother of his presence, a reminder she won’t erase anytime soon.

Sometimes this method is more permanent. I see tattooed words on the arms of my students or the shoulders of friends. I, myself, got a tattoo in my early 40’s to remember where I’m from. It is of the Dogwood, the Virginia state tree, an homage to and reminder of my roots even though I have now lived in California for over twenty years.

My husband likes the idea of having words out in the open as important reminders and recently asked if we could remount an old sign we had hanging in our kitchen that I took down years ago when we remodeled. It read “Good Living.”

This is a mantra we often say to one another or to our boys when we are in the midst of a particularly good moment, like hosting our neighbors for a barbecue or sitting at the beach on a warm Saturday afternoon, or enjoying dinner together at the kitchen counter. Simple moments that we want to anchor with a powerful reminder: This is Good Living.

This conversation prompted me to create a poster for my sons that describes the values of the ReamTeam, a name we call ourselves. I hung it outside their bedroom doors as a reminder of what we are striving to be about as a family: Pay Attention, Be Generous, Practice Hospitality, Cultivate Empathy, Remember Good Living.

I see signs like this in other homes, words that are easily seen and serve as helpful reminders. Some are more general, “Live Laugh Love.” Some very specific, “Peace to all who enter here,” a reminder to both the guest and the host.

Sometimes it seems paradoxical, the need to write down what is obvious, things that we surely are the most apt to remember. This is precisely the point. There is so much noise and distraction and clutter in my head that can crowd out what is most important. I can’t often rely on my brain alone to help me remember. I need something on my arm, on a lid, on the mirror to get me outside of my head, where there is too much going on.

One important detail I am quick to forget is how helpful my anti-anxiety medication is. When I start to feel better, to live with less anxiety, I wean myself off the medication thinking my mental health issues are finished. After a few weeks, I begin to feel more and more anxious, waking up early in the morning with heavy pressure on my chest, feeling the darkness closing in from my peripheral vision. Then, I return to the medication only to begin to feel better and forget that it is precisely because I am taking the medication that I feel this way.

During a recent talk with my doctor, he gently reminded me, again, that for some of us, these medications are like eyeglasses, necessary every day. And just like people don’t question the need for eyeglasses when vision is blurry, I don’t need to question the need for anti-anxiety medication when I experience daily, recurring anxiety that can make my reality out of focus.

In response to this, I told him my Icy Hot story and that perhaps I should write, “Mandy Yes” on the lid of the Trintellix.

He thought it was a great idea.