I open my eyes and realize the world. Things are confusing and my perception feels strange. I try to remember what happened, and at that moment, I come across the biggest problem of all: remembering.

A mix of anxiety, fear, and confusion becomes a single thing. I try hard, but nothing comes. “What is happening?” I ask myself, and the answer that never comes needs to be discovered. I don’t know where I am, I don’t remember anyone. I think about just wandering through the streets, but would I be getting closer or further away from where I should go?

My only option is luck , to meet someone who knows me, and from there, look for new clues about who I am. I can't stay still, paralyzed by this fear of forgetting. If I depend on luck, I can't wait for it to come to me.

I was abandoned by my memories, and only chance can give me a shot. A friend, an acquaintance, or someone I worked with a few years ago. What place is this? Where am I? A place I don’t know is perfect for a person who doesn’t know who they are.

Clues, I need them. Standing on a street corner long enough until someone greets me seems like a good first step. I’ll also need to be cautious and not show that I don’t know who I am. Who could approach me? But this isn’t a time for fear, I already have enough of it inside me in the face of the unknown.

— “Hello!”

I look to the side and see someone, and I wish I could say I know her. I try to search for some information inside me, but it’s no use.

I notice a look of strangeness on the woman’s face. She turns her back and walks away, and before I realize it, she’s lost in the crowd. I thought about going after her, but how do you search for someone you don’t know? How could I approach her?

I decide to wait a little longer. The day goes by and I’ve lost the only opportunity I had to discover who I am or at least get a clue.

I keep my strategy, and while I stay in the same spot, hoping someone will recognize me, or that the stranger will return, thoughts of fear surround me. But I try to avoid them by thinking of other ways to solve this problem. Could I go to a police station and see if they could help me? Yes, but it would be strange for someone who doesn’t even know their own name to be there. You never know what could happen, and the last thing I need is more trouble.

Then a man, around 30 years old, approaches and asks what I’m doing there. “Does he know who I am?”

“Sir, do you need something? I’ve seen you on this corner for three days now.”

I don’t know exactly what to say, and for a moment I thought about going somewhere else to try my luck, but then I said I didn’t know who I was and that I was suffering from some kind of amnesia. He thought I was crazy and simply walked away.

I have only three options: continue where I was, go back to where I woke up, or look for help from the authorities and from there, with luck, if someone recognizes me, I might be able to take the necessary steps to discover who I am, try to find out who the people close to me are, and through them, rediscover myself. But until that happens, I’ll stay here. It worked once, maybe another opportunity will come.

I would go completely yolo.
As I don't remember anything, I will just start from scratch.
Try to figure out some admin to make sure I am eligible to exercise my rights like social security.

Furthermore, I would do crazy stuff. If I don't remember my name etc., I will try to grab the attention of media, so they could help me figuring out who I am.

The mystery of the forgotten self

Waking up in a strange place was, without a doubt, a disconcerting experience. The light filtering through the jagged glass windows illuminated the cold, disordered space, but it did not illuminate the dark labyrinth of Miriam's mind. Sitting on a bed of wrinkled sheets, she could only feel the disturbing absence of her own identity.

Day one or, rather, the first day of a new me. No memories, no letters of introduction, just an empty echo where there once was life. A corner of his mind resonated with the question: “Who am I?”

With each dawn, a new challenge awaited her. Miriam rose with the determination to reconstruct her past, like an archaeologist unearthing an ancient site, piece by piece. His first strategy was to explore the environment, a maze of ever-changing hallways and dust-laden rooms. Through the windows, he saw cities that seemed to exist in another dimension. The streets were populated with figures outlined like shadows. But there was something more disturbing, something tangible in the atmosphere: the echoes of a reality he couldn't remember.

Using a small hand mirror she found in a table drawer, Miriam began to look for clues in herself. His reflection gave him a broken image; dark eyes full of fear, but also of an inextinguishable fire. He focused on the details: a scar near his eyebrow, a mark on his wrist. They were fragments, yes, but fragments of who?

Leaving the room, Miriam ventured down a hallway adorned with twinkling lights. Suddenly, he heard murmurs. He crouched behind a corner and watched a group of people, all of them speaking in a whisper, their faces blurred like glitchy holograms. They spoke of a "Forgotten Protocol", an experiment aimed at erasing identities in order to create new beings, void of history or emotional ties.

That day, he had a stroke of luck. As they crept closer, one of them dropped a silver device, similar to a small watch. When Miriam picked it up, a flurry of images assaulted her mind: laughter, tears, an unknown family. They were memories, but not his. They were memories of others, visions of people who had also been stripped of their being.

Intrigued and determined to find out what had happened, Miriam began using the device. Every time he activated it, he could see fragments of other people's lives, but he also glimpsed a common thread: a name, "Eliot." It was a man who had been instrumental in those experiments, who seemed to have answers. The search became a mission, and with each activation of the device, he felt one step closer to his own truth.

Finally, Miriam found Eliot in a hidden warehouse, full of technology from an uncertain future. Upon confronting him, she realized that he was not just a researcher; he had been a part of her life before the loss. As they exchanged words, a flood of memories flooded her mind: the nights of laughter, the comforting hugs, the love she had shared with him. With each revelation, the fog that covered his memory began to clear.

Miriam's true destiny was not only to recover her identity, but to protect those whose stories still lay forgotten. Together, Eliot and Miriam forged a new purpose, using their collective strength to defy the Oblivion Protocol, so that no one else would wake up not knowing who they were.

Waking up every day without remembering who I am or where I am is a terrifying and disconcerting experience. In a world where every face is strange and every corner is unknown, the search for my identity becomes a crucial mission. I need to gather clues about my previous life, although each attempt seems to be plagued with more questions than answers.

The first strategy I can use is to keep a journal every morning, after opening my eyes and facing the confusion, I will write down everything I can remember, even the subtlest sensations or fragments of dreams. Each word can be a clue that brings me closer to the truth. Not only will this journal help organize my thoughts, but it will also act as a mirror to reflect on my emotions and experiences.

Additionally, I must take advantage of my environment. Observing people who pass by me can give me clues about my previous life. Maybe I recognize a familiar gesture, a laugh that echoes in my empty memory. Interacting with strangers could unlock forgotten memories: a simple “do you know me?” It can open unexpected doors.

It is also essential to explore the places around me. Each space has a story of its own, and there could be something about them that sparks a flash of recognition. Visiting local cafes, parks or shops will allow me to connect with the everyday life that was perhaps part of me before I forgot.

Technology can be another valuable ally. Searching social media or digital platforms could help me find past connections. Posting a message asking for help from those who once knew me, even if it's a shot in the dark, could bear unexpected fruit.

Finally, patience is key. Reconstructing a lost past takes time and the process can be painful. But each step, no matter how small, brings me closer to discovering the mystery of the forgotten self. In this quest, I will learn to embrace the unknown, transforming fear into curiosity as I embrace each new dawn.

I opened my eyes out of nowhere and I find above me a huge white light that reflects all my face, I feel my body a little hard, I try to move my head to the sides to see what is around me, but there was only a small window and empty walls.
I don't know where I am, I don't understand what I'm doing in that place, everything is confusing and I just need to get out of there.
With some difficulty I manage to get up from the bed and leave the room, finding a colorful corridor decorated with pictures, some of them with my face, but even so I don't know my identity, much less the people who are with me.
I enter another room trying to get something to clarify my doubts and it is there when I can find a locket, I take it with trembling and sweaty hands, but when I open it a blurred image began to take shape in my mind: laughter, music and that person with whom I had in common something that I could not quite remember.

I just wanted to collect as much information as possible as soon as possible but I only had fragments, some more blurry than others.
I went into the kitchen and could remember the smell of my favorite cake, I took an album and sat down to look at it and suddenly there was a woman looking at me with eyes I knew, her smile was familiar. I turned the photo: on the back was an address.
I try to go outside and everything is worse, I find no direction or course but intuition as a survival strategy and I reach a giant house where when I enter the garden I see a figure in the distance totally amazed and immobile and when I get closer I realize that it is the person of the locket but more adult. With tears in her eyes she says “DESPERTASTE MAMÁ”.

Her name was Patricia and she was my daughter, as she talks to me I begin to remember moments, images, a whole tide of information in my mind that are putting together the big puzzle that is in my mind. Patricia describes my life, my likes and dislikes and what for me until now was a mystery for having been a forgotten being.

Although there was fog in my mind, there were also glimpses of hope and the possibility of a future full of redemption and love between my beloved daughter, my life and me. A strange and unfamiliar path to walk, but with the support I now had, everything would be different and more positive.

Forgetting who you are is one of the worst experiences a person can go through, I lived it in my adolescence when one day I came home from school tired and went to sleep when I woke up I did not remember my name and as the minutes passed more anxiety and despair I felt, I did not want to go out and ask who I was but after a good time trying to remember I looked for my identity card and when I read my name it was so strange, as if it was the first time I read that name, I spent days getting used to my identity, I repeated my name out loud. The experience was so unpleasant that I never forgot it.

Now, if it happened to me again that I even forgot the place where I am, the first thing I would do is try to locate myself in time and space, ask date, time and place, besides knowing if someone knows me to give me proof of that, undoubtedly I would look for photographs to remember, and I would look for my parents to tell me details of my life, who better than them to know what has happened to me.

With the photographs in hand I would go to those places where they were taken and thus reconstruct my identity, I would also look for videos where I appear speaking or singing, and my notes and my calligraphy, maybe it would help me to see my own strokes.

In those moments I am sure that keeping calm is the best and the hardest thing to do, so I would try to drink tea to help me relax.

waking up in a completely unfamiliar place is my greatest fear and if one day I would forget everything about myself, I would probably be much depressed at first and confusion would reign over me but perhaps as time goes by, I would be living with what is present and with the people who would accept me at that time.

When I wake up, I am dazzled by the beauty of the place, a room filled with works of art, paintings and statues that reflect the meaning of the word beauty. The view from the window is magnificent, a charming garden, such an environment distracts my attention and out of nowhere, that shock of reality comes, where am I? I stop to think for a moment and emptiness takes over my being... What happened? I don't remember anything! I walk through the house and the enchantment of the place turns into terror, a room with images of human parts, what is this, how did I end up here? The only instinct that remains is fear, I desperately flee from this place and wander aimlessly through the streets of the city. In my mind, I keep wondering how I will find my home and people who know me. I don't know who was in that house with me, I can't just trust anyone. I continue without a destination, what happened to the people, everywhere I look there is someone holding some kind of device in their hand, what could this be? Out of nowhere, someone points one of these "things" at me and a flash of light fills my eyes. Did they try to blind me? What do I do? I need help... I'm sitting on the corner of a street and people hand me pieces of metal and some drawn papers. What is this? I want food! I see a stall in front of me. People exchange these items for food, i'm going to try that too. Wow, it's money, I remembered. The owner of the place was super nice. I told her my story and she helped me. I was told to look for a place called a police station. Since I don't know what it is, what it looks like or where it is, I was advised to look for a car with lights above it. Without raising any suspicions, I walk through the city streets. After a long time, I finally run towards the car the woman mentioned. I don't know why, but everyone seems happy and wants to help me. They all stop for me and honk their horns non-stop. Nothing went as planned. They didn't even listen to me, they threw me in the trunk of the car and only talked to me in a house full of people. I explained my situation and someone painted my fingers with black paint and then asked me to draw pictures of my hand. I spent 3 days there, the only good thing was having water, food and a bed to sleep in, but I couldn't go out for anything. It was then that the guard arrived and said, we found your family... Happiness took over me and out of nowhere I was taken back to the room with the beautiful works of art and statues. It was then that I found out the sad news, I had suffered a stroke and lost my memory, they say it returns with time, all I can do is wait...

You may be wondering, what about the room full of human parts? I almost couldn't believe it when I found out, my brother who is studying medicine. The images are for him to study the human body... I bet you imagined some crazy stuff too...