Full disclosure, I was institutionalized. For two years after I was found on some desert roadside. What do you do with a person who has no memory? Amnesia is possibly one of the most terrifying things a person can experience. Not pain of the body but the soul’s torture.
In 2006, this guy wakes up in Denver, no wallet, no idea who he was. He had just the English language and the clothes on his back. After much on-camera pleading and other media coverage, someone came forward to claim him – his fiancé. Two years as a ward of the state and no one claimed me.
My memory of the Psych Hospital is blurry. I know there were private sessions and group sessions. Probably lots of drugs and the occasional shock treatment but not one kernel of my previous history dropped from the crazy tree. What memories I do have are of my friend, the man who found me on the side of the road. He was actually an attendant at the place.
First morning I woke up in a very white room. At the end of my bed was this Indian in doctor’s green scrubs.
“How you doing?” He asked.
“Can you read?”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
And he dropped the biggest bundle of newspapers I have ever seen on the foot of my bed.
“Start reading, then. You’ve got a lot to figure out.”
He started to leave but stopped just at the door.
“I named you Moses.”
“Moses? Why Moses?”
“Because you came out of the desert, man. What, I’m gonna’ name you Geronimo. I’m Cherokee not Apache and you’re no Indian. So, Moses.”
And then he left me to begin my first project – catching up with a world I couldn’t remember being a part of.
Leave a comment | tags: Amnesia, Psych Hospital, Without Memory | posted in My Personal Ramblings
I’m not sure what I am doing. That is, why blog. My first post was preposterously esoteric and I leave it posted as a reminder to myself that pompous does not equal clarity.
Let’s begin with Origin. First my name, Moses from the Hebrew meaning savior or drawn from the water. I was not drawn from the water but like my namesake, came from the desert to start a new. So says my friend who named me. Without personal history because I began “a new”, I chose Haygood as my sir name. Haygood is an altered form of the English Hawkwood, a habitational name from a place called Hawkswood in Sible Hedingham, Essex, or from Hawkwood Farm in Gosfield, Essex. To my knowledge, I am neither Welsh nor English. My last name derives from the Cherokee or my friend who found me. A former Texan, he is of that decent. Out of gratitude for saving me and our friendship, I took his last name.
Now, my origin began some twenty plus years ago. I woke up to sun and sound and a Cherokee man looking me in the eye asking if I was alright. Prior to that, I have no idea who, what or where I came from. I believe there are those who do and wish this extension of my research a pathfinder to who I am.
Leave a comment | tags: Cherokee, Haygood, Moses | posted in My Personal Ramblings
The title says it all. I found myself lost many years ago without name or history. I hope to find answers and connections through this form. The mystery of my past refuses to reconcile with the reality of my present.
I wish to clarify both.
Leave a comment | tags: No History, Who Am I | posted in My Personal Ramblings