Finding my keys

Oh, typical Sue

For the past 20 years, I constantly “lost” my keys in the house. And my phone. I’d frantically search, getting very worked up until inevitably they turned up in a predictable spot.

I solved the phone issue by connecting all of my devices to find my missing Idevice. I use it once a week. At least.

But the keys – I often consider getting an air tag type of tracker.

I was a person who sometimes misplaced things

I still misplace things, but I’ve changed. I don’t panic. I stand still, revisiting my steps. My arms reach out, recreating motor memories. Did I put them higher on a counter or shelf? Shove them in a pocket? Set them down planning to pick up again or put them away?

If that doesn’t work, I just stop looking. I find a distraction – tv show, music, or a book. Even a chore or task.

This distraction reduces the panic cortisol spike, allowing the part of the brain that remembers things to find the memory.

The reduced panic has made my life so much better. I can take a breath and step away from my frenetic energy, embracing a sense that I can resolve the problem. Less worst case scenario catastrophizing.

I found a humorous way to deal with missing remote controls.

Therapy and Friends

I attribute to two things – hard work in therapy and the six months I lived with my friends in 2023/2024. I didn’t need my keys b/c I had no car and the house used a keypad. Boom. My keys resided in my purse for weeks.

Plus my friends were very calm about helping me find things I did misplace.

“Sue, it has to be here. We’ll find it.”

They weren’t frustrated with me or angry. They didn’t expect me to lose things, didn’t roll their eyes, or make me feel lesser when I made a completely human mistake.

I changed because I was able to be myself. I wasn’t someone who chronically misplaced things or caused delays. I just needed support.

Therapy really helped me as well. Learned how the chemicals in my brain worked, built up a tool kit, three hours a week of support and focus.

Now I’m pretty good about keeping track of my keys. Until Tuesday.

Tuesday Afternoon

I went out back to work on my etrike with friends. We used the keys to turn it on. I used the keys to show them Gertie. They left. I went back into the yard and entered the kitchen. I remember feeling the weight of the keys in my pocket.

I didn’t need my keys on Weds or Thurs. As Friday rolled around, I did need them so went to find them. Uh oh. I poked around. Nope.

I rembered setting them down on a table or the sofa. I searched relentlessly. Finally, I grabbed my spare housekey and headed out.

One minute I held the key

I promised myself to devote part of Saturday to a search. I decided to go through my laundry, remembering the feel of my pocket. While I did get my laundry sorted, I remembered – the attic. I went up there to vlog after my friends left.

Sure enough they were on the futon, wrapped up in coverlettes. And now them are back in my purse.

My key chain also includes memories. The doodad from the first blogging conference I attended. Old pool tags. A teeny flashlight and the world’s worst compass. A carabiner. The keys from the locks before everything changed.

Then I go the store, pharmacy, or the daily cat colony visit. There’s this moment each time I pull out the key to unlock a door, a small chill down my spine as I catch my breath waiting for the tumbler to click. Every single time, every single day for over three years, I have to relive the moments from 2023. Every single time, every single day, I review my plan to get back in the house if the locks were changed. I carry my ID proving I live here. I physically clutch the keys before I close the door behind me until the ridges leave little marks in my skin.

How will you make it on your own? This world is awfully big, and girl, this time you’re all alone

I’ve decided to replicate all the keys – car, house, bike, friend’s house. This will greatly manage my stress when – like a typical human – I next lose my keys.

I added the Android version of an air tag. I guess I need to remove the ‘you are my person’ puzzle piece. Or perform a ritual to make it from the cats telling me to hurry up with unlocking the door so I can feed them?

And the old fashioned key represents all the doors I’ve yet to unlock …