CAPRICE O’Bryant, 31, a fitness coach, lives in Los Angeles.
“Opening my eyes, I saw a woman coming towards me that I didn’t recognise.
I thought she was a nurse.
‘I’m your mum,’ she said gently, coming to stand by my bedside.
More people I didn’t recognise came into the hospital room.
My mum Vicky, now 57, told me they were my two grandmas, my dad Deon, my older sisters, Candance and Gabbie, and my twin brother Julian.
I looked at them all blankly, without a flicker of recognition.
Then it hit me: I didn’t know who I was, either.
I didn’t know my name, age, where I was from, how I’d ended up in hospital – nothing.
I felt a wave of panic as I looked at the faces surrounding me.
My family filled me in on what had happened.
They told me I was 19, had grown up in the suburbs of Chicago and had been studying neuroscience at college.
Apparently, I had epilepsy – the result of two car accidents when I was younger – which caused occasional minor seizures.
But on June 18, 2012, I had a major episode during class.
I was rushed to hospital, where I was unconscious for hours.
When I woke up later that day, my entire life had been wiped from my memory.
Doctors thought it was caused by trauma to the brain, which would resolve itself over time – but it never did.
I was suffering from retrograde amnesia, which meant I couldn’t recall anything that had happened before the seizure, but I could make new memories from that point onwards.
After a couple of weeks in hospital, I was discharged and I moved back in with my parents, but when I walked into the house I didn’t remember it at all.
Doctors thought it was caused by trauma to the brain, which would resolve itself over time – but it never did
They showed me my bedroom, but I insisted on sleeping on the sofa, where it felt safer somehow.
Weeks passed in a haze of fear and confusion.
It was like I was living someone else’s life, forced to trust strangers.
It turned out I also had a boyfriend, who I’d been with for a few months – needless to say, I didn’t remember him, either.
Meanwhile, my family showed me countless photos and told me so many little details – like how I’d always wanted to be a doctor and always ate cake with a fork, how I loved dancing and I’d cracked my front tooth aged 10.
All the things that make up a person’s life – but I felt no connection.
Though I tried to be positive on the outside, I was filled with anger and frustration.
Any time they’d reminisce, I felt like an imposter.
But, slowly, I started to accept my new reality.
Along the way, I realised that I had to stop trying to remember my life beforehand, as it just made me sad, and focus on moving forward
When Mum or my boyfriend hugged me, I hugged them back instead of just standing there.
And by the time six months had passed, I realised I loved these people, the strangers who had become my family.
I went back to college a year after I lost my memory, but then I had a small seizure after a few months and had to drop out.
I started waitressing for the next 18 months, before qualifying as a personal trainer in 2014.
The seizures were kept under control by then with medication.
My boyfriend and I got married in 2017, before separating two years later after growing apart.
Along the way, I realised that I had to stop trying to remember my life beforehand, as it just made me sad, and focus on moving forward.
So I started my own gym business in 2015 and published a book about nutrition and workouts in 2019.
I’m currently working on a second book.
Now, my family and I are so close – in fact, my twin says we are actually closer than we ever used to be.
The two of us became inseparable, even living together for three years.
I’ve found love again with Harry, 37, a fitness business coach, who I’ve been with for three years.
I’ve made my peace with losing the first 19 years of my life, and I’m so grateful for every day I can carry on making new memories.”
