It is strange when you see a friend you have not seen for ages – years in this case. I used to work with her, and saw her crossing the road today – I nearly said hello, but then I looked again. Was it her? I was no longer sure. It might have been her, but it might not have been her. I haven’t seen her for a good couple of years. She looked different. But it has been a good few years. It might have been her, but could have been someone who looked like her. In case it wasn’t her, I decided not to say anything.
I have a condition called prosopagnosia or ‘face-blindness’. It’s fairly obvious to me now that I’ve always had it, but it’s only over the last five years or so that I’ve recognised it as such. It means I don’t recognise peoples’ faces, even people I know well. If I see them out of context (in a place I am not expecting to see them) or if they have changed their appearance (a new hairstyle or new manner of dress) I will either not recognise them at all, or I may suspect that the person might be them, but also be completely uncertain it is (as in today’s case). The more I look at their face, the more their features will seem to become ‘fluid’ – the person-in-question’s face becomes almost a complete stranger. At the same time, still resembling, in some way, the person whom it might (or might not) be.By this time, if I am unable to recognise them by any other way (voice, manner of walking, posture) I usually wait to see if they recognise me. If I continue to try and look at them (I usually don’t – it makes me look very weird) totry and ascertain whether or not I know them, their features somehow shift further, and I become absolutely convinced that the person concerned is not the person I originally thought.
This can happen with best friends (even my flat mate Andy whom I have known for fifteen years). Meeting new people can be a nightmare – the next time I see them, I probably won’t even recognise it’s them – unless they see me first of course.
My old job was a nightmare. It was another call centre and I used to have to mark people’s telephone calls and give them feedback. There was a high turnover of staff, and people used to sit in a different position every day. The person I saw today was one of those people I used to take with me to point out whom exactly I was giving feedback to – even if I had spoken to them just the day before. In fact, it was this person who first suggested that I might have some kind of facial blindness.
I thought I saw her last week too – the first time I would have seen her for about two and a half years. That same uncertainty came down – I really couldn’t tell if it was her or not. All this sparked off an odd dream that depressed me a little – of meeting her at Hove Station, and she – or I – being late, and she was angry with me for something, and wasn’t talking to me anymore. Seeing her today (if it was her) has just increased the odd feeling that dream left with me – particularly as next week is the three year anniversary since the old call centre went into administration and we all lost our jobs.
There’s something strangely melancholy about it all.
It suddenly seems a long time since we were all at the old call centre.
