You know I read somewhere that every time your remember a moment, you’re actually remembering the last time you remembered it. Now das confusing. What happens to a memory I’m remembering for the first time? Eh too much for my little brain.
I better get to my point before I take you down a rabbit trail of question I have about the human brain.
Here’s my point:
I don’t remember much of my childhood or teenage years. In fact one of my first super vivid memories is from my first week at collage. Now when I say I don’t remember much I mean of course I remember vague things, like my house, who I was friends with, and blah blah blah. But what I don’t remember is scenes of my life, and the memories I can call up to thought are all sad. (This is why I think Sadness from Inside Out is my spirit animal)
But after college I start remembering more scenes and pretty much only remember the good parts. (Which has created a fantasy fictitious past in which my mind always wants to visit, no mind no, it’s not real and there were hard times then too. Stay! Stay mind stay!)
The strange thing is I don’t remember the “big moments.”
So I’m starting this blog at 2am because if I get woken up when I’m sleeping I sure as heck can’t go back to sleep. (Shout out to the husband who has to work till 12am and tip toe to bed) When I was just laying in bed(trying with all my little might to go back to sleep. Maybe telling my brain to stay was a bad idea. Go brain go. Go to magical dream land. Bye Felicia) I was remembering a trip to New York City with my dad. Here’s the scenes I can’t remember: seeing Time Square and other “important things.” Now can I remember I went to those “New Yorky” places in general, well yeah I don’t have memory loss, but I can’t pull up a clear scenes.
Know what I can pull up? A quiet back street diner that I ate breakfast with my dad. Do I remember what I ate, nah but I only order the same breakfast foods anywhere but who cares sure you don’t care what I eat for breakfast (or maybe I should start posting Instagram pics of every meal! What a novel idea). I don’t even remember the conversation we had, all I remember was the feeling. I was happy.
So we’re skipping years 0-19 because for some reason I was having brain issue and only remembered sad things and now just talking about 19 on.
Yes I’ve always battled depression and anxiety since I can remember, so I know all those years weren’t only spent chasing rainbows and farting butterflies. But for some reason they hold my best memories.
My husband and I have done a lot of cool things, and had some super romantic moments, and if I do say so myself, one of the best looking gosh darn weddings ever. But when I think about loving my husband I think I a ride we had in his jeep before we started dating. I have no idea where we were going or even what we talked about most of the time, just two little things: how handsome he was and how for some reason he thought it was a cool idea to get me over my fear of guns by having me load one while he was driving. (Man that seems so stupid for us to do now. Disclaimer: never follow Craig and I’s example. )
When I think about college I don’t think of tests, I think of my best friend with her hoodie up to her eyeballs laughing and watching movie. I don’t remember the conversation and I don’t remember what we watched but I remember how much love she had for me and how much that meant to me. I swear the love I get from my husband and my best friend bar none. They even love the bad parts of me and sometimes even they think the bad parts are cute. Goodness me who could love me like that?
Here’s my point, maybe my brain remembers these moments because they’re what really matter. Time Square doesn’t matter, where ever my husband and I were driving to doesn’t matter, and the movies I watched with my best friend don’t matter. What matters is my dad, my husband, and my best friend. They are my memories. Maybe after 19 my brain realized that being sad with a lot is a thing for me (shout out Sadness again) so there’s no need to make it a special memory. What is important are the moments I felt love.
If you’re like younger me and only remember the bad, or if you only like older me and pretty much only remember the good; I feel bad for you.
Only remembering the sad always left me empty, but only remember the good leaves me longing for the past. (It also leads me down a path of letting people who hurt me back in to my light repeatedly because I remember the good times with them more than the bad)
Maybe you remember an equal amount of both good and bad memories, maybe (gasp) you’re a healthy normal balanced person. (Obv I’m not and one day soon they’re gonna drag me off to the lunnie bin) I envy you. Because if I didn’t have both types of memories, even if they are at separate times in my lifetime, I would always be in a cycle of non growth in life. I would be a hamster on a wheel.
You’re memories are important because they are moments your brain said “let’s keep this and maybe it’ll help one day; or maybe it’ll help someone else.” Sorry if you ended up with a hoarder of memories brain and sorry if you if ended up with a brain like my mom, who thinks nothing is sacred or sentimental and throws it all always. Yes mom I’m still bitter about that.