Memory

We talked about my memory a little bit in session today.

I’m too exhausted to type it all out, and honestly, the topic itself is activating for me. I’m just not in a place where I want to deal with being activated right now.

However, something I was able to link when I was reflecting after session was that I remember books and movies in the same way I remember my life.

Bits and pieces, but not much of a line of narrative.

Obviously, this isn’t true of every single book or movie I have seen, but for the majority of them, that’s how it is.

I’m not really sure if the connection means anything at all or, if it does have some significance, what that would be.

But it’s the first time I linked those two things together, and something about making that connection erased some shame I didn’t realize I had been carrying.

I usually just thought I wasn’t as intelligent as people who could recall their life in exquisite detail, or talk about a movie or book from beginning to end with a direct line of narrative.

And I still am questioning if there is just something wrong with me.

But I don’t know.

The link feels like more than I had before.

After typing this, I realized it’s the first time I noticed how far I’ve come in being able to hold onto things.

My writing has helped me retain a lot more than I normally would be able to.

I also realized how confusing it is to be able to remember some things extremely well and other things not at all.

I’m sure that’s normal to some extent. I think everyone has things they remember more clearly than others. But it doesn’t feel normal for me because of how prevalent it is, and because it feels confusing that there are things I can remember with incredible detail while other things feel completely inaccessible.

I don’t really know how to explain it.