memories

i went to dinner with a friend last friday.  we sat for hours and talked and talked about everything.  it was wonderful!  one of the things we talked about were her kids.  she has a child who is almost 4 and very smart. she was telling me how her daughter remembers things from  when she was 18 months old. i think that is pretty amazing.  then i thought about alex.  he recalls things from age 2-3.  he'll remember places we lived and things we did.

then i thought about me...

i have very few memories before the 4th grade.  i remember bits and pieces before this time, but i think it's mostly from stories that have been told over and over and photos i have seen.

i consider my memory to be pretty good.  i'll remember things from high school and college that others don't remember. i remember small details. i remember dates. i remember conversations.  why can't i remember the first 8 years of my life?

now i know, i told a friend on tuesday night that i was going to stop asking "why" so i didn't over analyze and dwell on things.  but i think part of my changes in my thinking will come from asking why and then answering with it really doesn't matter.  i know that things were rough growing up.  life was far than perfect.  i think it's important to look at where i am now and be thankful that i over came all the stuff i blocked out.

but what was so bad that my brain has blocked it out?  i remember other bad stuff that has happened.  i remember being raped in 1995.  i remember everything brett said to me when he was breaking up with me and i was trying to decide what to do about the baby.  i remember all the terrible things M accussed me of when we broke up with me.  what happened in my first 8 years of life that is worse than anything of that?

as i ask that, i really don't want to know. my brain has blocked it out for a reason. but when people talk about something they did in kindergarten or their second grade teacher i can't relate.  i don't remember.  i can tell you about this strict teacher i had in 4th grade that everyone hated, but i liked.  she liked me.  i was a "teacher's pet." 

sometimes the past is better left in the past.  it's not important to know what happened.  like i said above, i over came it.  i'm here and striving every day to be a person.  i went down the opposite path of my mom.  i've made different choices and although i'm going through a rough patch, it is no where near as bad as what she put us through.