Monday, February 20, 2012

My memory

If you know me well, you know that I have a crazy long and detailed memory. Even my short-term memory has served me pretty well, I got through all of K-12 and college relying solely on my short-term memory. It wasn't really until a year and a half ago when I began my quest in the sciences that I actually started studying to learn and understand--it's interesting what can happen when you find a subject you like, right?

Anyways, back on topic. Having my memory was pretty fun as a child, I would be the only member of my family who remembered where we parked at shopping malls, and other inane details such as the license plate numbers of our cars (I still remember the license plate number for a car we haven't owned for 14 years) and the makes, models and details of random cars.  As I entered my teenage years, my memory helped me get closer to people faster as I would remember almost all of our conversations and their emotions related to them, so we could always pick up where we had left off at our last meeting.

However, as I approached my 20s, I found it difficult to forget some questionable memories of my childhood as they still remained fresh: the clothes worn, the words said and the expressions on our faces remained deeply etched within my mind. I actually found it to be quite irritating. How could I move forward, in a healthy way, towards adulthood when my heart was still smarting from these decade old incidents that felt so fresh in my mind?

And then my big accident happened, in the fall of 2006, that resulted in a nasty head injury. And I had a temporarily fuzzy memory that lasted a few years. While the memories eventually returned, I learned how to develop a different perspective about my childhood memories, and was able to embrace them.

Despite the fact that I have learned to evolve my perspective, I remain annoyed by my memory. I still remember the most ridiculous of details and happenings of my life. Some of my friends are quite amused by this ability and call me to discuss their wardrobe choices for events, as I have a visual memory of most of the clothing they own. However, some are taken aback by what I remember and give me a suspicious look when I recall a detail about their lives--to the extent that sometimes I have to act like I have forgotten, so as to avoid these funny looks I get from people.

Like many, I especially struggle to forget men from my relationship past, where things ended badly. But, mostly, I can't help but wonder: Do others simply choose to forget, because it is easier to move forward when the past isn't holding you down? Do they act like they've forgotten so those memories don't resurface again? Or do they actually not remember?

...I can't be the only one that remembers, right?

Le sigh.

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