A Mirror Turned Inward, Reflecting


…that thing that happens right before you sleep; every mistake you’ve ever made, every word you wish you’d never said, every moment that crushed you comes flooding back in excruciating detail…and all you can do about it is cringe and pretend it all never happened.

I hate my memory. It is full of useless details, facts, occurrences and happenings that even those who were involved don’t remember. I can name minute things associated with a one-time memory that held no intrinsic value to anything save that it is forever tattooed in the folds of my brain. People sometimes refer to me as some sort of idiot savant with the way I can recall things. I don’t like it. I’d love to be blissfully unaware of the memories that swirl in my subconscious. I wish I didn’t remember that one time when I was 17 and was somehow unable to stop my mouth from forming the words that never should have left the back of my brain. To this day, I can be back in the same place, at the same time, failing to stop the sentence from leaving my lips and seeing the hurt and anger register in my friend’s eyes.

I wish I didn’t remember the decision I made that resulted in making someone angry; nor do I want to remember the time I was responsible for hurting someone else. I can remember good things, but the bad ones are the ones that seem to pervade my waking thoughts. Drifting off to sleep is very difficult while reliving the time someone was so angry with me they threatened to break my arm if I didn’t listen. Or being back in the spot and time when I made the stupidest of all remarks and became the brunt of an ongoing joke because of it. Actually, the latter happens a lot more often than I care to admit.

It would be nice to be able to detach and turn off the thoughts in my head and meld into a state of peace and contentment, but the constant wrinkles, meanderings and expeditions my mind takes renders that impossible.

To be a drop of water in an ocean of the unaware; I could only wish.


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