Nostalgia

It sounds like a small country in eastern Europe. But it's not.

I have an obscenely powerful long-term memory. So obscenely powerful that I'm pretty sure it steals a lot of the function away from my short-term memory. Which is horrifically poor. If you've ever asked me to do something ever, you probably know this about me.

My mom asked me once what my earliest memory was. I said that I remembered being in the yard, holding a dandelion with a bumblebee on it, letting the bumblebee crawl onto my finger, then having it sting me and watching her run out of a white house towards me while I screamed.

She looked at me with mild-to-moderate disbelief and says "Do you know how old you were when that happened?" Nope. I said. Maybe four.

Eighteen months. I was eighteen months old. And that white house was the first house I ever lived in. They moved out before I turned two.

So basically I'm creepy. Because I will remember things about people that they wont even remember about themselves and then they're like "Uh, how do YOU remember that?" and I'm like "Uhh, I dont really have a good answer for you." And I remember nearly everything about myself that most people are gifted reprieve from in their own forgetfulness. I find that I can very easily relive a moment in a very real and often unnerving way.

I've been living in my memories lately. Which is sometimes a beautiful, cleansing thing but oftentimes a serious defeat of the present.

The new goal is to keep the balance towards beautiful and cleansing. With rare moments of defeatism.

I'm coining that. I'm pretty much the next Dr Phil.

So not a real doctor. And pretty much irrelevant. Woot to that.