Semi-recovered memory
I was just in the shower and had a memory come back to me. Well, sorta...
First I was trying to "talk" to Cara...figure out why she was so against my recovering any past memories. We had read something the night before about false memories and she was trying to use that as a reason not to try to remember anything at all. Then she sort of focused on Sara for some reason and I began to see some things...
might be triggering...
Everything went kind of dark and I saw a bunch of people walking in and out of rooms. I couldn't see their faces well but I think at least two of them were my grandfather and my mother. From the way things were set up, I think it was the upstairs of my grandparent's house. Nothing bad about it, just saw them walk in and out of the rooms. Then it went too black.
Corina said something to the effect of: In the past it is darkness like in the future it is too bright. That's why you can't remember the past well and you can't yet remember the future.
I decided to try and remember the upstairs of my grandparent's house as it was when I was little. I remembered which room belonged to whom. I remembered how the room that was ours when we lived there (from the time I was 2 till just before kindergarten) became a spare bedroom after a while. Then it became my grandmother's art room when my aunt moved in with them.
When it was the spare room my sister and I used to sleep in there sometimes. I can't remember why because I don't remember a situation where we would've spent the night. But, we did. I remember laying in the bed, upset about the down feathers poking my cheek. I was looking at the radiator at the head of the bed. It was a really old type, built into the wall with a decorative screen over it. I used to like to trace the patterns in the screen. I remember doing that and picking at a scab on my face, by my eye. Thinking about how the doctor was going to take out the stitches soon...but I accidentally pulled one out just then.
Then I recalled how I got that scab. It was the day before Christmas Break at school. I was all excited to go because it was that day when we were having our class party. One of the few times I enjoyed school. I was standing at the top of the stairs at our appartment waiting impatiently for my mom to get my sister and herself ready.
Just then I dropped my bookbag. Inside was a glass present for my teacher. I went to catch the bag before it fell down the stairs and I fell. I grabbed onto the banister but my hand slipped off because I was wearing my gloves. I went flying down the stairs, head first, and hit my eye on the door stopper at the bottom. The door, thankfully, was a little open because my mom had taken out the trash and didn't close it all the way.
I wound up having to get 13 stitches right under my eye, in the fold of skin. Now, keep in mind, I always remembered this instance. But, it's the way that I remember it which is remarkable to me right now.
I remember the doctors didn't want to knock me out for the stitches because of my age (I was in the 2nd grade) and they didn't want to give me a local because of how close to my actual eye the gash was. So, the strapped me down to the bed with a body board. The thing covered me from my shoulders to my ankles. I remember it took 6 people, doctors and nurses, to hold me down as well. And at least one person held my head still.
I remember the look on my mom's face as one of the doctors escorted her into the hallway. She later told me she had to go out to the parkinglot to get away from my screams. I remember screaming as they stitched me and calling for my mom. I remember every moment.
But...I don't remember it as if it was happening to me. It was like I could see and hear everything but I wasn't the one screaming and I wasn't the one who felt the pain. I remember how long it took to do 13 stitches.
That isn't the only time I remember dissociating as a kid. But, it is causing me to wonder about something. It was a pretty traumatic event. All my memories of dissociating are from after that. The only hard things I remember from before it have to do with kids picking on me. Also, there's the added coincidence that it was also around that same time when I started telling my mom I wanted to kill myself and started having depression issues. Plus, I was in the hospital a few months later for getting a juice can stuck on my tongue. Another event that I don't remember properly.
Could this be what caused me to split? I don't think so. I was too old according to science. But, I do think it's one of the things Sara cries about. Something she endured for me...for us. I want to know about the first part though. The part that was dark. I want to explore it. Not now...I don't have the time just now. But...soon.
First I was trying to "talk" to Cara...figure out why she was so against my recovering any past memories. We had read something the night before about false memories and she was trying to use that as a reason not to try to remember anything at all. Then she sort of focused on Sara for some reason and I began to see some things...
might be triggering...
Everything went kind of dark and I saw a bunch of people walking in and out of rooms. I couldn't see their faces well but I think at least two of them were my grandfather and my mother. From the way things were set up, I think it was the upstairs of my grandparent's house. Nothing bad about it, just saw them walk in and out of the rooms. Then it went too black.
Corina said something to the effect of: In the past it is darkness like in the future it is too bright. That's why you can't remember the past well and you can't yet remember the future.
I decided to try and remember the upstairs of my grandparent's house as it was when I was little. I remembered which room belonged to whom. I remembered how the room that was ours when we lived there (from the time I was 2 till just before kindergarten) became a spare bedroom after a while. Then it became my grandmother's art room when my aunt moved in with them.
When it was the spare room my sister and I used to sleep in there sometimes. I can't remember why because I don't remember a situation where we would've spent the night. But, we did. I remember laying in the bed, upset about the down feathers poking my cheek. I was looking at the radiator at the head of the bed. It was a really old type, built into the wall with a decorative screen over it. I used to like to trace the patterns in the screen. I remember doing that and picking at a scab on my face, by my eye. Thinking about how the doctor was going to take out the stitches soon...but I accidentally pulled one out just then.
Then I recalled how I got that scab. It was the day before Christmas Break at school. I was all excited to go because it was that day when we were having our class party. One of the few times I enjoyed school. I was standing at the top of the stairs at our appartment waiting impatiently for my mom to get my sister and herself ready.
Just then I dropped my bookbag. Inside was a glass present for my teacher. I went to catch the bag before it fell down the stairs and I fell. I grabbed onto the banister but my hand slipped off because I was wearing my gloves. I went flying down the stairs, head first, and hit my eye on the door stopper at the bottom. The door, thankfully, was a little open because my mom had taken out the trash and didn't close it all the way.
I wound up having to get 13 stitches right under my eye, in the fold of skin. Now, keep in mind, I always remembered this instance. But, it's the way that I remember it which is remarkable to me right now.
I remember the doctors didn't want to knock me out for the stitches because of my age (I was in the 2nd grade) and they didn't want to give me a local because of how close to my actual eye the gash was. So, the strapped me down to the bed with a body board. The thing covered me from my shoulders to my ankles. I remember it took 6 people, doctors and nurses, to hold me down as well. And at least one person held my head still.
I remember the look on my mom's face as one of the doctors escorted her into the hallway. She later told me she had to go out to the parkinglot to get away from my screams. I remember screaming as they stitched me and calling for my mom. I remember every moment.
But...I don't remember it as if it was happening to me. It was like I could see and hear everything but I wasn't the one screaming and I wasn't the one who felt the pain. I remember how long it took to do 13 stitches.
That isn't the only time I remember dissociating as a kid. But, it is causing me to wonder about something. It was a pretty traumatic event. All my memories of dissociating are from after that. The only hard things I remember from before it have to do with kids picking on me. Also, there's the added coincidence that it was also around that same time when I started telling my mom I wanted to kill myself and started having depression issues. Plus, I was in the hospital a few months later for getting a juice can stuck on my tongue. Another event that I don't remember properly.
Could this be what caused me to split? I don't think so. I was too old according to science. But, I do think it's one of the things Sara cries about. Something she endured for me...for us. I want to know about the first part though. The part that was dark. I want to explore it. Not now...I don't have the time just now. But...soon.