I have a similar flying one, except that instead of pushing myself off the ground, I just remember one day being able to walk on air. I was in upper grade elementary at the time, I'm pretty sure. Never could shake how real it felt.
That's the good false memory I have. I also have a bad one, which is a freaky reminder that our memories are fallible and fall prey to suggestion quite easily.
There's a town I know I've never lived in, with a divided main street with trees in the central thingy; big old elms. It's not any of the towns near where I grew up, but it has the feel of home, more than anywhere I've ever been.
I used to have flying dreams. I know they were dreams, but they were so realistic. I haven't had them in years, since I lived in my parents' house.
In some of them, I could only fly within the confines of my back yard. If I went beyond the vertical extrapolation of the fences, I'd fall. I know they were most likely tied to my bond with my parents and my need for independence.
In the others I flew simply by flapping my arms forcefully enough, and went ridiculously high, usually to be alone or escape.
There's a few years where my depression got so bad, that I don't actually remember that much from that period of my life. I've apparently voiced false memories to people who have known me since then. There are other things I falsely remember, but they are snips and glimpses.
I unfortunately don't have any memories of incredibly vivid dreams. There was a nightmare that I could have sworn was more than my imagination and I'm fairly confident was a recurring nightmare for a short period. At the time it freaked me out a bit, but now I'm just curious as to what set my mind in such a fashion.
Comments 6
That's the good false memory I have. I also have a bad one, which is a freaky reminder that our memories are fallible and fall prey to suggestion quite easily.
Reply
Your life is not merely ordinary; it's got me and Zib and others in it, and that makes it far too strange to be classed as merely ordinary. ;)
Reply
Bittersweet, y'know?
Reply
In some of them, I could only fly within the confines of my back yard. If I went beyond the vertical extrapolation of the fences, I'd fall. I know they were most likely tied to my bond with my parents and my need for independence.
In the others I flew simply by flapping my arms forcefully enough, and went ridiculously high, usually to be alone or escape.
There's a few years where my depression got so bad, that I don't actually remember that much from that period of my life. I've apparently voiced false memories to people who have known me since then. There are other things I falsely remember, but they are snips and glimpses.
very thought-provoking.
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment