something about memory

This year has already brought a lot of clarity. As always, these thoughts will be dealing with both the good and bad sides of such realizations. This one in particular has to do with memory. 

 For as long as I can remember (no irony intended), it has been something very notable in my life, my ability to recall minute details and exact conversations from years (now decades) ago. I always felt that it was a strength of mine, but I realize now that in hindsight some of those memories were more-so burned in by obsessive compulsive means or traumatic experiences. I guess when those bad memories are entangled in the good, it's hard to distinguish between the two until you actually get help in breaking it down. 

There were times when my ability to remember felt like a burden and helped to alienate me, if only because it wasn't always shared with people I was reminiscing with. They may have thought it odd or stalkerish in some situations, when it really was just something that I could recall. I know, too, that when manic depressive episodes struck, in my elation (or depression) that said memories could be tarnished and were not always reliable. Positive encounters likely had greater compliments and encouragements built in, or dismal encounters could have been dramatically enhanced. Working through this now, I can highlight where those deviances occurred and have ironed out the reality in the pressing ones. It was troubling to suddenly have something that I could trust in about myself suddenly be in doubt. It would also present problems in disagreements with loved ones, when I couldn't see the fault in what was said, and I've done my best to make apologies where relevant and I accept that I was wrong in many cases. 

For a long time, another piece of this that I feel is relevant involves non-sequiturs that I would make to family and friends, usually linked to these references and details long forgotten to others. In my early twenties, hearing, "I have no idea what you are talking about," was amusing and gave me a sense of being quirky or some shit. But as time goes on, I realize it's a constant presence and not something I actively aim for. So much communication is, obviously, you know, just trying to be understood. Even and especially when I'm not doing a bit, it's hard for me that others don't think I'm being earnest, when I am.

There were also times when I was so excited and eager to get an idea going that I completely steamrolled people close to me. In the short term, that resulted in me completely ignoring any criticisms or objections they may have had, for example, in creative ideas or in making plans to go out somewhere. Once that was out of sight, the events in the wake of the miscommunication would eventually congeal into what I accepted as truth. It was hard to begin alleviating the distress of loved ones and to also ensure that it would not happen now and in my future. I'm optimistic on that front, at least. 

There's also a component of it that's a bit harder to explain if you do not have a similar experience. At times, loved ones and I would share hilarious or emotional experiences together, and there would be some inside joke, or visual, or musical piece tied to the memory. Years later, when this memory would strike me, I would sometimes reach out to the person and drop this reference. I failed to consider current emotional states and would expect this person to immediatley understand what I was getting at. For instance, a friend once told me about a funny story they had about getting really into a song from a video game we both liked about an aloof and arrogant man wandering through life. They never realized the meaning of the lyrics until they really dug into them. I thought it was hilarious. Years later, I sent the song to them out of the blue, having thought about this story. They presumably didn't consider the reference and thought that the song was in poor taste to just drop in on someone due to interpersonal issues we were then going through. I never considered the possibility, but now understand the reason for not finding it amusing. 

There's more to this that I will continue working through, but I think that gives a decent inkling on what I'm currently thinking about. At some point, I will explore (in writing) this confusion regarding memories as it relates to actual people, instead of just conversational references. A visual that I cannot shake involves me hysterically sobbing when friends were moving away or going to different schools growing up, and then finally reuniting years later only to be regarded as a complete stranger, of them not sharing the same distress I had when we had initially separated.  

A big component of this was getting so wrapped up in emotional memories that I failed to live in the present, and in doing so, hindered my future. I'm hopeful to continue removing that negative possibility.