We were talking about PTSD in group last week, and I shared a disturbing realization of mine with them.

B was over, and we were talking about the "good ol' days", and he mentioned when he used to live with C and I. We've talked about it before, and this time I just had to confess the truth: I don't remember it. At all.

It was only five years ago (almost exactly), but for some reason, I just have no recall of it. I wouldn't know that he would come home from work and I'd make tea and we'd sit and talk if he hadn't told me. It's just... gone. And that bothers me.

I mean, I know that I have large chunks of my childhood and teen years missing, but something so recent? It's disturbing to know that my mind could just block something out like that, and not something emotional, either. I know for a fact that when I have high emotions going on (like the trial, for instance), chances are good that I won't remember what happened. I have a few memories from that couple of weeks, but I can pretty much count them on one hand. It skips around a lot. Most of the memories are from outside of the courtroom, and they pretty much all have to do with food :)

This, of course, is due to the fact that my brain learned to disassociate during the abuse, and so it still does that in my "real" life.

Scary stuff, yo.

It's like... not knowing whether I'll remember this later... makes me feel like I have dementia or Alzheimer's or something. Think about it. Life is all about memory. How do you know who people are? How do you know what you've done, what you want to do? How do you know what you like, what you don't like, who you love, how you felt about ______? Memory.

To lose it is a scary thing. It makes you feel a little like you've never lived at all.

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