It’s always disturbing how something miniscule can resurrect something thought to be long dead. Amazing how a song, a phrase, or a smell can dredge up memories best left forgotten. And with the most minute amount of stimulus you end up drowning in a flood of feelings and remembrances we never wanted to relive, and we end up writhing in internal misery.
I, like most others, do not actively remember these things. Nor do I try to force myself to forget them. I let it slip into the murky depths of time’s passing on its own accord. Unfortunately for some of these long swamped memories the impetuses for revival come in ample and unwanted supply.
How long do I have to relive these memories? These dredges of past that I’d rather forget flood through me with virulent force at unforeseen times. And I’m left dying inside. Torturous tethers to the past bound to me by jagged hooks through my heart and mind. All my failings and falters swirling violently through me with the urge of one moment’s urge of senses. Relationships, friendships, and moments all gone wrong because I was not smart enough or wise enough to set them right at the time being. Each time making me remember my wrongs in painfully horrible detail. Each time recalling how much I despise myself, how much I’d rather not exist, or how much I’d rather forget who I am. I understand that everyone else has the same troubles. But I am not everyone else and they are not me.
How long do I endure? How long do I relive vivid painful memories of my faltered history?
