Thursday 20 October 2011

I wish I could make my brain stop remembering the dates of bad things. I mean, I struggle to remember birthdays. If the notifications on my phone don't ping to remind me of a birthday or an anniversary then generally I'll forget. Yet my brain seems to remember the exact date, and often the time as well, of every bad thing that ever happened to me. I drive myself mad with it.

And now I have a new torture. Yesterday it was three years since my Mum had the seizures that led to her being diagnosed with a secondary tumour in her brain. I didn't realise until today. I knew it happened on the 19th but I somehow wasn't aware of what date it was yesterday. So now on top of hating my brain for remember the date of the scariest, most distressing night of my entire life, I now feel guilty because I went through yesterday without thinking of it.

But it's weird because I have days, like yesterday, where I feel the weight of something pressing down on me. I feel insecure and vulnerable and I don't know why. I guess my body knew what yesterday was even though my brain was slower to realise.

I just want to not remember these dates anymore. I want to not remember every detail of what happened. Will it ever just disappear to the dim, dark recesses of my mind? Until it does, this time of year is just always going to be a tortuous reminder.