Thursday, April 20, 2006

Childhood Memories

Childhood memories should be happy, right? So why is it that every time that I start trying to remember mine I get depressed and walk around all day on the edge of tears? Why do I have this incredibly sad, unhappy little boy trapped inside of me?

I went to sleep last night trying to remember some episode from my life that would be appropriate for this week's anamnesis prompt of illustration. I continued my walk down memory lane this morning and am wondering if I really want to continue. I was hoping for something humorous or entertaining. Instead I've reminded myself how much I hated my family life when I was growing up and how sad and lonesome and isolated I felt. At times I wonder if it was really that bad. Twenty-five years later I often tell myself it wasn't and that I blew things up out of proportion when I was a kid. On mornings like this I realize that I'm just whistling past the graveyard.

Maybe I'll share in the future. If I can do it without having a breakdown...


Cynthia E. Bagley said...

Sorry, many of my childhood memories are not good either. I think it is something my dad quoted from proverbs all the time.

22:6 Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.

and...Proverbs 13:24 (King James Version)
24He that spareth his rod hateth his son: but he that loveth him chasteneth him betimes.

or my dad said Spare the rod, spoil the child.

It did not make for a pleasant childhood.

Joseph's Left One said...

My childhood at home was pleasant enough, though infused with a sense of Mormon respectability and repression.

But I have lots of blanks in my memories of school life. I know it was miserable, but I've apparently blanked out a lot of my memory, probably as a self-defense. I suspect that, like you, if I tried really hard to remember, I'd have a breakdown.

In some ways we'll always be the hurt and frightened children we were. But we survive, don't we?

Maritzia said...

You'll almost never find references to my childhood in my blogs. Maybe because I seldom think about them anymore. My happiest memories in life are after I was grown and left home. About the only time I speak of my childhood is when talking to someone else who suffered growing up, and in the sharing we help each other heal. If you read about a happy incident from my childhood, you can just about guarantee that there is more to the story that I left out.

And I posted this just to aren't alone.