I’ve been reading a lot of late. Many of the books speak of childhood memories, lifelong friendships and a support network rich and deep.
On reading, I start to reflect on my own story. My childhood memories, my friendships, my support network.
If I’m to be honest, I realise I’m not able to recall memories with the same emotion conveyed from the authors I’ve read. In truth, I cannot recall a single memory in which I’m truly happy. Memories are filled with only sadness and of always feeling alone. Memories filled with wanting to be loved and liked. Memories questioning why.
My earliest memory is of a day I went to kindergarten. I even recall what I was wearing. A tartan pinafore. I remember being so frightened and clinging so tightly to Mum. Why did I do that? Why was I so frightened? I didn’t want to let go, yet Mum seemed to want to let go. Of course my memory may be clouded, I dont know. I just know I didn’t want to be there and didn’t want to be away from Mum.
Another memory centres around a day in prep. I was 5 years-old. The ceilings of the classroom were very high and speakers that heralded important announcements, sat halfway up the high walls. Atop the speaker sat a vase of flowers, dried and wilted, The water murky and clouded. For reasons I don’t recall, and possibly as a result of vibrations from yet another announcement, the vase tipped and putrid water spilled over my head and down my body. Call it bad luck that I happened to be the one sitting in the one spot in which the contents of the vase would reach. Laughter filled the room and small, pudgy fingers pointed in my direction.
Years later as I watched the horror flick Carrie, in which she was the subject of intense laughter at being soaked in pig’s blood, I was reminded of that scene in the classroom many years earlier. For the other pupils in my prep year, seeing me covered in putrid water was the highlight of their day. I was reminded of that humiliating moment for a long time as taunts from cruel children followed me daily.
I don’t recall happy moments in school. Only traumatic ones. Being chased up a tree by 6th graders when I was in 4th grade. I hung tightly to a branch whilst my tormenters chanted, ‘no-one will ever like you ..’. I sometimes wonder where the teachers were. Why didnt anyone help?
This continued at other schools, as due to my Dad’s ever-changing employment, I moved schools 3 times in one year. At my final school I was so withdrawn and insular that I became a target for the bullies. I would try and hide from them, yet they would always find me. And the taunting would commence. “no-one likes you. no-one will ever like you”.
And the beat goes on.
I distinctly remember having to walk to softball on a Saturday morning. Walking across a large field near my house, wearing white shorts and t-shirt, I recall looking down at my feet as I placed one foot in front of the other. My tennis shoes were also white, with a half moon shaped piece of rubber above my toes. I don’t know why I remember that, it’s insignificant, yet could it matter? It was a long, 45 minute walk down to where I had to meet other team members. Why did I have to walk, where were Mum and Dad? I could not have been more than 10 years old. Walking alone. Why?
And then there’s those other memories that tend to flicker in and out of my consciousness. I liken it to watching a horror movie where the frames flick from one scene to another in very quick succession. You try to grab the vision but it moves quickly, barely giving you time to decipher it. Did you see that? Or was it something else? What really happened? I can see things, yet can I really?. Is that my mind hiding it from me. What happened that was so awful that my subconscious does not want my consciousness to see? It scares me.
So those happy childhood memories that I’m unable to recall. Where do they reside? Are they deeply entangled within insecurities and fears borne from bullying and intense sadness. Or is it simply my mind trying to trick me into believing my fears and insecurities are literally, all in my head?
Who knows.
stanley & bear 