CesarioRose,

I think I hear what you're getting at. I find that when my ex-husband would talk fondly of his childhood memories that he could recall as early as Christmas of 3 years old! I was jealous and wondered why can't I remember that. I describe my memories like pictures that are filed away. Almost all of my memories/pictures from before the age of ten have this black stuff covering them so when I look at them I can't see what it is. Sometimes the little warehouse girl will wipe off the black so I can see but not usually. It's interesting for me to note when she wants to see the pics there is no black. Anyway, there are things I can do that trigger the memories to come back and the black to be gone so I can see what happened. One thing I did to trigger the memories was to visit an old house I lived in way up in the country. A lot of abuse happened there and all I can remember is that my window didn't have curtains. After I visited there I got a flood of memories back. I've since allowed the little girl to put black back over them as I wasn't ready to deal.

I do get jealous and angry when other people recall their childhood memories so easily but then I also think that there are things that happened that are so severe and sadistic, I don't even want to know about it.

Warning: about to giveaway the ending of the movie Shutter Island!

It's like at the end of the movie Shutter Island, the main character (the psych patient who killed his wife) says something that makes you realize if you're paying attention. If the radical treatment they tried didn't allow him to remember what he did and start functioning as who he was instead of splitting off into this other personality they were going to do a lobotomy because as his alter he was violent and out of control. So in the end he says something that made me realize that the treatment had been successful but he would rather live without that memory. Therefore, he pretended like the treatment hadn't worked and allowed the lobotomy to take place. Very intriguing and I totally relate!

Love and hugs,
Tara