Okay when I look back at my childhood I often see my childhood as if different children lived at different times. Like the three year old chelsea was not the same as the six year old chelsea. Like completely distinct lives. I can remember a memory I had, but it doesn't go into line with any other memories I've had as a child. Even at same ages.

I don't have a lot of memories of childhood. But sometimes things will remind me.

Like I can suddenly have a memory about putting colored marshmallows in my hot chocolate when I was little, when I see colored marshmallows on the shelf at walmart. Then a few days later I'll find an ornament I made as a child and after awhile of looking at it, finally remember that I made it. But the child who drank hot chocolate and the child who made the ornament were not the same child. Like they lived completely separate.

I don't know how to explain it. I just know it doesn't come from the same "memory box". I imagine toy chests filled with memories sitting in front of me. Each toy chest has a different set of memories in it. And those two memories came from two different toy chests. I'm not really sure how exactly I can tell the difference between "toy chest 1" and "toy chest 14", I usually can't. I just have a inward feeling when memories come from different chests. Like the difference in feeling silk and felt. You just know they're different.