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Originally Posted by bubsmiley
In the end, I've come to believe that what I had written was not true in a literal sense. It was what I was feeling at the time - alone, forlorn, barren, bereft - and this translated to losing something that most people find incredibly precious: a baby.
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This resonates with me and I have my own version of this with childhood memories. I think it is a "thing" that researchers have identified and I have also heard it said that, "just because it didn't happen doesn't mean it's not true". But memories can be symbolic rather than literal, emotional rather than factual, and I think you are just really insightful to have identified what's underneath your "memory." It speaks volumes about your experience with your husband and I am sorry that you had to live all those years feeling this way. You are courageous to be leaving and a have a little idea of how hard it must be. I am so glad you are reclaiming yourself and reclaiming these memories is a piece of that.
Quote:
Originally Posted by bubsmiley
My current T said that as I heal from the trauma of my 10 years in an abusive marriage, the memories may come back. I hope so. I want to be able to look back and be proud of how far I've come, and also to be able to learn from my mistakes. By forgetting everything painful, I tend to repeat the same errors again and again.
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This makes a lot of sense to me. I do believe that memories come back to people as they heal. Also, the recovery of one memory often leads to others, like a magician's scarf it seems. I also believe that *wanting* your memories to come back, welcoming them, can be instrumental in them returning. Create a place inside yourself where they will WANT to be.
I used to be scared of memories, threatened by them, angry at their return. And then I realized that they belonged to me, and they belonged with me, not split off from me, dissociated. I'd already lived through, and survived, the experience that created them. Getting the memory back was a blessing, as it was so much easier to relive the experience from the memory than from the experience itself. The memory can't ever hurt me, and it can help create more of me, a more whole me, a more truly complete me. Now I want all my memories, they are *mine.* I am working toward my memories being like a page in the book of my life-- they don't define me, they are far from all of me-- but I can look at them if I want, and I can look away from them as well. Just a page in the book of my life.
I wish you the best on what sounds like a very exciting journey.