I agree that this idea seems intuitively true. But what is interesting to me is that much of the findings of brain research conducted for a variety of reasons would indicate this is not so. Just as we tend to believe that our memories are irrefutable, yet science would indicate the opposite.


One of the most impactful findings in memory research has been that memories don't exist in a static form: memories are altered by each occurrence of remembering. I've heard it best described as similar to how a computer can "defragment a disk" by shuffling and reorganizing the bits and pieces of data. Each occurrence of remembering enacts this reshuffling process. Which "version" of a given memory is the "truth"? We don't know. The prevailing thought seems to be that all versions are a reflection of truth, yet each is different.

There is no evidence that I've seen that supports the notion of thoughts as genetically determined. That seems to be a throwback to the idea of the "bad seed." Nature v nurture is far from settled science, but the balance seems to be tipped toward nurture. There is support for the idea of personality characteristics having a genetic (or pre-birth biochemically based) preference, but that is not the same thing as specific patterns of thought. Thoughts are fundamentally perceptions, and as such, rely on multiple inputs.


And example would be near death experiences. There are lots of popular accounts ascribing spiritual significance to these perceptions which, much like alien abduction narratives, are stunningly similar in their descriptions. Yet brain research sees in the similarities, not proof of spiritual existence (or aliens), but rather the predictable consequences of biochemical processes. That doesn't mean that the divine and alien life don't exist; just that these experiences likely aren't the evidence.

It might be helpful to explore with a therapist not so much where your disturbing thoughts come from, but rather what fuels your intense feeling of needing to know.

I remember going around and around with my former T about the need to "remember it all." I consciously retained only a few memory fragments. And there was much evidence suggestive of abuse in my general family situation. But I didn't remember much of anything from my early childhood. And I felt intensely that if I couldn't remember those years, how could I know who I was? I think I used the example of a house built without a foundation to describe my feeling. Without a foundation, the rest of the house was somehow fake. My T, who was never in favor of memory "recovery," said that quantity doesn't increase validity. Quantity doesn't add to emotional relevance. And a lack of quantity doesn't in any way lessen the emotional validity of what is remembered. My challenge was in changing the intuitive sense that I wasn't whole without such memory intact.