Sticky Brain

Years ago I saw the movie Being John Malkevich. I have this distinct memory of the premise having something to do with a doctor who could erase all of your memories. The problem with this, of course was that he erased ALL your memories.

I remember watching this movie, as an early twenty –something idealist thinking who would ever want something like that?

Well…now that I’m a young thirty-something idealist with just a little more experience I must say that doctor looks a little more tempting.

It’s not actually that I want all of my memories gone. I just seem to have this problem lately, I call it my sticky brain problem. Really the problem is that my brain is not sticky enough. The information I used to be able to retain for work, or, well life, now just rolls away. I feel like a beach honestly. If that same information crashes onto my shores enough times in close repetition there are occasions where it sticks.

I chalk a good portion of the problem up to mom brain but I also can’t escape the bigger problem: This filmstrip of memories that just keeps replaying itself through my mind. There’s no rhyme or reason, I’m driving along in the car and before I know it I’m suddenly in Arizona at this little wine bar we went to one night after my husband picked me up from the airport. A few hours later while trying to organize files I realize I’m on the beach in California playing in the waves with the dogs and my husband.

Most of the time there isn’t guilt, or grief….sometimes, but that’s not the problem. The problem is just that I can’t understand what is in control. These flights into history aren’t conscious efforts to work through the past. It’s like something has taken over my brain and wreaked havoc with an otherwise fully functioning system.

I find this is all especially inconvenient while trying to learn a new job. With so many systems, people, and plans to remember. I really don’t have time for this hijacking.

And so I can see the appeal. I would truly hate to lose all my memories of the past, and honestly you couldn’t pay me enough now that there are so many memories of my daughter in there. But to feel every day like I can’t find the future because the past won’t get itself out of the way, that! Is frustration.