Memory

I discovered I have memory hoarding ODC. I wasn't diagnosed but it makes an incredible amount of sense. I read the description to my husband. He laughed and agreed before I was even finished reading. I know it is a self defense mechanism I developed in childhood. But I didn't realize it was a form of OCD or that the Lexapro I am taking to keep my blood pressure down was helping me with the OCD as well. My form of OCD doesn't manifest in a need to check physical things multiple times. I do prefer to personally check to make sure the doors are locked before bed but I don't check them multiple times. I'm not sure if that is regular OCD or just the fact that I have been the first to get out of bed and found the door unlocked numerous times when my husband said it was locked the night before. However, I do sleep better if I have a visual of the door locked in my head. I find focusing on that visual comforting and it helps me relax. I suspect that may be part of the memory hoarding version of OCD. I feel the same comfort from remember details of a scene I have stored in my memory. I guess I have a fear of forgetting. It feels like those memories are me and forgetting them will mean I will disappear.

My childhood was chaos. There was a pivotal point, when I was 15, when every structure of security in my childhood fell apart. At that point it was obvious to everyone that our family was in chaos. But even before that I found comfort from the milder version of chaos by hiding in dark, cool closets. While I was in there my imagination kept me company. I think that is connected to finding creativity comforting now. Occasionally I'd get a cat to go in there with me to snuggle or I'd take a doll or stuffed animal. To this day, remembering being in there is comforting. The closet and the things inside felt like a protective shell. I was a tiny child who could hide easily. I remember my mom looking for me and not seeing me when she opened the door to my hiding place. I felt bad that I didn't come forward when she discovered my spot because she wasn't the reason I was hiding. But I didn't want her to know where to find me when I needed a break. I needed a place to get away and feel secure. She wasn't the chaos then but the chaos was always around her. The visual that pops into my mind is my mom standing stationary at the center of a tornado while it swirls around her and dishevels her clothes and hair. Later she blended into the chaos and feeling bad about not stepping forward out of my hiding place went away. In my mind, I watch her wave goodbye as she purposely reaches out to the spinning chaos and is whisked away into the blur.

Memories are tricky. Few people can accurately remember exactly what happened to them. Even those with a perfect memory cannot remember all views and see all the nuances of a situation. I have a good memory but not a perfect one. Since I started taking Lexapro my memory isn't as good. But that's a good thing. It means I'm not spending as much energy replaying memories over and over to keep them fresh. I find myself focusing only on remembering good memories. I used to spend a lot of time remembering the bad stuff. I didn't want to but I felt I had to. In my late teens my life became full of he said/she said nonsense. I kept finding myself in charge of adult things that I shouldn't have been. To deal with it I leaned on evaluation. I tried to make sense of the nonsense. I felt the need to fix things. I needed my solutions to be heard. I lashed out at the adults in my life. It wasn't the childish things a normal teen would have lashed. Mine were criticisms of the treatment of my siblings by the adults and about substance abuse by the adults. I was scolding the adults in my life for acting like children. When I was misquoted it infuriated me. Infuriated doesn't seem strong enough of a word. I was insanely angry when I was misquoted. I was already spending time on adult problems when I should have been having teenage fun. Then I also felt I had to explain myself to others who weren't involved. Adults are given privileged status in an argument with a child. I was bearing the burden of an adult without the increase status of authority.

My response was memory hoarding. I think I had already started developing it as a way of maintaining some sense of self while being raised by a narcissist. When someone is constantly trying to bend you to their will, it is difficult to know what is you and what is manipulation. As a young child, I remember playing out what just happened in my head after a session of find the guilty party. I would evaluate the techniques used against us children to try to get one of us to come forward to claim responsibility for something that none of knew anything about. I remember, as a small child, thinking this isn't right. I remember thinking I was being punished for simply existing in his world. I remember thinking I need to remember who I am and exactly what I did so that I didn't get lost. When I started being misquoted in my late teens I locked down hard on that need. I put a lot of energy in remembering exactly what I said and what was said to me. I rehearsed arguments before hand to find the argument best represented what I wanted to say. I needed to be clear and honest about how I felt. It became incredibly important to me to find the reality behind the lies. I started writing letters instead of speaking directly to someone. Not because I lacked confidence in my argument but because I could keep a copy of the letter to show anyone who had heard me be misquoted. Memory hoarding became a way of preserving myself. I didn't want to disappear into the blur of the chaos.

I am happy I am not spending so much time preserving memories. I hadn't planned on staying on Lexapro forever. It was supposed to be just to keep my blood pressure down while I get some boundaries set, get my divorce done, and get financially on my own. Now I am a little fearful that when I go off it I will struggle with memory hoarding more. Hopefully, knowing what it is and why I use it will help me stop leaning on it.

When my kids got driver's licenses and started coming home after I was in bed I had to let go of my need to see the door locked before I could sleep. It wasn't easy but I got to where I didn't have to check the door every night. Sometimes I would wake up in the middle of the night and need to check to make sure my children were safely home and the door was locked before I could go back to sleep but I think that is a fairly normal mom activity. I am hopeful that means I will be able to let go of the memory hoarding too.