First a note. In the spirit of Blaugust I’ll only be doing diary entries to fill daily content. The things I write just really can’t be published in a day and I really hate that I can’t read and comment on my favorite blogs because all of my spare time is spent on publishing each day. So if I set aside 10 little minutes to a daily summary then I won’t have to quit Blaugust :) And I can still dedicate my time to the research needed for my usual articles. Sound like a bargain? Good. Now onto the topic!
My son hurt himself the other day. Pretty badly. He fell off of his bike and got a bloody head and a knot. The thing is, he favors me so all I saw was my childhood self in him. And I apparently blacked out memory wise. The only memory I have of the incident is holding him after the fact while my wife drove us to the emergency room. It felt like holding myself when I was a kid.
My son is fine. Kids fall off of their bikes, it’s not unusual. His head injury was minor for all the blood on my shirt, didn’t even merit a stitch. But the event triggered some memories in me I thought were long gone, things I thought I’d dealt with. Memory loss during traumatic events isn’t uncommon and now I’m thinking I should get some counseling for those memories. There are bad things from my childhood that I don’t remember.
The particular memory the accident triggered was something I had forgotten as a kid too. My head was bleeding. This happened the same year I ran away I think. I didn’t even remember it until now. And now I’m wondering how much other stuff I don’t remember. It’s not a good feeling because you can’t resolve things you don’t remember. You can’t deal with things that you don’t know happened to you.
The doctors checked Jacob out and all the usual to make sure he was alright, then sent us home. It was just a really blood scrape. Kids fall off of their bikes all the time. For the rest of the day he played with his sisters. He watched a movie. He was fine. I was the one who wasn’t fine.
I’ll be looking into some kind of therapy that helps with these kinds of memory things. There are apparently still things that stick with us even in adulthood and I can’t black out every time one of my kids has a bloody scrape. I can’t even believe I’m typing this, but …here I am. It’s kind of hard to admit to having a problem, isn’t it? Especially when you didn’t know you had it. Anyway, this should be an interesting new adventure I suppose. I wonder what kinds of things I’ll learn about myself during therapy. Maybe I’ll amuse you with stories about it.