Buried Memories
A discursive discussing the factors of one’s memory and how your experiences can alter it, composed by Ella (Year 12)
It is often thought that our life experiences shape who we are, like tiny strokes of paint on a blank canvas that collectively reveal the portrait of ourselves; but what happens when our memories of our past become distorted, and how do we distinguish between our perception and our reality? Often our memories are cherished so deeply that to be told that they may be factually inaccurate can be troubling to most, as our memories ultimately shape who we think we are. The truth is though, that our brains may unconsciously embellish and make sly adjustments to our memories in order to protect us from trauma and help us imagine a better version of our life.
Many psychologists, such as Dr Bruce Perry, support the theory that humans embellish and make sly cuts to our memories, and they propose that ultimately brains are hardwired for self preservation. Did you know that in times of trauma, the brain can opt not to store the memory? Cognitive behavioural studies suggest that our limbic system, the neurological system that controls our memory processing, edits out particular details in our memories without us even knowing, and to a more extreme degree, even creates fraudulent memories. Forgetting and distorting memories is quite simple really. Much like a photograph that gets left out in the sun for too long, where the faces slowly fade, edges curl and colours disappear, our memories too can fade and distort in a very similar way. Our memories in and of themselves may seem insignificant, however, when combined, they paint a portrait of ourselves. They make us who we are and ultimately shape our understanding of the world. Have you ever wondered why you have forgotten all those events that may have brought you so much pain? The truth is, we all have a darker, rawer portrait that to an outsider may appear damaged or undesirable; but who says that the truth is undesirable? Who decided that we should distort our memories to make us feel better about ourselves, when those very brush strokes reveal our true selves.
Only recently have I become aware of the defence mechanisms working in the background of my brain, protecting me from the harsh and unfair realities of my life. At just 7 years of age, losing a parent is unfathomable, an extremely incalculable event that to most would seem like something that would linger inside my brain and would be impossible to lose; however, when I look back at this deeply distressing period within my life, I am made aware of the sly cuts that my brain has made to my memories. The date 27.03.12 brings an unbearable rush of emotions to me: sadness, grief, an outstanding number of questions, but fundamentally, my brain has cut out the details of that day, only my body remembers that heartache. Though I may not consciously adjust my own life story, in the interests of self-preservation, my brain has adjusted the rough edges, the smears and the smudged paint.
Perhaps I was too quick to judge people who purposely cover up painful memories so that they aren’t revealed in our self portraits, and maybe, just maybe, our brains are simply protecting us from reliving the pain that lives only in the past. As a society, trauma is unfortunate and inevitable part of life, but it is also completely subjective. This is perhaps why for some, memories are far easier to recall than for others, as traumatic memories appear to be far more buried within our psyche. When a stranger asks for my story, I show them a portrait with a bright background, neat lines and a strong subject and for a moment I forget about the original one: slightly damaged, not so neat and weakened by time.
