One of the ways I got out of depression was by trying to forget everything. Depression is a symptom of being anchored to your past, and I wanted to throw it all away.
So I did. There was a period in my life in my early twenties when I erased everything. Pictures, digital or physical, notes, letters, emails, everything. Everything that was associated with even a tinge of pain. Letters and emails from and to people who didn’t return my calls anymore. Pictures of exes and ex-friends who I felt sure, didn’t remember me anymore so why should I remember them. Memories of awkward conversations, embarrassing moments.
I purged things from my hard drives and actively blocked my memories, when I felt myself reminiscing. I blocked the day’s events from my mind, and laying in bed, only thought about the future.
I thought that in order to avoid the pain, I needed to become harder, more inured to things. So I pretended I didn’t remember people, the places, and the conversations I was generating on a daily basis.
“Oh, we met before?” I would say.
It was therapeutic, at the time.
But by thinking only of the future it replaced depression with anxiety. And also, in so doing, I effectively made it so I didn’t exist during those years. I have no way of knowing who I was back then. Because these days, I really wonder. I’ve lost a part of my life.
It’s a tradeoff, maybe I went too far.