Going back as far as I can remember is actually a challenge for me. You see, for whatever reason, I've blocked out a great deal of my childhood. I'm not sure if something traumatic happened to me or I hit my head at some point and my brain just won't remember, but for years now I've dealt with a whole chunk of my childhood being lost.
I'll listen to my siblings recount certain events and experiences, and I feel completely clueless. They look at me as if to say "how can you not remember that?!" I still don't have an answer.
So, to sit now and think as far back as I can to my earliest childhood memory is actually a challenge.
Now, I must be clear, I don't have amnesia. I remember a great deal about the past, however, in general, I only have a few significant and mainly traumatic or life-altering instances from my childhood which I can clearly recall to memory, not full experiences with stories and details.
For instance, I can remember clearly attending Spruce Hill Christian school and being in kindergarten with my teacher, Mrs. Clark. She was an overweight middle-aged white woman with gray and white hair and a plastic paddle she would use to spank us. I have an early memory of being in the dark, ugly pink and maroon painted girls restroom with the rest of my class, I assume. I remember it was crowded and noisy and it felt like people were everywhere trying to get into the three stalls that were available. I remember this one loud and obnoxious and chunky girl of foreign descent (I want to say her name was Jessica), crying in the bathroom and being scolded for causing a ruckus. I remember her because she apparently got on everyone's nerves and not just mine this one particular day when I really needed to use the bathroom.
I remember her trying to come into the stall I'd been waiting on and had finally had the opportunity to enter, with me! She definitely tried to come into the very SAME stall at the SAME time as me! I remember pushing Jessica (we'll call her) away from me before I could properly close the stall door, and shutting the door in her face so that I could relieve myself. I was in complete disbelief. Did she really just try to bust in the stall when I clearly was next in line for this one?! I remember being in the stall thinking that I would punch that girl in her face if she were to come in the stall with me or try that mess again. I distinctly remember being scolded, by Mrs. Clark, I assume, probably with a huge plastic paddle in her hand, although I see no faces in my memory. You know everything, including people, are gigantic when you are a young child. I remember having an attitude, and I know that that was uncharacteristic of me at the time. I was a very sweet and shy little girl. Those who know me now and not before high school will have a difficult time believing that about me, but it was certainly true.
I'm going to go with that instance as my earliest childhood memory for now.
I have slight, quick visions of other phases of my life as far back as being a toddler in the "blue house" at about a year old standing at the top of a staircase looking down at my mother at the bottom of the stairs. She, of course, has always told me that I was too young to remember that house. Maybe she's right. Maybe I'd just created that memory from a picture I've seen and let my imagination run wild with it. The thought has stayed with me for three decades though so... you be the judge.
I'll listen to my siblings recount certain events and experiences, and I feel completely clueless. They look at me as if to say "how can you not remember that?!" I still don't have an answer.
So, to sit now and think as far back as I can to my earliest childhood memory is actually a challenge.
Now, I must be clear, I don't have amnesia. I remember a great deal about the past, however, in general, I only have a few significant and mainly traumatic or life-altering instances from my childhood which I can clearly recall to memory, not full experiences with stories and details.
For instance, I can remember clearly attending Spruce Hill Christian school and being in kindergarten with my teacher, Mrs. Clark. She was an overweight middle-aged white woman with gray and white hair and a plastic paddle she would use to spank us. I have an early memory of being in the dark, ugly pink and maroon painted girls restroom with the rest of my class, I assume. I remember it was crowded and noisy and it felt like people were everywhere trying to get into the three stalls that were available. I remember this one loud and obnoxious and chunky girl of foreign descent (I want to say her name was Jessica), crying in the bathroom and being scolded for causing a ruckus. I remember her because she apparently got on everyone's nerves and not just mine this one particular day when I really needed to use the bathroom.
I remember her trying to come into the stall I'd been waiting on and had finally had the opportunity to enter, with me! She definitely tried to come into the very SAME stall at the SAME time as me! I remember pushing Jessica (we'll call her) away from me before I could properly close the stall door, and shutting the door in her face so that I could relieve myself. I was in complete disbelief. Did she really just try to bust in the stall when I clearly was next in line for this one?! I remember being in the stall thinking that I would punch that girl in her face if she were to come in the stall with me or try that mess again. I distinctly remember being scolded, by Mrs. Clark, I assume, probably with a huge plastic paddle in her hand, although I see no faces in my memory. You know everything, including people, are gigantic when you are a young child. I remember having an attitude, and I know that that was uncharacteristic of me at the time. I was a very sweet and shy little girl. Those who know me now and not before high school will have a difficult time believing that about me, but it was certainly true.
I'm going to go with that instance as my earliest childhood memory for now.
I have slight, quick visions of other phases of my life as far back as being a toddler in the "blue house" at about a year old standing at the top of a staircase looking down at my mother at the bottom of the stairs. She, of course, has always told me that I was too young to remember that house. Maybe she's right. Maybe I'd just created that memory from a picture I've seen and let my imagination run wild with it. The thought has stayed with me for three decades though so... you be the judge.
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