I used to think that. Then I realized I was dissociating all my memories away, and that my panic attacks were reality catching up to me. My life's fairly empty, but things definitely happen, I just don't remember them. It wasn't until I started living with someone else that I had someone to remind me of all the things I forget.
But I figure, my brain's doing it for a reason, right? Guess this is just how I deal with the stresses of life. It has its disadvantages, and I'm no stranger to hating myself for not remembering things, but any other way of getting through life would have its own downsides. Or so I tell myself.
Honestly no, but even if that were the case my life is so boring compared to stuff you read about in history, I find it far more interesting to remember others’ stories from the past than be self-centered and ruminate on minor things in my life.
I reckon that might also be very helpful to combat time blindness. Like, how can I notice weeks passing by if every day just blends together because I have neither memories nor events that set them apart?
Damn, that made my everyday life sound unnecessarily depressing. Sometimes I’m just a boring person, but I’m fine with that. It’s so calm and peaceful. Just not helping the above mentioned problem though.
Me liking photography as much as I do should make your idea a no-brainer, but here we are.
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