Facebook Memories

Self Timer Photo of me Exploring Malahide, Ireland alone.

One of my favorite things about Facebook is that it brings back memories. It shows you old posts from years ago and I think that is so fun – especially because I have a horrible memory.

But lately looking back at Facebook memories has been really hard.

I keep seeing photos of me smiling and doing fun things but when I look at myself, standing in the photo, I know exactly what was going on under that.

This time 2 years ago I was struggling. Still. I was making really bad relationship decisions & navigating in a space where I felt I didn’t belong.

This time 8 years ago I was struggling. Adjusting. I had just started high school in a brand new state, didn’t know anyone & had anemia. The combination triggered a period of depression.

This time 4 years ago I was struggling. A lot. I had just been raped and hadn’t started therapy and was numb to everything, which started a spiral of bad choices, depression & the beginning of the biggest change and struggle of my life.

I have a bunch of happy photos popping up but they weren’t really happy.

And it’s not like it just this week that’s I’ve seen these posts.
For the past 2 months, I’ve been fighting memories popping up on my timeline.

I keep clicking “see more memories” to try and be reminded of something else, but I have to scroll down to before high school to get away from it all.

I don’t really know what it is about these photos… It’s not like they trigger any flashbacks… I think it gets to be because I remember the way I acted and I know how disconnected I was from myself. I see those photos and I’m embarrassed. I’m ashamed. & I don’t know why.

It’s a weird thing to process.
I guess this time of the year generally is a transition period.

To combat these memories, I’ve been posting new ones. I’ve been uploading a lot of my travel photos to Facebook so that next year when Facebook sends me reminders, I can be reminded of what it feels like to explore, grow & be free.

“When we think of the past it’s the beautiful things we pick out. We want to believe it was all like that.” 
― Margaret Atwood, The Handmaid’s Tale