I have mentioned in passing that I doubt even the validity of my own “memories,” for various reasons that are too significant to overlook. I’m not sure if I can concisely explain why, but here’s the best I can do. I have no answers…only questions.
The biggest reason I doubt is this: other than the psychological pain and physiological symptoms, which began early and persisted over the span of a matter of decades, the only “evidence” is the stories told by my inside people. There’s no other evidence. Not medical, historical, or familial. Granted, I have never asked my family, because my family is not a particularly safe or honest group of people. I don’t mean that to say that they would intentionally lie (though I’m not even sure about that either), but that their idea of what should be considered truth – and told as such – is a bit narrow. With that being said, the only suspectedperson associated with some of the deeper SRA memories has been dead for years. I can’t ask them anything. Not that I think they would have told me anything anyway. Other people who may have been involved are unknown.
Another reason I have doubted is the lack of specific evidence that I was in x location at x time, for such things to have happened to me. We did live very close to one of the supposed perpetrators for years, so there is the probability that they had access to me. We also went to visit regularly even when we didn’t live close by anymore. But ultimately there’s no proof that these things correlate. Neither I, nor you, nor any sane person would ever argue that just because something is possible, that it must logically mean it happened. Um, no. In this country, a person is assumed innocent until proven guilty. Not that I’m formally accusing anyone of anything, but in my mind it’s a big, huge, COLOSSAL assumption to make, even if only mentally and within the confines of confidential circles wherein I am receiving help. My timelines have never been verified, and there’s no one living who could confirm them, so there’s also that.
Another issue has to do with the memories themselves. Incomplete, fuzzy, faded, tainted by emotions and sheer passage of time. How can one possibly rely on them? My interpretation of myself and my past has changed constantly, especially with growth and maturity. How do I look back, with or without the filter, and discern what is really, factually true? How do I try to understand – in cases where things are untrue – why I would have filled in the gaps with false information? I think it’s possible that I did. Then again, going back to the previous argument, just because it’s possible, that doesn’t mean it happened. And ’round and ’round we go.
These things bothered me for a lot of years. They still bother me. Lack of proof is a hard thing for my logical reasoning to tolerate. But then I came across this article, and my mind changed a bit. If you don’t want to stop and read the whole article, it basically proposes the following 2 things (taken directly from the article) :
1) An event that you cannot remember can be psychologically equivalent to an event that never happened, and
2) An event that you falsely remember can be psychologically equivalent to an event that really did happen.
If you read the article, it will explain this more, and in more depth. It’s not a long read, but you do have to bear with the therapeutic angle. From this point of view, I was able to loosen up a bit more about not knowing the accuracy of the memories. I feel like, as is pointed out in the article, no matter what the source is, the pain itself is real, and comes from somewhere. Whether every story that floats to the surface is factually accurate or not, probably doesn’t matter. If resolving those stories heals the pain and releases my body and mind from bondage, then the memories are tools, whether they are perfectly remembered or not. Or even if they’re not true.
But why would my mind make things up? Particularly such specific, detailed things that just so happen to be so similar (in some cases identical) to so many other cases whom I’ve never met, never heard of, and never talked to? The answer is: I have no idea. I do know this: I would never question the diagnosis of D.I.D. There’s no doubt about it: I have it. So this makes the next question: Why do I have D.I.D., if not for extreme and prolonged trauma? The answer, again, is: I don’t know.
Sometimes I wonder about the possibility of past lives, or future lives, or the ideas that souls live more than one lifetime in different forms. The fact that SRA is such an atrocious, unspeakable act of evil against humanity makes me wonder if maybe I just have such a sensitive soul that I’m tapping into other souls’ memories. Because I wonder if something that tears so viciously at the fabric of what makes us human, perhaps, could produce pain so intense that one soul cannot possibly bear it alone. So maybe it is diffused over a larger group of people – maybe those with spirits that are especially sensitive to the suffering of other people? I really don’t mean this to sound as conceited as it probably sounds. I’ve just pondered all of these things so much and so deeply that my mind, coming up empty, has cast far and wide, sometimes, for possible answers. If anyone else has any opinions or theories, feel free to discuss. Cheers. ~J8