Back to the Future

I have been thinking on memory quite a lot lately. Some memories seem so real, vivid and understandable. Others I just can't believe were ever occurrences...like dreams that shoot off into another dimension when you try to remember them. The harder you try, the further and less plausible they seem. We were given memory as a gift from the ego to keep us alive. I remember not to stick my head in the oven when it's on and cooking me deliciousness. It would hurt and I remember. I think life experiences react within the mind much the same way. I've learned that dating a "recovering" addict means trouble, nay a slow and revolving death of trust and sanity. Recovery is a word people who need to feel empowered place meaning upon. It means nothing when shit falls apart and the drugs or alcohol, for some ungodly reason, become the foundation for forgetting once more. There are plenty of things I have learned and remember which I wish I haven't. I don't want to remember how awful we treat one another when it comes down to "you or I' in this mental survival cycle. I don't want to remember how opening your life and heart to someone can nearly level you to states of non functioning. I know this is essential for me to never stick my head in the oven again...but I believe now, I am afraid to cook anything period. I am afraid to prepare a lovely meal, watch it simmer and come alive and then devour it with devotion and determination. I won't even walk by the oven now...I head straight for the microwave or the nearest bag of pre-bought cupboard garbage. The thought of "cooking" fills me with such tension, fear and loathing...I may never eat again. I have so many memories from childhood and beyond that don't seem real to me. How was that my reaction in that situation? Was that really me responding to that? Creating that? It's almost as if some other person were making those key life decisions for me and I was just a witness to it all, unable to participate and now paying the price. There are other memories I have however, where it was all me. I remember them as though I am there now, dealing with whatever was going down at the time. Is it states of awareness that makes those happenings feel like they are a part of you? My awareness now sometimes feels separate. There are times when I have to convince myself that I am Rhandi Neal and that I exist. These odd out of body and brain moments come unexpectedly and randomly. I question why this now, why this moment? I know many are so wrapped in their own daily routine that this seems confusing. It's confusing to me as well as I cannot seem to grasp why these moments of seemingly pure lucidity and yet unbounded perplexity about my relation to the entire world occur. I do not know where these feelings come from or why they occur when they do...I do know that I enjoy them immensely. I feel apart of everything and separate from all. It's lonely and liberating, confusing yet more conscious than any other state of reality I have conjured for myself. I remember these from years ago. I didn't think much of them then, but now they seem so much more relevant and pressing. Is that the only way one can retrieve understanding-through memory? Why must it take so damn long for me to get it? Why must I be haunted by memories that no longer resemble who I am now? Being once a part of me is not conducive to who I am now...is it? It happened, it's over...what's next?