I am having issues with time. An inability to grasp a true sense of temporal pace. A sort of cognitive dissonance, if you will, when attempting to reconcilethe past with the future, and a problem making my emotional reactions match my perceptions.
I have had this discussion with a friend many times. In it we discuss the notion, stolen from a movie, that if you could take one moment with you, any moment, what would it be. In this conversation we quickly get bogged down by issues of context. How certain happy moments, even if they lead to unbelievable pain, would be your best choice, as you still get to live in that ridiculously inappropriate bliss. The heart knows what it desires, I suppose. And so the conversation revolves around whether it is possible to find and discern that moment, whether context will allow you to find a moment that stands outside of context for it's beauty and purity.
I have, until recently, been very good at remembering and valuing memories for their emotional impact as well as there place in time. As such I could generally recall, with clarity, even if I could not transport myself to this feeling, my best and worst moments, despite their irrelevance to my current state. I could remember loving my first love, even before the pain, remember that perfect ice-cream sundae for it's tastineness, as well as for the unfortunate trip to the emergency room later (damn allergies).
I think this ability, and the joy and self-awareness I get at understanding my own potential for great joy and sorrow, were the reasons the eternal sunshine of the spotless mind sent me bawling each time. The notion of losing memories, no matter their import, seemed like the cruelest rub of all. How do you know who you are if you don't know who you are when ecstatic and if you can't remember how you handle crushing disappointment?
But I find myself suddenly valuing the power of the mind to forget and reassess. And I find myself suddenly viewing many things in context, moments that I can not, for all my power, extract from the greater picture. It's very disassociating, Because though I can still see a whisper, see evidence that I once had very different emotional associations with all sorts of memories, they have no significance for me, no unique hold or romance, no point in recalling, even if I could. It's almost as if I released billions of memories to the ether without even blinking. And now all that exists is this fog and static, a scar without memory of the fall, and even a few distinct memories with no emotional recall to match.