Our Brain. The best computer

Memories from the past, keep coming to my mind.

Sometimes, l don´t want them........ Don´t know what l´ll find.

My fear that not all memories are of the joyful kind,

Yet memories from the past keep flooding my mind.

Days long ago, when our children were young,

Summer and Winter, each brought their own fun,

I remember the park, both on swings in the sun,

And never walking home, we always would run.

Yet evil creeps into these beautiful re-calls,

Sinister shadows of times I did fall,

A mind full of monsters and that is not all,

The guilt in the shadows of hatred and gall.

The love of a family I´d waited for,

My own special unit, I needed nought more,

Together with love, to great heights we´d soar,

My beautiful family in those days of yore..

Memories, memories, still flooding my brain,

l have no control over pleasure or pain.

The past may creep in to stab me again,

I try hard to forget, forget all the pain.

Remember the wonder of the happy days?

l am grateful for thoughts of the beauty that stays,

And rests in my heart, and then gently sways,

To the beat of remembrance of wonderful days.

Time passes quickly and children grow up,

We don´t always drink from the same cup,

Many regret a family split up,

When joy could have reigned, if they´d not given up.

So into our minds all memories creep,

If not in the daylight, they come when we sleep,

They torture our beings and cause us to weep,

for things best forgotten, we don´t want to keep.

Whether beauty or beast, we never can tell,

Will memories bring happiness or will they bring Hell?

Our minds are a wonder of creation.... each cell,

But imperfections abound, We can´t always do well.

Sometimes the memories come flooding our minds,

make us so happy..... gems of all kinds.

But when memories of evil arrive in our minds,

HOLD TIGHT ! IT WILL PASS! And peace we will find.

.................................................................................................

Nobody sails through life unscathed . Yet there are enormous differences in our childhoods all over the world.

Memories of my own childhood often cloud my days, yet if someone asked me l know that l´d say l had a great childhood, l knew l was loved. My memories are happy ones.

So why, then have l been diagnosed with chronic, clinical depression lasting more than 30 years.?

My doctor has the answers and thankfully, today she is not of the ilk, that says ´´Pull yourself together, or Put on some whale music, relax you´ll be fine....

There are days when, if l was any more relaxed I´d be unconscious. Then of course the opposite can happen, when evil memories worm their way in and cover the good.

Many people suffer from strong bouts of anger, because of their childhood. It´s not easy to forget that you once had no control over what was happening to you.

If l am not in control, some days, l will have a serious panic attack, yet the very next day , I can be smiling with memories of when our children were young. Heck! WE were young. My husband and I and our lovely son and daughter.

In this poem l have tried to express----- not defeatism! No, but acceptance that there are times when the horror memories come into our minds. There are days, when however hard we try to think positive we seem to have no control over our thought.

l find this particularly true if l´ve had a nightmare. The rotten memories stay with me for most of the day.

We are not completely helpless though, now we are adults, we can learn to really know ourselves. If we know ourselves well enough to understand what will give us nightmares, we often can avoid them.

If certain types of films, t.v.programmes or even conversations are likely to cause me to re-live certain things l don´t even want to think about, then l avoid them completely.

If l don´t, then l have only myself to blame for a bad dream or a seriously depressing day.

Sadly we cannot always stop the evil memories flooding our minds. It happens,since our brains are so magnificent, better than any computer ever made.,it can remember things we think we have forgotten, but l tell myself as l did at the end of the poem.......

Hold Tight.! It Will Pass!!!.