All I Have Are Core Memories
+ Answering questions about chronic illness & writing
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Doing EMDR has introduced the reality that I have categorized my life by all my core memories. This chronological heaviness has made me unpracticed in the art of nostalgia. Allowing myself to dig into this kind of trauma work, welcoming in a dismantling of the way my core memories sit in my body, has required a kind of joy that I have not allowed myself access to and certainly didn’t even notice as a kid.
When I think of what sits beside my core memories, I can’t help but think of Hannah Montana. I never understood the role television played in my survival. I had a television in my bedroom as early as eight years old. I’d stay up late watching The Angry Beavers, Hey Arnold, and SpongeBob SquarePants, or MTV and VH1 music videos until 2 or 3 in the morning. This was my time for me.
As a teenager, when my core memories were making their way into my anatomy in the form of chronic illness and pain, I’d turn to Hannah Montana. I would dream of having a walk-in closet, a secret life, and would sing The Best of Both Worlds like my bedroom was my stage. I turned to TV in a way I think a lot of others turned to books. Television was my way of imagining myself into a world different than the one I was living.
I always get made fun of for being such a Gilmore Girls stan, and there is no denying the toxicity that exists in almost every show from the 90s, but in it, I can pretend myself into a daughter with a mother who she is close to. It is in the small town of Stars Hollow I can envision a slow life of knitting competitions (without Christopher ruining it, of course), running a small inn, eating at a diner every day, or walking to the market to get marshmallows and Twizzlers for a night of watching Willy Wonka.
Even now, as I do EMDR and uncover things about my body, my gender, and my queerness, I am thankful for shows like Sex Education, A League of Their Own, and Heartstopper. In these shows, I heal. In these shows, I feel seen and can escape into a world in which I stumble alongside Maeve, Carson, or even Nick.
As I lean more into my childhood nostalgia alongside the trauma, I feel ease arise. I am not one to say that staying in the past is a good practice, but I am saying that when you are diving into the way your body has kept the score, it’s okay to tally up the things that kept you alive.
When taking the tallies, I notice the Britney Spears music videos echoing in the memory of my family's garage-turned-apartment on Rosehill Road. I am dancing alongside Selena to Bidi Bidi Bom Bom while I lay on a mattress in a homeless shelter in Houston. I am waiting for my dad to fall into a deep sleep on the couch so I can finally turn on the TV in my room and whisper-sing If We Were a Movie along with Miley. Even now, when Netflix gives me the option to skip, I don’t. I sing, “Where you lead, I will follow…”
This YouTube video gave me some hope surrounding the eco-grief I’ve been feeling.
This podcast episode is everything.
You should pre-order the book, A Dead Name That Learned How to Live
I read Jeanette McCurdy’s book in 2 days and have been unable to stop thinking about it. HEAVY content warning for eating disorder content.
Here’s my Notion template for anyone interested.
Curiosity Corner is here! I recorded the episode and deleted it accidentally, but I luckily have the transcript! So you will just get to read my answers this week, and the podcast will return next month.
Y’all sent in some gorgeous questions, and today we’re chatting about chronic illness, writing, and firing off some shorter questions as well. You will find the transcript of this month’s Q&A here and the submission form for next month’s questions here.
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Love,
So beautifully written and so relatable 💗 Thank you for sharing!