I’m tired. I’m *really* tired. And overwhelmed. I think we’re all tired. I know why I’m tired. We’re over a year into a global pandemic and I have a toddler and brain full of anxiety and ADHD, so I get *why* (my toddler is a joy, my brain I’m 50/50 about tbh). But I’m also tired of remembering things. Remembering to make dinner, to pick up more nappies, to send cards for birthdays and birth days. Remembering where I put that mask I like, or those clothes she’s not grown into yet, or the suncream. And, of course, remembering things that perhaps I’d rather forget.
For the last three years, every April through to late May, my social meejia has been throwing up “memories of this day”. Many of them are from 2018 – somewhat inevitably, as by the end I was posting and sharing constantly. Sometimes I can tell from the list of names in the preview what the memory is, and whether I want to see it or not at. Not often enough though. Sometimes I remember from the date (a good friend’s birthday was the Claire Byrne debacle). Sometimes I am plesantly surprised by a happy memory from *other* years (in May 2012, for example, I bought a wedding dress. And in April 2013, Thatcher died). Mostly though, I get blindsided by things I’d rather forget. Because although I am deeply, profoundly glad that we have repealed the 8th Amendment, I’m still really fucking angry that we had to do it at all. And remembering all the things that happened is just so much for my already tired mind.Continue reading “Remembering to forget”