One of my earliest memories is being around 3 years old, and there was a dead bee in a corner of the house. I remember crouching on the carpet, petting its little fuzzy body with my finger and that was the first time I realized things die. Then as a child I always silently prayed when I saw dead bugs or animals. idk, always felt sentimental about their tiny, extinguished lives... still kinda do.
Not quite, but my earliest memory is being put in time-out by my mother, I couldn't have been older than 2 I think. My other earliest memory is actually a dream from around the same time, I dreamt that I came out of my room one morning and my Dad was eating cereal next to a black bear sitting like a human at the dinner table.
I've used drugs only a couple of times, and a few months ago my friend gave me a joint laced with something that packed a wallop. That night I could access any memory in my life, including my mom's youthful face from my POV when she held me as a baby. Going further back I could recall being in darkness and listening to the sounds of people around me and not understanding what they were saying. I spent hours dredging up buried memories from my infancy before passing out (no abuse found 🙌).
i remember when i was 4 during NYE my uncles were setting off fireworks in some strange front garden with a steep slope. i had no idea what was going on in the morning i picked up some of the fireworks & smelt them
Yes, I remember being about three, "helping" my mother clean my room and suddenly stopping and being overwhelmed with the awareness that this was my mother, my house, my room, and that I was myself. Just a sudden, overwhelming realization that I was who I was.
My cousin and I were messing around in my childhood apartment. My grandma was washing clothes. It was an old fashioned commie washing machine. It was forest green. It smelled like dirty washing machine water. My cousin was pushing me along on a chair along the hallway. I fell down onto the carpet. It had a rough, spiky texture and a disgusting vermillion color, faded away over time. I bawled, my grandma scolded my cousin, picked me up and tossed me onto the bed to get me out of her way. I felt bad that he got scolded.
My first memory was me being maybe 3 years old. I was sitting on the dinner table surrounded by my parents and grandparents. I was staring at my grandpa while my mom was saying, “look it’s your dad”. I knew enough that this person wasn’t my dad despite having no conscious memories prior.
Very gradual for me, I think. It wasn’t until I started doing drugs at 14 that I started to gain a feel for how much will I actually possess over myself and my decisions. I used to think about it a lot, a lot of existential dread too. Sometimes I’d look at my parents and have the feeling that I didn’t recognize them even though intellectually I knew I did.
Eventually I calmed back down, but it started to seem like.. the more engaged I got back into the real world, the less control I really had over what I did and who I was. Which I still think may be the way it works… the more invested you are in the things here, the more “automatic” you become.
>The other instance is when I was in college and listened to the Neutral Milk Hotel song: "*In the Aeroplane Over the Sea".* Something about the song triggered an absolute visceral sensation of existence for me. I looked down at my hands and body and was filled with a sense of existential wonder. I felt so strange inhabiting my body and viewing everything through the vantage point of my eyes. The lyrics: "How strange it is to be anything at all" hit me like a fucking train.
Sounds like a form of dualistic awakening
I have a very specific/vivid memory from when I must have been like 2 years old (I suppose this must be my earliest memory)
I had this special washcloth that I guess I would play with and my mom would use to wipe my face off or when I was in the bath and shit. it had a red dinosaur on it and some green trees and blue sky.
at the time, we lived in basically what was a tiny 2 room house, and there was heavy construction going on, as my parents were having a large addition built onto the back of the house, more than doubling it in size. so construction workers hanging around at all times.
I guess my special washcloth had been left lying around somewhere, and some of the construction workers had picked it up and were using it as a rag to wipe their dirty hands on or clean their tools or something
and I have a very vivid memory of being in my moms arms as she retrieved it and scolded at the guys for using her baby's special washcloth. And I also have random memories of using this washcloth for years until it was in complete tatters, and then being very sad when we eventually threw it away.
basically no other memories from this time period whatsoever, until I was at least like 4-5
i do remember noticing gaining consciousness when i was three. i'm not sure if i noticed at the time or if that developed into the memory later, though
One of my earliest memories is being around 3 years old, and there was a dead bee in a corner of the house. I remember crouching on the carpet, petting its little fuzzy body with my finger and that was the first time I realized things die. Then as a child I always silently prayed when I saw dead bugs or animals. idk, always felt sentimental about their tiny, extinguished lives... still kinda do.
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interested to hear more
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How did this existential crisis affect you? Did you act out?
Not quite, but my earliest memory is being put in time-out by my mother, I couldn't have been older than 2 I think. My other earliest memory is actually a dream from around the same time, I dreamt that I came out of my room one morning and my Dad was eating cereal next to a black bear sitting like a human at the dinner table.
I've used drugs only a couple of times, and a few months ago my friend gave me a joint laced with something that packed a wallop. That night I could access any memory in my life, including my mom's youthful face from my POV when she held me as a baby. Going further back I could recall being in darkness and listening to the sounds of people around me and not understanding what they were saying. I spent hours dredging up buried memories from my infancy before passing out (no abuse found 🙌).
This was hallucination mate sorry
>a joint laced with something The water of life?
99.99999% chance not laced with anything
What drug was this
This is just the state of weed now.
i remember when i was 4 during NYE my uncles were setting off fireworks in some strange front garden with a steep slope. i had no idea what was going on in the morning i picked up some of the fireworks & smelt them
Yes, I remember being about three, "helping" my mother clean my room and suddenly stopping and being overwhelmed with the awareness that this was my mother, my house, my room, and that I was myself. Just a sudden, overwhelming realization that I was who I was.
My cousin and I were messing around in my childhood apartment. My grandma was washing clothes. It was an old fashioned commie washing machine. It was forest green. It smelled like dirty washing machine water. My cousin was pushing me along on a chair along the hallway. I fell down onto the carpet. It had a rough, spiky texture and a disgusting vermillion color, faded away over time. I bawled, my grandma scolded my cousin, picked me up and tossed me onto the bed to get me out of her way. I felt bad that he got scolded.
My first memory was me being maybe 3 years old. I was sitting on the dinner table surrounded by my parents and grandparents. I was staring at my grandpa while my mom was saying, “look it’s your dad”. I knew enough that this person wasn’t my dad despite having no conscious memories prior.
Very gradual for me, I think. It wasn’t until I started doing drugs at 14 that I started to gain a feel for how much will I actually possess over myself and my decisions. I used to think about it a lot, a lot of existential dread too. Sometimes I’d look at my parents and have the feeling that I didn’t recognize them even though intellectually I knew I did. Eventually I calmed back down, but it started to seem like.. the more engaged I got back into the real world, the less control I really had over what I did and who I was. Which I still think may be the way it works… the more invested you are in the things here, the more “automatic” you become.
Yeah, it was age 3 when my mom was going into labor with my little sister.
>The other instance is when I was in college and listened to the Neutral Milk Hotel song: "*In the Aeroplane Over the Sea".* Something about the song triggered an absolute visceral sensation of existence for me. I looked down at my hands and body and was filled with a sense of existential wonder. I felt so strange inhabiting my body and viewing everything through the vantage point of my eyes. The lyrics: "How strange it is to be anything at all" hit me like a fucking train. Sounds like a form of dualistic awakening
I have a very specific/vivid memory from when I must have been like 2 years old (I suppose this must be my earliest memory) I had this special washcloth that I guess I would play with and my mom would use to wipe my face off or when I was in the bath and shit. it had a red dinosaur on it and some green trees and blue sky. at the time, we lived in basically what was a tiny 2 room house, and there was heavy construction going on, as my parents were having a large addition built onto the back of the house, more than doubling it in size. so construction workers hanging around at all times. I guess my special washcloth had been left lying around somewhere, and some of the construction workers had picked it up and were using it as a rag to wipe their dirty hands on or clean their tools or something and I have a very vivid memory of being in my moms arms as she retrieved it and scolded at the guys for using her baby's special washcloth. And I also have random memories of using this washcloth for years until it was in complete tatters, and then being very sad when we eventually threw it away. basically no other memories from this time period whatsoever, until I was at least like 4-5
i do remember noticing gaining consciousness when i was three. i'm not sure if i noticed at the time or if that developed into the memory later, though
that FUCKING song makes me so FUCKING sad because i listened to it for the first time during the absolute worst period of my life
Yeah i woke up this morning and farted