Morbid Romantic

Book Review & Personal Blog

What are your earliest childhood memories? How old were you at the time? Why do you think those memories are what stayed? How are those memories important to you?

I didn’t have a ‘nice’ childhood as childhood’s go. Both of my parents were alcoholics who spent a lot of late nights locked in a bedroom getting high. My father was abusive and my mother was really too weak and too scared of him to do anything about it, which I don’t blame her for. Because of the chaotic and frightening nature of my childhood, a lot of it I have chosen to simply forget. Oh, it’s always there in the back of my mind, and if anything I am the result of all that I have been through, but my memories are jumbled up because of the things I have chosen to lay aside in the name of emotional progress.

If anything, this makes me cling all the more passionately to the few moments that I do have, the few things that really shine out as great and fun. My important times are all the more vital and bright because they were so rare and such a relief to the standard run of things around the house.

It is really no surprise that my childhood memories, the good ones, involve my sister and me. She was and still is my best friend, the only person I really think understands and accepts me for better or for worse. We grew apart as teenagers because that’s what teenagers do, but we’re becoming friends again now that we are adults. When we were part of that isolated world that is childhood, we played together, ate together, and did everything together.

My earliest memories are of the two of us playing. Barbies were our thing. We were both hardcore Barbie addicts with the remote control cars and Dreamhouse to prove it. The two of us would sit for hours, confined to our bedroom as our parents did their ‘thing.’ We’d dress Barbie, get her and Ken into all sorts of drama, and decorate/redecorate the Dreamhouse (it had flippable walls to turn rooms into different areas… awesome, I know).

Then there were the fights, which the two of us laugh about now. Yes, we were quite violent as kids. We still have scars that last to this day! I accuse her of being the reason I need therapy so badly. But she was mean! Always chasing me around, always making me be the ugly stepsister when we’d play… threatening me with a knife. Yes! A KNIFE! She was crazy, I tell you, absolutely out of her mind. I tell everyone that I should get a survivor’s medal for having grown up with her. All in the name of fun, of course. Kids will be kids.

And then there was the time we decided to run away…

But only got to the backyard before giving up. The idea died just as quickly as it was birthed from our minds. I guess we didn’t quite have it in us to be so adventurous. It was fine and easy when it was Barbie, but not so easy when it was us.

So, I have a lot of great memories. I can’t tell you how old I was when these things happened, or what grade I was in. I just remember the events and how happy I felt during them.

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