Self Loathing

Like everyone, there are things about myself I hate. In this case, hate is not too strong a word. There are pieces of my personality that torture me daily and leave me angry. Tonight, the part that bothers me the most is memory.

Why, you may ask, would memory be the part I dislike? Well. Depression has done a number on my recollections. Most of my memories are tainted by a dark cloud of sadness, even the happy memories. So, when I think to the past, it is always a painful experience. Depression spreads through my retrospections like a virus, slowly changing their original feeling until there is nothing real left.

I have tried, in the past, to enact a protocol to protect my most cherished memories. I call it the Do Not Corrupt (DNC) Protocol. Essentially, any time I recall the DNC memory in any negative light I flash DNC upon the memory and immediately close it. It actually works to an extent. I have a few DNC memories that still have some of the original positive feelings attached. But I must be careful and vigilant with enforcement of DNC recollections. Too many attached to this protocol weakens the defense, and too much recall of the memory increases the chances of corruption.

The protocol was initially created because of one specifically beautiful memory. I wrote about it before; the girl from statistics dancing gorgeously during her presentation. To this day, it's probably one of the more amazing things I have witnessed. That memory was the creator and first adopter of the DNCP. And, so far so good. I still feel the good, yet bittersweet feelings when thinking about that moment.

Tonight I am recalling something that occurred only a few weeks ago. Another amazing moment with a woman. This one too private to speak about, but still entirely spectacular. I think about that moment, and enjoy the memory. Yet, I can feel my depression gnawing away at the edges. I can feel my mind mincing it into pieces.

I don't want to lose this memory. Oh, how I wish to keep it beautiful...