Hi! My name is Morgan. Less than a year ago I was hit in the head with a ladder. Before that, it was the gym floor. Before that, it was the laundry room floor. And before that it was the bottom of someone's shoe. Each time, a little bit more of my memories got lost. I can't tell you which one lost the most, or which one did the most damage, all I can say is the gym floor hurt the most and I can't remember a lot of my past. Thankfully, someone discovered pain medicine and journals!
I decided to haul out my journals. Which are full from years upon years of memories. I used to write in my journal daily, up until about four years ago. I wrote about how funny Jason was, how much I felt left out, and how I wanted to be something when I grew up. I found names of people I had met years before I re-met them and worked with them.
While my box is full of a lot of memories, my favorite is a letter I wrote to myself. It was an assignment in one of my classes. I give myself advice: "Don't keep doing your assignments the night before. You can get A's while doing that now, but that won't always be the case." I remind myself of important things to remember: "Remember that Zak can't make flambe." I even give myself a pep talk "It doesn't matter what everyone else does, you're pretty dang awesome, keep it up! Don't make me look ridiculous!" This letter even mentions a movie idea I had. Yep, Awesome!
It really does get frustrating not remembering anything on my own. It can be interesting too though. It kind of gives me insight into who I really am.
For example, I thought I wanted to be a film maker just because grandma worked in the DGM department and I made friends there. Nope. Apparently, I used to dream of getting an Oscar someday (I wrote acceptance speeches on scraps. I saved them). I used to write movie ideas down between poems in my notebooks. I even analyzed some films. "There was this really cool part in the movie I saw today! I think it could be really cool if used to describe a person instead of a plant!" (I don't remember the movie...good going, Morgan, not writing it down.)
I also thought that my sense of humor was dependent and who I hung out with...not true either. I have the same sense of humor now with the friends I have as I did when I was 12. That's kind of interesting.
I also realized that I get excited over all the same simple things. Like coming home. I have a whole entry dedicated to me walking in the door after being gone for a week. Just last night I got excited walking in the front door after being gone all day.
I still believe all the same things, I just have words now to express those beliefs. Before: "Ugh! People are so annoying! No one ever seems to really think! Like what the heck are they thinking!" Now: "Sometimes people really frustrate me. I feel like they don't like to take the time to fully think things through." Same idea, different words. Kinda interesting.
Here I've been, confused as to why I am how I am. I'd lay in bed and try to figure out why I do what I do. The answers have been under my bed the whole time. I am Morgan. I am so much Morgan that I can't be contained in just my mind. That's why Nature created mean little girls and gravity, so as to help me clean out the parts of me that could be stored in a box. Now I am Morgan and part of me lives in a box below my bed.