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categories = ["me"]
tags = ["aphantasia"]
date = "2018-07-24"
title = "Prising open a deathgrip"
layout = "post"
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I live in the present. What else can I do, when [I have no memory](https://medium.com/frenetic-scribblings/flickering-like-candle-flame-in-the-wind-3ac0c9537402).
Look to the future? Psh. I am indeed prone to daydreaming about what *might be *but theres no inherent danger in that. Not while I keep it in check.
No. My problem is clinging to the present. Not to the past, to the present.
I do not give up that which I have. Not without a fight. Not without deep [clawmarks on every fading memory](/post/2018/07/clawmarks-on-my-memories/).
As a result…I take loss badly. I flat out fear it. I dont like to look forward too far, and I cant look back so…I hold tight to what I have. Theres a damn good reason I fear death so bad. This is alargepart of it.
The thing about holding tightly is that it smothers…
By nature, I death grip at slivers of life. It makes me possessive. It makes me…intense. It makes me suffocating.
But without a memory, I dont know how to let go. Ive got to though, otherwise I always kill that which Im trying to preserve.
I refuse to let myself love like this. I dont know how to love lightly. And anything else isnt really love. Not the crushing fake-image attachment that I previously labelled love. I struggle with the L word in general at the moment. Not least because [Ive had it subverted before.](https://medium.com/myfuckingfeelings/an-acidic-introduction-to-hate-love-c275655eb869)
Maybe Ive learnt enough lessons…maybe Im lucky in that regard…but thats a story for another time…
Now, a note that my insufferably sincere side refuses to let me omit. This is a public self reflection (standalone piece on the whys of that coming whenever it frees from draft hell) made while mildly tipsy. Caution advised.
But I suppose, isnt honesty the best policy in writing? I dont know. I dont know if I know anything anymore…Maybe thats okay.
Well, rambling now. Goodnight!