The only cure for mistaking those memories for the truth in the past, in my opinion, is writing. Recalling every minute past, every story told and every emotion felt. Writing it down immediately when it happens, and hope it is still true when you do. I always knew for me this was the way, but somehow it's impossible to do. Writing is easy but procrastination is easier. Knowing that without it, I will fall back in patterns I do not wish to fall back in, yet thinking every time that this time, this time it's different. They aren't. They never are.
Every time I decide not to write, which is lots and lots of times lately, I see myself going down slowly bit by bit. When that continues I mostly end up wishing I wrote down what happened as I fear I will never see the way I saw things then. I lose a memory every day I don't think it's neccesary. Every day I think that what happened or what I felt is so strong, it doesn't need writing down. Then there I am, months later and stuck with memories that don't add up, that deceive me and tell me emotions could never have been true. I cannot ever rely on memories, that has been proven to me once too often.
Why then do I keep convincing myself that I can? How will I ever understand myself and others when I can't know what's right and not, whether my own mind is telling me what I believe? As always, I find myself wishing I keep true to myself and realise that I need to write, whatever, whenever, as long as I write what is real for me. As always, I'm afraid I won't. I'll see.