There are so many things that I have blocked out of my memory from childhood. And it isn't that I block out all bad memories, or all good ones, as there seems to be no rhyme or reason to this forgetfulness. But as I was reading Heather Armstrong's post about neurosis, I was immediately brought back to mine.
Let me first just say that she comes by this naturally, I had all sorts of weird tics as a kid, tons of obsessive-compulsive behaviors, like praying to God a certain way, with very specific words, over and over again, EVERY TIME I SAT ON THE TOILET, that he protect our house from a giant, falling meteor.What can I say. It worked!
Sitting on the toilet in the bathroom, talking to G-d. Why I never kneeled at the foot of my bed? I couldn't tell you. Why I summoned him by a toilet instead of near an open field of blossoming flowers? Not a clue. I can't even remember my reasoning behind it. I wish I could sit here and say it was at the center of my home where I felt most secure. Or I only allowed myself to open up in complete privacy, and who would interrupt me in the bathroom? But the truth is, I have hundreds of these little idiosyncrasies, and this is another. At one point, I must have spoken to my higher power on the toilet, and it became a habit. Something I did compulsively, until I suddenly didn't. I can't tell you how strange it is to realize someone was doing the exact same thing. Actually, I wonder how many toilet prayers there are from adolescent girls asking for who knows what.
Dear G-d, why does Billy not like me?
Dear Aly, it's because you are talking to yourself on a toilet. Daily.
The real question is why did I ever stop? And will I remember next time I am in there?