It’s amazing how we forget things over time. So many things that have been highly important to us in the past just fade away until one day, we simply can’t remember. What was the name of my pet rabbit? What was the cheat code in Doom? Why on Earth did I like Dawson’s Creek so much?

Well, I’m finding it the same i here. The first prison I was in was horrific and every day was a battle to remain mentally healthy but now I struggle to remember all of the details. I remember the big things like the “dog boxes” I was forced into for an unknown amount of time while I was being processed and I know that the inspectorate had condemned them over 25 years previously as conditions of torture.

I remember the rats, too, and I remember that the inspection report said the SPS needed to “improve” the rat infestation (I never knew if they meant more or fewer rats). I also remember the attitude of the staff which, on the whole, was truly disgusting.

Memory, of course, is a mysterious thing and much work over the years has gone into it. I’d like to inject further details at this point but, as I don’t have access to Google, I’m afraid I can’t. However, I do understand that relying on one’s memory for important, factual matters is unreliable.

This is why we have records and actually this is one of the two reasons I am writing this blog (the other being to make others aware of exactly what happens behind these shady walls in their name).

We know that past events can be forgotten or altered by our minds and fake memories can be implanted through intense processes like therapy and events like mass sociogenic illnesses. It is for this reason we have rigorous processes is something is of grave importance.

We don’t trust a person’s memory about correctly closing the door of a space rocket – there is a sensor for it and that sensor probably has another sensor on it.

If someone remembers a tractor driving over wet sand but there are no tyre tracks, we question the memory. It isn’t necessarily that the person was lying as such but without supporting information which would be there were a memory true, we may doubt the accuracy of the memory.

So now I’ve written this, I’m questioning my memories of the first prison I was in. Did the showers really smell that bad? Were the trifles at Christmas really that good? Were the bedbugs really that ravenous?

Oh, by the way, I’ve remembered why I liked Dawson’s Creek so much – the soundtrack is brilliant!

NaN.