Knowing what’s brewing inside your brain might not change much of your day-to-day, but it can certainly put you at ease from the fear that you are an other – too different to be helped, too odd to ever live a normal life. It shouldn’t be what defines you, but in a world of labels, it’s much more powerful to affix one upon yourself than to have to fight against anything someone might assume upon you.

Imagine a big storage case, with a ton of clips sitting inside and when you recall one, your brain works like a vending machine to dispense it to your consciousness.

With flashbacks, or in my case, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, the vending machine is broken and releases too many clips out at once, or starts dispensing them without someone placing an order, at the wrong time. Anything I have lived through can be easily accessed at any moment. Good or bad memories—the brain is dispensing without regard.