Why leaving behind good memories rewards you.

As a kid growing up, I was a very typical archetype of the "Weird Kid" that passed for the early 2000's. I was into stuff that wasn't popular back then, I had smelly clothes because my family was poor and we didn't have money for detergent sometimes, but most of all because I was a young kid with Asperger's, I just did not know how to talk to people. It wasn't a dramatic case of society failing me or the school district not teaching me what was necessary to connect to people. I was just inexperienced and awkward. That being said, people around me always gave me a chance, and I always tried to make friends. It was never a graceful thing, and sometimes I overstepped social bounds in a bad way. Texting people at midnight, being sad if they didn't hang out with me everyday. It was toxic, and everyday I try to improve and move away from that. But even though I did not navigate social situations well, I still had gracious friends who I still remember to this day, and surprisingly they remember me as well.

There's a theory I once read on the internet that if you have depression, your memory will be affected and you will forget some things. I was and am still depressed, officially diagnosed back in 2020. I have forgotten the majority of my school years, who I talked to, or even what I did. All I know is that I managed to graduate. The only reason I bring this up is that every now and then, people will walk up to me and say hello, and I will not know who they are. Maybe its nostalgia or maybe its just kindness, but these people always say that I was a cool person to know or that we hung out often. And when you're depressed, it's very easy to self criticize to the amount of emotional self-immolation. I always thought that I was such an awful person growing up that there couldn't possibly be anyone who remembers me fondly, let alone remember me at all. That's where the subject of this article comes in, I will call him R for privacy reasons.

I've been recently out of a job, and while looking for places that would hire me I eventually ran out of money for food. Bills and the like drained my bank account leaving it a financial desert. It left me feeling both hungry and miserable. To make some money to buy some eggs, I sometimes walk around my neighborhood and pick up bottles and cans for recyclables and while walking around, R saw me picking up some cans outside of his home and offered me a whole box filled with his recyclables along with a chicken kabob. He talked to me, reminded me that we were buddies back in high school and even offered me a job at the place he worked at. I said thank you and walked home quickly. I was so touched by his kindness that I felt like crying. I forgot all about R and even the friends that connected us, but whatever I said and did during those formative years was good enough to illicit that kind act from him. Sometimes when things in my life are low, and I am genuinely depressed, I hope and pray to whoever will listen that somehow I'll get through the bad and make it to the good. And being not even a good friend, just a decent one has rewarded me with touches of good throughout the storm of bad that 2020 and onward has launched upon me. I will always be grateful to people like R who have helped me out during these hard times. I don't know if its karma or God or something else but somehow I always make it through, and I would like to believe it's because of me trying to be a good person throughout my life.