I read this post from Broken Glass and it really struck a chord with me. I don’t really remember my childhood either. Oh I could tell you a story or two about things that happened when I was a child, but most of them come from having heard the story from other people, I don’t really remember them happening. I, too, can look at pictures of myself and have no connection to that person. I have no memory of what I was thinking, or feeling, whether I was happy, or sad at that point in my life. The picture might as well be of someone else for all I know about the person in the photo.
I try not to think about my childhood very often. It’s too depressing to realize that the only “real” memories I have are bad ones, and even those are vague.