Writing Prompt: Archive of my Lives

Okay, so I just need to get this out of my brain and into a spot where I'll see it later. The concept has been bouncing around my head for a bit, but it just rendered into a form that I can put into words, and I want to try and capitalize on it when I have the time to sit down and write a bit. Whether it'll be a singular short story, serialized thing, or monograph, I have no idea. But, I think it would be a waste to not at least put the idea out into the world.

The Premise

The story follows a main character, waking up in a daze. They remember nothing of their past and find themselves in a cold stone chamber in a rural manor. They are surrounded by journals, shelves of artifacts, and boxes of documents. On the table at the center of the room is a letter from their past self.

This is not the first time they've experienced this. Far from it. Turns out, they're immortal! But, the key drawback to their immortality is that they experience a dementia-like cognitive decline near the end of a normal human lifespan. Though they remain youthful, their mind ages until they lose all function. After undergoing gradual decline and brain death, they emerge with a fresh mind, but have lost all their past memories. Though they occupy the same body, they emerge as essentially a new person shaped by the experiences and world events they live through.

One of their past selves was a journaler who left a memoir from their life experience, and as each lifetime passes, those past selves chose to chronicle their own lifetime in their own way. This collective effort from the main character's past lifetimes gives them a better idea of who they were, who they are, and who they can be.

At the same time, this archive is far, far from exhaustive. What they chose to preserve, how they chose to write about themselves and othres, and what has survived the centuries means that the archive is fragmentary and decaying, and its chronicler is sometimes a very untrustworthy narrator. As the protagonist orients themself to the age in which they have become aware, they also need to come to grips with who they've been. Sometimes benevolent, sometimes a monster. Sometimes meek, sometimes self-aggrandizing to the point of writing their own hagiography.

Then, as they go through their own lifetime, they come back to the archive to try and gleam some knowledge from the past, and also aspire to chronicle their own experiences to assist their future self. At times, they wonder if they've been honest enough with themself for what they're writing to be of any help.

It's a story about memory, and how it fades. What do we choose to remember about our lives, what do we mis-remember, either because of our limited perspective, or because we've deluded ourselves? What's worth remembering and holding onto, and what's better off left forgotten?

I find the idea of dementia intensely scary. I make a living using my mind, and historical preservation is part of my life's work. So I find myself struggling over the things I (and we collectively) forget. I think this could be an interesting wrinkle to the concept of immortality,basically being put through repetitive cognitive rebirth. It's like being repeatedly isekai'd back into your own life.

Will this ever become more than an idea? We shall see!