Memory, which is playing the tape, has never been effective with me for more than a few minutes, the time it took to leave court, cross the road and go into the bar - this time will be different.
I picked up another addiction, sailing. Around New Zealand, once in a while, I would have a really bad voyage. Rough seas, seasick, strong winds, cold, and stuck out there for the duration. No way to get off. After one of these voyages, upon returning home, I would have lost all interest in sailing, and the boat would be left for weeks, sometimes months.
Then the thought of the next season would come up. Out come the charts, and the planning the next voyage gets underway. Strangely, there is no memory of the horrors of the last trip. I can only remember the good bits, the sunny days, sheltered anchorages, good fishing, and company of friends. It sounds brilliant, so off I go again.
Like the big book says, We are unable, at certain times, to bring into our consciousness with sufficient force the memory of the suffering horror and misery of the last voyage. We are without defense against the first voyage.