Life as a literary character must be a bit puzzling. You seem to constantly be living the same scenes over and over, but each time the words that come out of you are different...changed without your permission or control. The gestures you make have also been altered slightly. And weren't you happy the last time you lived through this? Where did all of this anger come from?
Sometimes you do exactly as you have done before only the first time around you said the words indoors. Suddenly the room has evaporated and you're left wondering how it is you've been transported into a field or the abandoned parking lot of a shopping center.
These are currently the kind of trials I'm putting my characters through as I rewrite scenes in the second draft of my novel. On some David Lynch-ian level, I like to think they remain somewhat aware of they've done in previous drafts. It must be maddening for them. Don't feel so bad for them though. Trust me, it's all for their own good.
Personally, I enjoy the all of the deleted, changed scenes. I look at them as the pieces of the story and insights to the characters that I selfishly keep for myself.