the last damn thing i want to do is vent about all the un-healed (though i continuously think they have been healed) wounds from my childhood. i live my life today telling myself that i am not that child anymore and i am not living that life anymore, so there is no reason to dwell on the scars and let myself feel like a victim.
but then reality hits, suddenly and without warning. some weird stupid silly thing will trigger a response from the still-hurting small child hiding inside of me and... voila: anger, emotional pain, confusion, and the desire to self-isolate. then i re-live the most painful moments, over and over and over, and there is nothing my stronger and wiser adult self can say to that hurting child inside of me that will be understood.
this particular episode was milder than most, thankfully. a couple things triggered a reaction in me that my child mind couldn't be rational about. i began running through my mind all the times i felt something like that and then i just got stuck in it and didn't know how to rise above except by really defining it so i could somehow regain control.
as a young child, many things happened that led to me convincing myself that other people's desires, pleasures, fantasies, etc would always take priority over my presence in their lives. we are animalistic humans. we sometimes act on the impulses of our desires or fantasies. it is such impulses that pushed me into the backseat at times when that little me wanted to ride front and center. ego, i know. but a 3 year old who wants to be close to its mother knows nothing about disciplining ego when it has to beg for mom's attention that is stuck on something seemingly far less important than her own child. a 4 year old sleeping in a bed with its mother while a strange man fucks mom as if the 4 year old isn't even there doesn't know about keeping ego under control. all that 4 year old can think in relation to ego is, "what about ME? am I even here? who am I? what is wrong with ME?"
and that last one became a subconscious motto that repeated itself over and over throughout my childhood. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME? because it must have been ME that was the problem, right? of course i know that is erroneous thinking, but the little me just won't listen when i try to tell her that.
she spits hundreds of scenarios back at me... "what about when dad left for his new wife and you barely ever saw him after that and he always canceled plans with you hours after he was supposed to pick you up?"..."what about when you tried to save mom from getting thrown off a balcony by her abusive boyfriend who was trying to kill her, and they BOTH got mad at you for it like you were screwing everything up?" ... "what about..." and it goes on and on and gets worse and the adult me just wants to scream and punch something and say "shut up! it's over! let it go!" ...but all that does is perpetuate her feeling like her emotions are wrong, like she is never heard, and like she shouldn't exist.
i don't know how to love her enough so the wounds will heal. and until that happens, she won't let me trust that anything good in my life will stay.
i am not going to lie... i kind of resent her for that. but, of course, that doesn't help at all.
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