“THE BROKEN HEART OF MY INNER CHILD”
I hear a man speaking to his parents about a piece of TV furniture he’s bought. I don’t think they care, they are simply happy their son has made time for them. You often hear parents say as they are older how they regret their behavior in the past, just when they’re nearly at the end of their lives, long after traumatizing their children in any way. When they’re already in therapy for their trust issues, fear of abandonment, daddy issues, pleasing personalities and what not. I miss the person my mother used to be. I want to be with my dad until he makes a stone cold comment. I want to feel heard, seen and understood. My inner child screams and cries. My inner child wants to climb back into the womb. My inner child doesn’t like being a grown up. I don’t have many friends because I like to push people away. Usually they find me too much to deal with and they’re gone before I even need to push at all. I don’t like to tell people about how I feel because they tend to not take me seriously. When I have a panic attack I feel like I’m going crazy or like I’m dying. When I feel depressed all I want is some warmth. I am scared of being selfish but I just long for saying what I desire. I enjoy to pretend I’m doing good so other people don’t see me as a burden or as weak. I enjoy being liked and appreciated so I will pit my entire self away for you. I secretly hope someone senses the tears I’m hiding but no one ever does. Eventually the weight of all this becomes too much and I collapse, and I cry for help and I shut off my senses and wait for the time to pass. I lie in a bed in my mothers house and she brings me tea and strawberries and soup. I sleep an shower and sleep and shower. For a small second all feels well. All feels like it had always been and how I want it to stay forever. Unfortunately it never does. “That’s life.” the adults say. I simply have to nod and accept. That’s life. That’s life. This is it - this is life.
