Trauma – Page 7 – James Ballantyne

Surviving Psychopathic Parenting (Part 22) The absence of life guidance

I have just read two books over the Christmas holidays, as I travelled to San Diego to spend my first Christmas with my partner, and now fiancé, Christelle. I knew I would have time on the journeys to read, and maybe time during, also one of the things that Christelle and I do a lot of is read to each other. The books were ‘The Seat of the Soul’ by Gary Zukav, and ‘The Choice’ by Edith Eger, and today I have just finished the second the two. Both books have been incredible in very different ways. But its Edith Egers that I have underlined more furiously, and brought so many aspects of my own journey to there surface.

In ‘The Choice’ Edith describes her experiences growing up in Hungary/Czechoslavakia, being sent to Auschwitz in 1938, dancing for the Dr of Death, surviving, when 1m others didnt, being taken to camp, work house, woods, being starved, punished and separated from her family, some of which she had no knowledge of whether they were alive.

In the second half of the book she describes her marriage, her children and then her journey into becoming a therapist, and then going back to the places, Germany and Poland, where she experienced her traumas. She intertwines beautifully how her patients in therapy brought her to her own self reflection of her past, present and future, and how, ultimately, we all have a choice.

I will more than likely write about a number of aspects from the book, there are so many. The first is what struck me, about the things that gave her hope during the years in Auschwitz; three things emerge from her story; One is the love of her life – Eric, who she was separated from, the other was her Sister – who she was with for much of these years – and the third thing were the words of her mother – and the dream that one day she would see her mother again.

‘I hear my mothers words come back to me, as though she is there in there barren room, whispering through the music..‘just remember, no one can take away from you what you have put in your own mind’

Later Edith reverses something her mother had said to her (Im glad you have brains, because you have no looks) in Auschwitz, for survival, she translated this as ‘I’ve got brains, I’m smart, I can figure this out’

One of the questions my therapist asked me in a very first session with her over a year ago was ; ‘What were some of the life lessons you received from your parents?’

Nothing.

But that wasn’t exactly true. There were rules… but not life lessons

Whats fascinating is that the very people who want to control you, dehumanise you, abuse you and neglect you, are the very people who give you no advice for how to overcome them. That makes sense, doesnt it.

So, had I been sent to the plains of the Gulf in 1990, or Kosovo in 1997, or a Nuclear bomb landed on Market Harborough in 1991 and I was having to survive that situation, there would have been no life advice, at all. I would have been armed with such wise sayings like

‘Dont you dare upset me again‘ or

‘I need you to make me proud‘

‘ Dont you be so smart’

‘ You’re asking too much, dont be spoiled’

‘ I needed to get that temper out of you’

‘Dont be so ungrateful’

These would have been pretty useless in terms of what I needed to survive, should I have been put in a place to have to.

Thats the thing, they dont give you guidance for life – just rules, or invisible rules, of obedience in their created world. Its like any of the ‘gifts’ they give – they are loaded with hidden meaning, and rarely meant for your actual good.

Unlike Edith, I had to rely on an inner voice despite the emotional contagion of the parent who’s world everything had to revolve around. How do you trust an inner voice that is so disabled and frightened?

I also realise, that from a very early age, probably 9-10 that I had to rely on myself, to survive – developing my own inner voice that was all about survival. Not unlike Edith, but my escape date was when I was 18, and I was counting down the days from about the age of 12. Edith had no idea when hers was.

My personal prison, was the family home – with the emotionally abusive monster within. I don’t compare my situation to Ediths in terms of severity in any way, but it brought to my attention the lack of guidance or wisdom passed on to me by my parents, ever. I also note how desperate Edith was to see her parents again, to have them alive, to go back to a time when this was the case. I watched as other children ran to hug their mum at school and nursery. I had to be dragged away from school, and the one who wanted to be last to leave every day.

So I developed an inner voice- a survival voice one day this will be over, ill survive, I always do, and needed voices of support from outside the situation. Some from books, some from teachers, some from youth workers and church.

But its strange that reading a book about a Holocaust survivor brings me closer to aspects of my own past. Closer to aspects that were different for me, closer to aspects that reveal what I did or didn’t have. What if its not your care-giver that gives you couple through the trauma – but the one who creates the trauma? What if thats what I have to heal from?

Jan 4, 2022

Surviving Psychopathic Parenting (Part 21) Accepting delusional normality

If you’re like me and have spent a lot of your life reading or watching politics, you may know about the phrase ‘hyper-normalisation’ . I dont know who coined it, but its spoken of in depth in Adam Curtis’ brilliant documentary here. The key part in which he speaks of it, is when the people of Russia dying of poverty are living a very different life to that of which is portrayed on their TV screens, and they accept it as ‘normal’. Imagine A Boris Christmas party being live broadcasted last year. Curtis’ documentary is long, but worth it.

Anyway, this blog isn’t about politics. Its about Normality.

I have found it fascinating, that over the course of the last few years, especially, as I have shared my story, incidents, events and situations of my childhood and then more recent times involving my parents, I sometimes get the reaction ; ‘That isn’t normal behaviour’ , then followed with… ‘ its shocking/abusive/disturbing/manipulative’

It isnt normal behaviour.

But then, like Boris world, and his accompanying anger – growing up in ‘non normal’ world, is about navigating it for safety reasons – showing pretend acceptance that doesnt rock the boat, hiding and all the other things. But its one of the weirdest things to write about, is that those who create a delusional reality, that isnt ‘normal’ (but normal to them) – based on entitlement, ego, woundedness, self absorption, narcissism etc – then expect that this normal is adhered to by others.

Sounds sort of cult like. Sounds pretty psychopathic too.

But what about me, what about any of us caught in the whirlwind of delusion, of a person chucking out death traps all the time?

One form of ‘normal’ they create is the one that you are forced to accept – their world.

There is another one too.

Theres the ‘Everything is normal’ that they determine.

They do a weird thing.

Imagine for a moment that you have no capacity to show remorse, shame or guilt – can you imagine that?

So now, consider how you react after someone has called you out for your crime?

Remember you cannot feel shame, guilt or remorse (and secretly you enjoyed the party, or crime)

Of course, not only do you have selective amnesia about it, deny it, or blame others for it (taking no responsibility) … and hope to get away with it..again and again… but then what…

Yes, you guessed it. They carry on as normal.

As if nothing happened.

Making no attempt to do any work in the relationship, because..they dont do anything wrong..remember?

Thats one of the crazy bewildering patterns of the abusive ones. Sometimes it even is accompanied by ‘playing the victim’ and being hurt that they got found out. On other occasions it may be said that ‘everyone just needs to move on and forget about it’ or ‘you cant get over what I did, I said sorry’ – putting the responsibility on someone else again, and they create a new normal, their normal.

Its bewildering isnt it? And thats why growing up in an emotionally abusive home, delusions become normalised.

And everyone else goes – that really isnt normal, or thats not the way to deal with hurt or pain..

But negotiation or conversation about the abuse never happens.

It’s normalised. Its not even viewed in that way. Its ignored.

Because a person who cant feel, cant accept that others might feel too.

Everyone else is emotional and cant get over it.

Most normal people recognise when they cause pain.

Some normal people might apologise

Some might have to face consequences.

Others live in a reality in which none of these exist.

Where everyone else is expected to see normal in the way they do.

As a child, its only possible to navigate through the delusion with safety, and escape on the mind.

But that delusional reality, and the trauma created as a result of it..affects..

Every time I accepted normal as abusive I denied myself, though that core was hurting badly.

Surviving Psychopathic parenting was about navigating the delusional normality and the price that I and everyone else paid for it.

And then what happens when you stop…

And realise that I deserve better, and able to stand up for myself.

See the delusional world, highlight others to it, and stay out.

Dec 17, 2021

When there is nothing, but relief

I wonder – does ‘grief-guilt’ exist?

Not the ‘I should have done this’ ‘ I could have prevented something happening’ kind of guilt – when there is grief – a bit like this

But more, like , that feeling when you’re expected by other people to feel grief for the loss of something – and yet you have nothing?

Like, that feeling when you’re meant to feel loss and pain – and you’d feel like you were pretending to feel anything close like that?

Like, that feeling when you then feel guilty for ‘not’ feeling the way others might do about a situation, when actually that feeling of grief – is no where to be found?

Grief-guilt.

Guilt for not feeling grief – when somehow you’re supposed to feel grief – because the person who is talking to you would feel grief…

Guilt for not being able to muster up any sense of emotional feeling – because, there is nothing.

Grief-guilt – because Im meant to feel something?

I know what grief feels like, feelings that overcome, that aching, of missing something and someone. Just shitty tears. Shitty tears that hurt.

Love filled tears of loss, of someone I loved, and loved me back.

Grief reserved for those for whom there is love.

As I watched ‘The Boy called Christmas’, something was helpfully revealed to me

Grief is the price we pay for love. And it is worth it, a thousand times over
Matt Haig (A Boy Called Christmas, on Netflix now)

It is.

Grief is the price we pay for love.

So – what happens when there wasn’t actually love?

Grief may just be hard to find?

‘You’ll miss them when they’re gone’ Some people often say.

If you’ve not walked the path of toxic, narcissist, psychopathic parents – who ‘look’ like ‘nice’ people to everyone else – you dont really know.

And by the way – they haven’t died…

But I have taken huge steps in the last 2 years to remove them from my life.

And bring others into the collective space of seeing them for who they are, and have always been ..forever.

And they have, and do.

Which has been really hard work – and no doubt many of you have stopped reading what I write… its painful stuff, I’m sure.

So I don’t feel grief for the loss of the relationship with my parents – even though im possibly meant to, because , I think Matt Haig nailed it – Grief is the price we pay for love.

If there was a relationship in the first place – there would be something to grieve over.

But its always been the way it always has been.

There was no ‘way things were’ – so there was no ‘restoration’ or ‘reconciliation’ – fine ideals, and even manipulative standpoints – a broken relationship implies that there was actually something.

I might grieve the person of myself who had to hide for decades under the shroud of trauma – though that person is feeling safe to play again, to live and love

I might grieve the lost time

I might grieve the love I didn’t have , especially when I see it in others – and know that its ok

Or the Cards I couldn’t send

But it’s ok not to feel that actual tear stained, shitty, painful grief for those who have abused us, the caregivers who were meant to do more. I think we need to say this. It’s ok.

Save the grief for those we actually loved, and who loved us back in truth. Those who natured and protected us, for even glimpses in our lives.

We have enough actual feelings to feel, to notice and accept – the grief for those who we have actually lost, loved ones – that forcing feelings (to avoid shame) doesnt feel right at all.

So grief-guilt – can go its merry way and jump the hell off.

Permission to not feel grief. Permission to tell the grief guilt to be dispelled.

None of us need to force grief, or be forced to. It’ll happen if it happens.

So what do I actually feel?

I feel peace. I feel free. I feel safe. I feel big.

Vindication is a hard fought battle.

I might feel relief.

Maybe ‘Grilief’ is a more appropriate word.

The combination of grief and relief – if theres grief at all.

Dec 14, 2021

Surviving Psychopathic Parenting (Part 20) Turning up to school, with blood on my hands

(TW, Self Harm)

There was blood on my hands every day I was in Primary school.

No scars of the pain of abuse, apart from my own.

Torn away skin

On the top of my fingers.

Every day pain.

Squeeze those fingers. Make it bleed

Feel that pain.

Make it sore.

Every day pain.

Pick that Scab and make it worse.

My fingers, my nails, my spots, my hair

Needed to feel something

No signs of abuse on my body, except what I did to myself

Soften that nail, break it off, and wait for the pain

How bad will it be

skin peeled back

Infections

Blood red turned to white

Septic fingers

That smell and

sting of TCP

Septic fingers

Signs of anxiety, fear and self sabotage

Septic fingers

Septic home

gnawing fingers till they bled

Punished for picking them

Hands slapped more

Pain on pain

Shamed for picking them

Pick the skin back

make it bleed

my body doesn’t matter

Pain I needed to feel

And if not fingers, toes

Toes bleeding through the night

Kicking footballs the next day.

Blood stained socks in school shoes.

My Pain body. Body full of pain.

Trying to squeeze it out , one septic finger at a time

get the pain out, will it go away?

Pain, the only feeling I was able to feel.

Pain was all I deserved to feel

Pain, in a septic home of terror.

Pain Pain go away

Come back the next day.

Another nail, another unhealed bit of skin

Sore, bright red, raw, pain.

Bite, bite, pick, pick

Cant let them heal.

Stay sore.

Self inflicted wounds

Hiding scars of terror

Of loveless neglect

Feel the pain

Never let it go away.

Turning up every day

With blood on my fingers.

Dec 7, 2021

15 phrases not to say to children of abusive parents

A few months ago I wrote a piece about the myths that surround in regard to parents – myths like ‘Parents love you whatever’ or ‘Mums are so supportive’ that do nothing for anyone who’s experience of parents is vastly different to this, to the point of being abusive, physically, emotional, sexually or spiritually (or a combination of all of these), they do more than nothing, they give these parents an already sympathetic starting point. If you want to have a read of that piece, it is here ; The myths about parents that prevent abuse from being believed.

You see the thing is, when youve known that your parents have been awful from an early age, you get the opportunity to respond to alot of ‘well-meaning’, sometimes trite, sometimes misadvised comments from people, who might be trying to help, without actually knowing the situation.

Sometimes these phrases do no more than pile on heaps of guilt and shame – that somehow I was to blame about the way my parents are, or were towards me, or they sort of encourage a kind of grief/guilt – that somehow I ‘should’ feel this way about my parents…but I don’t.

Maybe these are things ‘not’ to say to a child who is known to have difficult parents. Maybe these are things not to say to an adult child who is now able to deal with those parents, or even to grandchildren who have worked out their grandparents. Most of them I have heard in one form or another.

They can’t be that bad…because you turned out ok
They could have been worse
Your Poor parents having to deal with you
At least they stayed together when other couples didnt
You only get one set of parents
You’ll miss them when they’re gone, trust me
At least you have 1 decent parent
Of course they’re not perfect, you have too high expectations – go easy on them
Considering their past, they did their best
Look at what they did for you, kept you fed, and watered
You’re meant to honour them, the Bible says so.
You have to learn to forgive them
One day you’ll realise they were right all along (isnt that what they say about Dads?)
You’ll grow up and accept them as you get older.
Is it fair for your children to miss out on their grandparents?

Can you see how harmful some of these comments are? Ive received nearly all of them over the course of the 43 years of responding and trying to deal with my parents.

Some of these reflect how the person has been manipulated by the parents already (3), some of them reflect how that person might feel about their parents (6) others reflect a moral/spiritual imperative (11,12) that then requires some unpacking to not take on that shame and guilt.

Some of them seem to want to blame the child – that somehow they are responsible for their parents (8)

And some reflect that being grateful means that parents fulfilled a legal requirement , to be fed, watered and have somewhere to sleep (2, 10)

And obviously, the way I grew up and became who I am has something to do with them. (1) Gees, thanks for that one, they stole enough without that credit. What if children raised by narcissist parents got somewhere..despite them? not because of them. Yeah. Exactly. Because that’s the only way, or its a pile of self destruction and torment, or both.

It could be easy to say 9. But then again, thats like saying that every action they took for an entire parenthood can be attributed to their own childhood. And not everyone who grew up a baby boomer, or had a difficult childhood, or even an entitled one, is necessarily a bad parent. Some do the work. Some take responsibility.

For 7, see here.

And for number 5. Yes, you’re right… but your point is?

and 15… difficult one, but protecting them from harm is more important than toxicity and gifts.. isnt it?

Lets deal with number 6. Are you sure about that? Actually really sure? – didnt think so…

So maybe, if you have good parents, maybe if you’ve got amazing parents, maybe if your parent is your best friend, then do have a think about the effect of the well meaning saying on someone who really doesn’t have that kind of relationship with a parent. Someone, who maybe has had to do alot of work to create their own safe distance from their parents. Someone who has had to undergo the emotional torment of parent stuff for a very long time.

And that leads me on to number 14. This one is the only possible true one. Because growing up does happen, seeing them, even clearer does happen, accepting them does happen too, as does accepting that they are unlikely to change, they get worse (as Nina Brown describes) , and accepting and spending time with them are two vastly different things.

So from someone who has struggled alot with their parents, and heard many if not all of these things and more about what I’m expected to do, or feel about my parents, i thought I would write a few of these sayings down, because they are so common, so often said, and just want to say that you dont have to accept your parents, or like them, or put yourself in a place where they do not respect you. You are valuable, and can create situations to protect yourself from them.

And, sometimes its about biting your tongue, or giving that look to anyone who gives you the gift of the well meaning, but harmful phrase like above.

This piece was inspired by this one from Peg Streep ; 8 things not to say from someone estranged from a parent in it she writes the following about children who have to protect themselves from their parents, effectively estranging them and blocking them. I like what she says in response to my number 11 :

The taboo has the back-up of a Biblical Commandment which enjoins us to honor our mothers and fathers as well as deeply-held ideas about filial obligation and the never-ending gratitude we are supposed to feel for those who put us on the planet or took us in; who fed, clothed, sheltered, and educated us; and paid for all of those things. Since those happen to be legal requirements, it’s actually not snarky to note that if that were all that is required of a parent, an orphanage would be an ideal one.

Even though recent psychological research substantiates that the decision by the adult child to estrange from family is long thought-out and a process that may include periods of attempted reconciliation by the adult child, the culture still frames it as a fit of pique or anger and a sign of immaturity. In researching my books—over a decade now—I have found the decision to estrange as is almost always deeply thought through, worried about, and revisited in the thousands of people I have heard from over the years; these stories echo my own.

If you want to read more on this subject then I do recommend the books in the self-help resources section of this site, especially Nina Brown and Lindsay Gibsons, and also, in the process of seeing, realising, and loving yourself through the challenges of emotionally abusive parents, do seek out professional therapy to help you to reconstruct, and rebuild through it.

Feel free to share and like this piece to help others. Thank you

Nov 18, 2021

On Shame, Vulnerability and Faith – the experience of women – a conversation to listen and learn from

Two of my last posts have been about Shame and Vulnerability, and in particular the areas of shame that may be more prevalent in Men, given societal expectations.

So theres Shame that men feel.

Theres also Shame that men create – that Women feel, that women carry and hide that affects them.

In the industries run by men, that perpetuate shame – to control to to make money.

In the faith industries run by men, cultivated by men – that damage, wound and inflict shame.

We have a responsibility, given, that we create society.

If you hadn’t started to listen to Women, and their stories of how shame affects them, in faith contexts, in society – then maybe its time to.

Not deny it, not to reject it – but to stop and listen

And recognise, deeply, our part in this, and to do something about it

So I share with you a personal, warm, honest, sometimes sweary video below of my partner Christelle, and our friend Marie, – both previously evangelical Christians, both had been in ministry, both in their 40’s in western society.

Do watch, and listen,

What surprises you? What do you learn? what might you change as a result? What has to change?

Healing ourselves is about being open to listen, about acknowledging the pain we’ve inflicted, and making amends – to do better.

Please do put comments below, like and share the video , ill put the link below too.

The link is here https://youtu.be/xsqDC0Q4OrE

I would like to add that if you are interested in exploring the subject of Shame, Trauma and Christianity even further then further reading on this can be found by Karen O Donnell and Sally Nash in the UK, and Serene Jones, Shelley Rambo in the US – they have , in the last 20 years, began to write on shame, trauma and theology. It is worth a look, do follow Karen on social media for details of studying this subject in the UK too.

Nov 14, 2021

Saving an exhausted bumble bee

Lying motionless, almost on my small balcony lay a bumble bee in the morning heat today

Exhausted

Barely clinging on to the edge of the wood, nearly about to drop down a 30ft gap

close, to death

So I googled what to do and mixed up a combination of water and sugar in a small container

Then put some nearby

on the wood, so it could be away from the edge..

then I watched and waited.

I had no idea if it was damaged

No idea if it would fly

And I watched as it moved cautiously towards the liquid, stuck its leg in, then its mouth

Sucking away at the sugar, desperate, hungry, exhausted

It kept sucking

finding its energy

and gradually it moved away from the liquid

energy returning

but could it still fly…

You can watch what happened next in full in this short video Bumblebee

it crossed my mind that the Bumblebee is a good metaphor for ourselves after trauma – the pandemic, abuse, accident – what we don’t need when exhausted is to be flicked off the ledge, but something sweet, someone to pick us up and give us what we need at that time.

Time… to take in all the nutrients we need

Safety, away from the ledge

Space .. to fly- when we have what we need

I am sure you can think of personal or collective analogies for the bumblebee.

What about young people, what about prisoners? What if an exhausted group of people needs energy, time, safety and someone who cares about them.. what if…

Isn’t it glorious when something so weak, and exhausted, finds its feet, and wings again?

That, my friend, could easily be you, or someone else..

To see what happened next do have a watch of this here

I wonder.

I wonder what life is all about, and how life might be different to see ourselves as those who help others fly?

What do you think?

Aug 10, 2021

‘Why cant I just have fun?’

It sometimes feels an effort to have fun – dont you think? well it does for me

Nothing is stopping me, I can do what I want, So what cant I?

But then I started to realise why… its those voices in my head, the critical ones, the sensible ones…these ones…

‘Are you boys having fun?’

Came the voice of the abuser to me, on a number of times, its often at a time when I have actually been having fun.

Its tone was accusatory. It was as if ‘fun’ was not allowed.

Fun was ‘found out’ – look you couldn’t hide it from me, you were having fun

Secret fun.

You doing have fun without me, you don’t have fun in this house,

Isnt there something more useful you should be doing… like meeting my needs instead?

Fun guilt.

‘Just dont make a mess’

Fun now has to be clean, organised, tidy.

‘I didnt say dont have fun, just keep the noise down’

I gave up fun, fun was no fun..

Another factor in the fun thing for me is the church thing.

Growing up evangelical – meant having conditional fun, and being judgemental on other peoples fun

‘Look at us having fun without alcohol’ – at a barn dance that is excruciatingly painful in 1991 with other ‘young people’ who are finding it excruciatingly painful watching their parents dance and look as though they are pretending to be having fun and its just so awful. Then to be forced to dance. URGH.

It wasnt just sex, drugs and rock and roll that were banned – it was anything that was the gateway to any of these things, school discos, pop music, smoking (anything) ..- we dont do what they do…

Fun for me as a teenager was doing ‘christian fun’ – what was allowed – the christian music festival – and yet even there I struggled to have fun, because I was so un easy about having fun, with the exception of sports, just dont get me to dance, or draw

Problem is in a context of what is and what isnt allowed….nothing seems much fun

If Fun is about doing something for the sake of it, doing something that might be boundless, free, creative and spontaneous.. then I realise that part of rediscovering myself, and my inner child is about ‘having fun’ again

I can definitely see how having conditions on fun – meant that something wasnt fun

I can see now also that as part of the trauma of growing up with a psychopathic parent, that fun wasnt part of the deal, because more than not fun was about being responsible, staying alert. The only fun was to do the thing they wanted to do.

Theres only allowed fun in abusive narcissist prison.

Guilty for having fun? Shame for having the wrong kind of fun? Too responsible to have fun?

Too inhibited to get drunk, always needing to be aware, responsible and look after others..- yes

So when did I start to notice this, and realise it?

I notice all the time, id rather be serious, think about serious things, learn, write (like this), digest the news (see previous post), and even some hobbies can feel like a performance, competitive…

I really noticed about fun when I asked my inner child what he wanted to do that was fun – and then actually do it

It was my inner child that wrote what it above.

I noticed too when it felt a momentous action to pick up a felt tip pen and make a messy splurge on a piece of paper.

Dont make a mess, stick to the lines, you cant draw, dont be silly, that’s silly…voices in my head, every time

Be a grown up, dont be childish, whats the point, haven’t you something more responsible, or helpful to do – like write a blog or check twitter or tidy, or…

I realise that its a struggle to ‘have fun’ – when the voices in my head, the critical parent – from the sources of those critical voices, abusive people and excessively moral churches – have been so dominant, and Ive been conditioned to comply, to fit, and found belonging or a trauma bond in compliance.

Overthinking fun makes it a struggle to have fun at all.

Just need to do it.

So one of those things is that fun is guided.

What do I do now for fun? new things that ive never been interested in before… and also new things I didnt know I could do before, as well as some of the old things like trains, cycling and growing food, but also photography,

Walks, and after those occasions a few months ago, now experimenting with drawing, art and self discovery in drawing, colours, and art – something I left behind as a child. Learning to be creative will be another piece, but at this stage, just to say that ive discovered something fun in stuff that I thought I couldn’t do or hated as a child. Its like an unlocking.

PICK UP THE PENS JAMES. JUST DO IT..so..

Heres something I drew yesterday, just for fun….and with both hands simultaneously…

Safety is so important in the pursuit of creativity – unless you dont give a fuck about what it is you’re creating and potentially upsetting in the process

So often emotional abuse resolves around the shameful control of behaviour and that includes ‘what is allowed as fun’

Often those who cannot have fun project rules onto those so it prevents them from doing so.

I do find it a struggle to have fun.

Maybe thats an ‘adult thing’ – but I’m more sure its a recovery from narcissistic abuse thing too. Life was about survival – and fun doesnt play a part – (maybe except outside the prison walls)

A few thoughts on Fun:

I can relate. When you’ve been fighting for justice or for survival all your life, it doesn’t take much to be content. A safe place to live, some peace and quiet, can be enough for a while. Your idea of fun might just change a bit. (Ryan on Twitter @Ryan_Daigler)

I think I feel guilty for enjoying myself? And also sometimes in the past bad things have happened to others whilst I’ve been out enjoying myself so there’s that.(Lydia @Lydimoo)

and someone trying to..

I promised myself I would do fun things while I’ve got all my evenings to myself during the school holidays. It’s not yet working out as planned, Ive killed alot of time playing games though (Helen @Helenmt)

Aug 9, 2021

Recovery of my forgotten Inner Child

Over the past 8 months, through Trauma Therapy, I’ve been getting in touch with my inner child.

The remarkable thing was, I didnt even know I had one.

A child.

A child part of me

What I began to realise was…I had spent my whole life parenting other peoples inner child..

But not my own

So what did I say?

How did a relationship start with a person, that I had never met?

A person that, told me that I had left him behind

A person that disappeared when I felt I had to grow up

A part of me that hid

That was scared at time to come out

A part of me that was terrified of the anger, the abuse and shock of those who had tormented me

A part of me that needed to know it was safe to appear

I had to youth work myself.

Safe

Slow

Easy conversation

Allowing my inner child to speak

To say the words that hadn’t been said in 40 odd years

Letting it out

Hello, little James

Would you like to say anything?

What would you like to do to today?

What even is your name?

baby steps as my vulnerable child begins a dialogue

I am just beginning to listen, and keep listening

Sometimes he swears at me. Sometimes he’s angry with me

Sometimes hes quiet

I am finding out what he likes, what he wants and what he needs.

More that often I listen, try to hear, what my inner child is trying to say.

Finding out who he feels safe with

I am just discovering my inner child

Re-covering my inner child

Letting him out to play

And in case you hadn’t noticed, be creative

in his own time.

Sometimes he writes, scribbles, draws, colours, just to get feelings out

Sometimes I can hear him tell me off ive been too busy or distracted to talk, to listen

Yes. He knows, as..deep down I also do too.

What has it been like?

Painful, raw and exhausting at times, but all of what my inner child has been holding onto for 30 odd years is having to come out, when its time, safe, and when he can trust me, to be protective, nurturing and safe.

The things that were absent from my own childhood.

And ive encountered the parts of me that I had inhabited, the critical parent, my wounded self, the voices in my head that say ‘stop being silly’ and try and let that inner child rest, play and pick up the crayon and make a silly mess. Because its not silly.

And Critical me has had a lifelong field day. Ask anyone who’s been on the wrong end of my questions.

As Lucia Cappachione writes, the fascinating thing is that the more we encounter , nurture, protect and parent our inner child.. the less we jump to rescue others, and also the less we need others to rescue us. Im not going to share too much from my inner child here, for, that is something for later, and maybe in a new relationship I will protect him and keep him safe, away from needing to be shared.

But in re-parenting myself, ive discovering myself, and feel like a coherent person in a way that I have never done before. Im feeling my way into a real, whole person that until this year had felt disjointed, disconnected and I had lived out of a false self.

If anyone reading this would like to start this journey, and it is recommended with a Therapist who specialises in this, the resources I am using on this, to do the work, not just learn about the work, are from Lucia Cappachione, most notably, Recovery of your inner child, 1991