Running

I wish I ran track as hard as I run from myself. At first I never really know I’m running from me until ironically I began to feel those clear oxygen deficient symptoms. I’m laughing because I never really realized that i was experiencing similar mental “out of breathness” till now. I start feeling like im suffocating, so I run harder. And almost as if  have deprived my brain for oxygen too long, I began to experience a mental lightheadness characterized by pure delirium. My thoughts start racing a mile a minute, probably hoping that the harder it pumps them out the greater the chance coherence and sanity will return. Then just like that everything fades to black and numbness slips over me comfortingly.

 I ran so hard but in the end I wasn’t fast enough. I collapse on my bed and she catches me and accosts me. “Why are you running from me?!” I try with all my might to roll over but my body just lays there for my brain is too depleted, too deprived of oxygen to direct my body to flee, even if just to face the west wall. “I hate you, I hate you, LOOK AT MEE!!” I stare. I think about those good ole sleeping pills and the prospect of just slipping away for a few. She cries. I stare. She’s tired. I stare. She throws her hands up and turns from me, broken. 

I sit up. I can feel myself breathe again. I see her, dressed in rags, hallow eyes, emaciated, cold. I begin to feel for her. Tears fall. 

I now have a choice. Care for her, bathe her, clothe her, feed her. Stroke her face tenderly, lovingly. Love her. Or Run. 

I choose the worst. I stand over her and cry. She looks up at me and cries too. She knows I care, but she cries because she knows that regardless I am going to abandon her. I turn. She cries out barely above a whisper, “wait.” And I run. 

Ashamed of my Inner Child

In therapy we are working on getting to know the child inside of me. 

This is a good sign because for the past 7 months with this therapist alone, we have solely been talking about my attachment figure.

After my attachment figure gave me the apology i’ve been hoping for, about her role in facilitating an attachment she wasn’t ready for, there has been a sense of closure that i’m grateful for. The closure however was for my adult self. It has helped me understand, and push forward even when I don’t feel like it. It helps me discipline myself when I feel urges to reach out to her or obsess over her because I not only know better now, but I also understand better.

Lately though as evident by my last post, the child part of me has been making things hard. Every morning, her sadness and confusion weighs me down, and what started out as only mornings is progressing throughout the day, and now even into the night. 

She only knows how to want one person to care for her and love her unconditionally. She is dependent on people to help her figure out what to do or what to live for. And as I, the adult, say no to her seeking that from our past attachment figure, she no longer rebels, but is just very sad. 

I am suppose to be the one caring for her and making her feel safe. This morning I tried to comfort her but I realize I couldn’t be sincere.

I am ashamed of her and I really resent her. I hate that she is so needy, I hate that she is so helpless. I feel like I don’t care what age she is, she needs to pull herself up and be strong, independent and powerful. When I comfort her, I feel all of this emotion inside that sums up in disgust. 

This shows me that I don’t think she’s worth loving unless someone else feels that she is worth loving. She doesn’t have any support in me. She is actually alone and unloved by the one person that matters, me. She deserves to feel depressed because of that, too bad her depression lives inside of me.