I was going to title this post “back in the saddle” but I’m pretty sure I’ve done that at least 100 times before and it seems a bit expected at this point.
Another thing I’ve done a gazillion times before is come here to talk about not wanting to write and procrastination and what time it is right now and how long it’s taking me to write this and all the things I did before coming here to do this… so I’ll skip that part too. Let’s just get straight to the meat of it, shall we?
I woke up at 6:01 this morning, just 14 minutes before my alarm was set to go off. After the initial “AWWW-DAMMIT!” and while trying to relax back into sleep for the now remaining 13 minutes I was overwhelmed with panic. And under the panic was sadness, fear, loneliness… that, and it was fucking freezing (wtf, Los Angeles… when are you ever this cold?)
yeeouch. Good morning, me… wow.
Thing is, it was a pretty good morning to be me. The same me who felt sad, afraid, and lonely took her notebook with her to the toilet and wrote morning pages while she shat and got a lot out (of both ends… which is important because I was previously on a road trip if you catch my drift). And I discovered in the writing that my sadness, fear, and loneliness turned into panic when combined with a belief that something was wrong and that in order to not feel sad, afraid, or lonely anymore that I needed to fix (fix fiX fIX FIX FIX!) that something and then polish it to perfection or I would be destined to be sad, afraid, and lonely forever!
|hair by nature. proof of superhero transformation…|
Back to why it’s good to be me: I knew that belief wasn’t reality. Yay!
And I went about my day reminding myself about what was in front of me when I started to drift back into the tempting robotic voice chanting: Must. Fix. Must. Fix. Now. Make. Perfect. …and I discovered on a bathroom break that my hair had formed itself into the most delicious little curls on my forehead… and I started to wonder if maybe I was turning into a superhero…
Later at my desk I noticed this pain under my collar bones. This pain (pause for the woo-woo) is something that I learned to identify in therapy as the presence of an inner child (a 5 year old one, in fact) trying to get my attention because her needs aren’t being met. The nice thing about this is that it’s super easy for me to figure out what her needs are… she’s five, just like Spiderman… she’s simple. She doesn’t muck stuff up with doubt.
I had an experience this weekend where I was not clear about what I needed and in a conversation with Devon I blurted something out of pure emotion (which I’m allowed to do, by the way, I ain’t perfect…) that set off a series of events that was unpleasant for all involved. In fact, it was “shitty.” The kicker is that I figured out in less than 5 minutes what I really needed and how I could have gotten it… but again, I’m allowed not to be perfect (woot!)
My needs, and whether they’re being met or not… not always clear. Five year old inner child’s… super clear. Today she needed me to know she was scared. She needed comfort. She needed reassurance.
She got it–and I didn’t even need to leave my chair to give it to her.
Yes, everything is still okay…
Yes, you are still loving, lovable, and loved…
And that was all she needed.
That was all I needed.
Turns out, that’s all I really EVER need in one form or another… Because I am her and she is me.
And you know what’s great about that? I’ve got everything she’ll ever need… I’m her hero. Maybe even her super-hero…