Inner child therapy is fucking hard. It hurts a lot. It makes me see the pain much deeper than I thought was possible.
I just realized today that my 15 year old self is a narcissistic, brat, who got traumatized so much she doesn’t know the difference between pleasure and pain. She has been in control more than the present me. I am 32 fucking years old and I have fallen down a lot to now allowing myself to lean on a bad time in my life when the hormonal and bitchy 15 year old was driving through like a freight train.
Not anymore. I’m kicking her ass and showing her who is in control now and how I will not give up control anymore. Time to sit down, the mama is coming out, the fighter is about to take you down to where you belong little girl. You’ve shown me yours and my own pain today, I’m grateful for that, but I will be damned if I keep letting you steal my joy.
Want to see the strength I have from being locked inside for so long? I am about to unleash the soldier.
Time for some boxing. Time to break open and fight, let my body, my fist, my legs fight it till the physical pain makes me stop hiding from her and eventually I will face her without disassociating.
In my mind she is 30 feet tall stepping on the joy, the love and the ability to heal myself.