My inner child and me

My inner child and me (IV)

Since I have reconnected with my inner child, I try to connect with them once or twice a day, usually at night already in bed, and in the morning still in bed, before getting up. I see it as an exercise to get to know each other better, to deepen trust, and to heal my inner child. It is a kind of visualisation of my inner child, although perhaps not as structured as for example this visualisation (in Spanish).

My inner child and me (III) – getting closer

I’ve been lied to and abused. Time to try to heal
Cut me loose, cut me loose
Let me get hurt. Let me feel.
Cut my bound hands free and point me toward the real

(...)

Now ever since I was a little child I have felt this same old fear
That I alone will freeze while the world proceeds, I’ll be forever stuck right here
But I can’t live the old way, that way nearly left me dead

My inner child and me (II)

Yesterday I wrote about my process with my inner child, and this process continues. Unfortunately, it is a very painful process, with a lot of fear and a lot of pain, and I can't do it without crying. Yesterday, before going to bed, I had to stop the meditation, as very painful images of my inner child came to me - new images, related to the topic of sexual abuse - which I prefer not to mention here yet, as it is not at all clear to me what relation to reality these images have.

My inner child and me

Writing about my inner child, whom I only found a little more than a week ago, is not easy. Just looking at my inner child, sitting on the floor in a corner, knees as close to the body as possible, arms covering their heads and covering their ears and eyes, makes me ache, my stomach tightens, I feel all the fear and pain of my little inner child, and I often have to cry, as I do now.

Where is there room for so much pain and so much fear in such a little child? Where do this pain and fear come from?

Found - the child that was I

At last! At last, I think, I have found the child that was me, hiding and protecting themselves. I see them sitting on the ground in a corner, their knees as close to their body as possible, arms covering their head and covering their ears and eyes. But I see them.

5½ years ago I wrote this, at first just for myself, but then I posted it on my blog:

Looking for: the child that was I

I am looking for a child that has disappeared, and neither an advert in the “looking for” section of a newspaper nor reporting the child as missing with the police will be able to help me.

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