On a bad day, when I am triggered by something, it feels like I get sucked into the past. I become a small child, again. I bypass thought and get sucked into that dark room of abandonment and ‘aloneness’. There, I can hear my infant-self wailing.
In one of these flashbacks, I can see her sitting on the cold floor crying, but her pain and wailing overwhelm me. I feel it everywhere, and it cripples me. I double over and I am on the ground with her. I can’t stand the pain. I resist and deny her. I wail back, “Go away! Go away! Go away!” because her pain feels like it’ll take me out. It’ll never stop.
Would I ever say this to an actual child who’s in distress? Of course not. Never! But that’s what I do to myself. Poor little thing. I realize that this is what it must have felt like, being little, and in my childhood home.
On a good day, I get triggered and I know I’ve been triggered. I take steps to ground myself in the present. I tie my tether to my Higher Power’s love and ask for help. Then, when I go into the past, and I see her crying, I can give her what she needs. I get angry to see her all alone, with nobody helping her. I feel compassionate towards her.
I take her little face in my hands and say, “It hurts. You’re so upset. I know. I know. It’s hard.” I kiss her tiny little face and take deep and cleansing breaths with her. I can say, “Come here. Come here.” to her, as I take her in my arms and stroke her hair. “I’m here. I’m here. I’ll never leave you. You have me, always. I love you. It’ll be okay.” And I can cuddle her and coo to her until she’s calm. I can then walk her to the present day with me where I know I’m safe and loved and taken care of…by me.
