A session with my child self

Went out for dinner with Z this evening. Starting when we arranged this dinner at 5:00, and continuing through dinner and a walk until we got home at 7:00, I felt pent up. I was pretty sure that a session with my child self would make me feel better. So I sat on the brown couch, put an afghan over my lap, put a brown couch cushion over that, leaned over the cushion, and allowed my child self to speak.

Speaking with my child self is a skill I've been developing slowly over the last two or three years. I'm pleased with the proficiency I've developed. Now, often, when I'm agitated in some way, I can easily see it as my child self being in distress. As I've written in many posts since the start of this blog, my emotions present themselves largely as strong sensations in the right side of my body, and more and more I've been viewing these sensations as the physical manifestation of my child self.

So now when I'm agitated I can ask my child self, "What's up?" And she will almost always have something to say. I'm not embarrassed anymore to do this.

I want to make clear: when she speaks, it's not like a hallucination. I don't hear a voice as though from outside myself. It's more like this: I tune into the urges and emotions in the body and make an effort to give voice to them. What comes out (silently) is not unlike what comes out when I am lashing out in frustration at a loved one. Basically, I'm splitting myself into two personas, child and adult, and giving the child my emotions while the adult calmly witnesses and comforts. When I first read (in books) and heard (from my therapist, T) about this practice, it seemed distasteful and hard to do. But now I find it enjoyable and very useful.

Here is the interaction I had with my child self while I sat with her for about an hour today:

Child: I am so agitated I don't know where to begin and I can barely speak. There is not enough time. I'm not doing the right thing. There isn't enough time! I don't know what to do! Not enough time, don't know what to do (repeated for several minutes). ... I'm very angry and frustrated. I want to be alone with you. Why did you invite Z to come sit with us? (I had indeed invited Z to sit next to me on the brown couch.) Now I have to be on guard. I am not going to be able to relax!

(As it happened, Z did come to sit with me, and she reached out and hugged me and squeezed me rather vigorously.)

Child: (Feeling even more agitated) I told you! I told you she would attack us! Why didn't you protect me? Why did you let her sit with us? I'm never safe! I wish we could be alone together.

Adult: Do you want to go up into the attic?

Child: No, I don't want to be up there, I want to be here where there is life. Up there it is so alone and almost suffocating. If we go up there I will become quiet and probably fall asleep.

Child: (Calming down after being heard for 5-10 minutes after Z left) I am so glad to be alone with you. There are so many things I want to tell you!

Adult: What would you like to say? I am eager to hear.

Child: So many things! But, I can't think right now of what they are. But I can't wait to think of them, because I really want to tell you. Some bad things happened to me, and I want to tell you all about it. I am so glad to be with you.

Child: (Later.) Actually I can't think of anything to say. But I can feel all these sensations. I just want to be here with you and feel them. I want to feel pleasure. The front window of the living room is so beautiful, the pattern of light and shadow on the mist-covered glass, so very beautiful. I feel such longing. So much longing. I don't know what I want. I don't know what I want. (Sensations of longing felt mostly in right jaw, sensations I've experienced for at least the past 3 years.)

At this point I felt the session with my child self had come to a close. She seemed content, OK with me moving on to outer-directed activities. I arose to write this blog post.