I had a moment last week, sitting on a park bench, freezing and empty, when suddenly there was a connection to the past.
I almost toppled off the bench at the onslaught of pain while a child’s voice inside me started repeating, “It hurts so much and I don’t want to apologize for it.”
So. I think I finally met my inner child and it’s fair to say that she’s not doing well.
Actually, “in unbearable pain” is probably the right wording here and I can tell you that even the five minute window into her feelings that I got was enough to drain me for two days. In other words: the experience sucked.
But at least I know now. That while the anxiety feels like something external, something that I inherited instead of something that formed in me, the pain and the sadness are all mine.