Wednesday 19 October 2016

Day 20 - Crying in a corner

I remember those moments of crying a a kid. It was a very extreme fear, confusion, terror, anguish, anger, lots of things. I would always go into the corner of a room and wail as loud as my voice would allow me, there was no choice back then, I did not know what was going on, or what to do about it.

Strangely these memories of being shouted at/tormented by parents is not something that was at the forefront of my memories, but they were always there in the background - I just forgot them along the way until looking into the nature of my confrontations with people, and how I had always teared up when angrily confronting/being confronted by someone.

I remember my early life being full of ecstatic things, there was great ups, I used to like going out to places. However it seems that this time in my life was always punctuated by ‘the next time I would get shouted at by my parents’. I don’t know exactly when the fear came about (it felt like it was always there), but I get the impression that back then I was always waiting for the next big standoff, always expecting it in a way; ‘it’s been a long while since mum and/or dad shouted at me for something, it will be time for the next round soon’.

So, the moment would come when I was out of line, or did something wrong by accident, or broke somebody’s something and the shouting started, and I went to go cry into the corner. I hated my parents for this, especially my mum, I wished death upon her and my parents generally while growing up.

The corner of the room was always the last resort, it was the only place I would go too if things ever got ‘really bad’. And looking back now I can see just how many times I took myself into this corner and stood there crying until I stopped.


I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to participate in fear of being shouted at by my parents for doing something ‘wrong’,

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to connect ‘doing something wrong’ to fear, and so I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to fear my own fear.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to participate in the implicit belief that it is justified to be shouted at when I have done something ‘wrong’.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to participate in a seeking of refuge from the torrent of emotions that I am feeling in the moment of being shouted at - by moving myself into the corner of a room and facing it.

I forgive myself that I have not accepted and allowed myself to see, realise, and understand that I did not know of nor have the vocabulary to describe what it was that I was feeling back then, as terror, confusion, anguish, and anger, not knowing that these words were what I was experiencing back then and not being able to use my own words effectively to explain my position so that as child and parent we could understand each other, instead of allowing myself to go on existing in a constant state of fear of the next moment when something ‘went wrong’ in my reality.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to participate in the belief that it is normal to be shouted at as a child, that it is normal to experience this kind of ‘trauma’ where it seems like ‘the world is ending’.

I forgive myself that I have not accepted and allowed myself to see, realise, and understand that I had in fact suppressed these moments within myself to the point where I could not remember or recall them as something that had actually happened to me, not seeing, realising, nor understanding how these moments shaped me as who I am today - as in the moments of when I am faced with confrontation, and I will feel myself become teary eyed, not ever really knowing why this was happening, not ever thinking that my early years could have influenced who I am within confrontation.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to become tearful when faced with a confrontation.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to participate in the belief that life is about living for the ecstatic things, for the things that make me feel ‘up’.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to define life as excitement.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to participate in a fear of ‘the next time I will be shouted at’, not seeing, realising, or understanding how I have created the pattern of being either in an up or down phase, where I define up as being excited and happy, and down as being shouted at/in trouble.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to connect ‘the next time I will be shouted at’ to fear, thus I forgive myself for accepting and allowing myself to fear my own fear.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to participate in a waiting game, where I am waiting and dreading the next moment that I will be in trouble like being shouted at by my parents for doing something wrong.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to move myself into a corner because I believed that by doing this I would be able to get away from being told off, that I would be safe in my corner.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to participate in the belief that I am safe in corners, not seeing, realising, or understanding how this belief applies to the rest of my life in the moments when ‘things get hard’ and I decide to move myself into a corner of my mind, either to take drugs or distractions to ‘get away from it all’.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to fantasise about my parents dying so that I would not have to experience being told off ever again.

When and as I see myself in confrontation and becoming flustered and teary eyed I stop and I breathe. And I will myself to remember the fact that I am now able to communicate myself fully and in detail, that I am able to see the situation before me and decide what it is I should say without becoming agitated or afraid that I will be shouted at ‘for no reason’ - even though this may happen I will myself to understand that this is the other person’s issue that they must face themselves. I will not always be dealing with amiable people. And so all I can do on my end is to be clear in what I am communicating and why. Step by step.

I will myself to see, realise, and understand that taking things slowly and in the step of the people around oneself is very beneficial to getting one’s point across and creating a space for communication to happen.

When and as I see myself going into a corner within my mind, entertaining the idea of ‘trying to get away from it all’ I stop and I breathe - and I will myself to see, realise, and understand that I am running into a corner as I did when I was a child, and that I am trying to get away from a point that I do not want to understand nor face. Thus I will myself to simply stop, look, and see what it is - in writing - that I am trying to get away from, and through understanding the point I allow myself to transcend the point that was burdening me.