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| poutanaki |
Saturday I lay on the bed with Daddy, he kissed and stroked and petted me. Being incredibly gentle and caring, tickling my back and stroking my hair. I ended up curled into foetal position, with his arms around me, head pressed into my chest. It's a position that makes me feel small physically somehow and also makes me feel safe.
It was at some point in that position that I started to feel little. Where I felt the adult me take a step back and the little me step forward. This is usually the point when I fight it, when I choose to remain big because I do not want to feel little, but I didn't this time. I felt safe and secure enough to relax into it and I lay there a little girl in his arms. Safe, silent and secure.
He went for a shower and ordered me not to move. I didn't, hardly an inch I think, except to put my thumb in my mouth. I lay sleepily curled in a ball waiting for him to return..
He returned and ordered me to sit up and dry him with a towel, which I did obediently. Before he lay back down and I curled back into him, thumb back into my mouth. Happy, relaxed and contented.
However, because he didn't realise I was little, he began to talk about work, chores and issues that I could not relate too. I covered my ears, curled further into him, I think tried to verbalise my confusion. He took that to be me being sulky and bratty and disobedient and raised his voice angrily. Which I immediately found distressing, “please don't shout at me Daddy”, I pleaded.
I tried to explain I wasn't sulking, that I couldn't talk about the things he was asking. Inside me, the big me was saying I'm little, I'm little, I'm little, but I couldn't verbalise it. Losing patience, he reached to hurt me, which resulted in much panic, sheer confusion, tears… and me repeating over and over, “please don't hurt me daddy” and “your supposed to look after me”. More attempts to hurt me, led to more panic and crying.
At some point he realised I was little, stopped trying to hurt me and let me curl back into him, talked to me gently, comforted me again. I began to relax, become calm… but then he tried to make me do bad things, that I knew were wrong, that I didn't want to do, and the tears and refusals began again.
Inside me, adult me was trying to push back in, was thinking “think big, think big, think big” but I couldn't. I wanted to feel in control and feel safe, but instead I was scared and felt trapped. I was in genuine distress about the situation I was in and began to beg, over and over, without any pause between each repeated phrase “please let me get up daddy, please let me get up daddy”.
When he agreed I was so relieved, so happy that he was going to let me get up and stop trying to do bad things. That the confusion and distress where over. Then he changed his mind and my panic was so great I immediately began to sob and hyperventilate.
I think that's when I began to feel the big me slowly sliding back into control, though he continued his insistence that I do bad things and my little continued her insistence that she didn't want to… that daddy was supposed to look after me… a calmness had begun to descend, I had begun to think big. A small interruption quickened the transition, but I still needed a moment or two to lie in silence, while I got my head fully big again.
He asked me later to reflect and we discussed how I felt during and after. I also wanted to put some of it down in writing, hence this weblog and the one before… I know many will not understand it or believe it, but that is of no importance. I am not writing this for validation, I just wanted to document how it felt for me.
After I felt icky, because in the middle of the distress it had felt unpleasant, scary, confusing and distressing… and I had wanted to be big, but I couldn't push the little to one side (and that is an odd odd feeling)
Its also worrying that my little didn't actually trust him. Didn't understand why he would want to hurt her. May well me scared if/ when she encounters him again, eek!
Edited Tue 16 Jun 09, 11:37 PM by poutanaki
| 17 Jun 09, 5:51 AM Mabesque UK(LS), 3 yrs |
I've been there. I had to learn how to force communication through all that eventually, because it is so easy otherwise to get hurt (and I would get completely non verbal) but I had a lot of help learning. Maybe a code word or use of another name to indicate littleness might help? You can't change the direction of the wind, but you can adjust your sails. |
