Little me

It’s been a while since my last post but today I need to write and get the thoughts out.

This morning I feel like I made new connections in my mind. Emotions that I was feeling in the present, strongly stemmed from memories of my past.

I had an emotional outburst this morning as we were woken up early again by the dog needing a poo and regularly getting up out of her bed in a panic. I took her out to empty her but it didn’t stop her from shooting up out of bed again afterwards, so Mark got up and placed the beanbag in front of the cage so she couldn't dart out. I could tell he was in a bad mood and tired because of the dog and my gut reaction was to feel scared (the feeling didn’t fit, as he’s never given me any reason to feel that way). I snapped at him for using MY beanbag to block her in and I asked where the cage door was. Mark pointed to the mess in the corner and that he couldn’t get to it because of the clutter I created yesterday. The conversation was left there for a few hours as it was early and we were still in bed.

When I got up later I told him that I was going to the loo and did he need it, he replied no in an annoyed tone. I asked what was wrong and he said ‘you know what’. I did know what but said that I didn’t. I was already defensive and protecting myself.

Talking continued with my emotions escalating. Mark walked me through it, and I could feel how unfitting my reaction was. He briefly explained that he hasn’t given me a reason to think he would yell at me or blame me when he’s in a bad mood. I couldn’t deny it at all, he hasn’t. The few times that he has, he’s apologised immediately.

My mind at that moment calmed down and went back in time and I saw myself as a 7-year-old, in the living room of my old house with my mum and dad. We had just had tea and were watching TV. The feelings from that image in my mind were fear, awkwardness, apprehension and confusion. My dad was sat in his corner of the couch, arms folded, brow furrowed and he was in a bad mood. If my mum spoke to him, he snapped at her aggressively and bared his teeth in her direction. I didn’t dare speak to him. If I had to for whatever reason, I would do so very quietly and slowly, as if I was trying to calm a lion.

From that memory, I was taken to another. An image of 2 or 3-year-old me standing against a wall, arms outstretched on either side of my body, hands gripping the plasterboard behind me. I was staring at my dad, paralysed as I did so. He’d just shouted angrily and my whole family went silent and then started laughing. He would yell as a form of humour but I didn’t understand it was supposed to be fun. It scared me and I didn’t understand why he was angry. I remember asking why he was angry and everyone saying that he was ‘just having fun'. I remember still feeling confused and unsure.

My dad was quick to show anger and could be outwardly aggressive though never violent. His humour was dry so I didn’t understand it a lot of the time as a child. He would sulk and make the atmosphere uncomfortable for everyone around him. I was scared of my dad. From being around him, I developed coping behaviours in order to get by. Being meek and mild and tiptoeing around so as not to add to the anger or provoke a reaction or blame.

I now hate if someone is angry at me and I always wonder if I’ve done something to cause it. Dad never talked about why he was angry, so I learned that acting a certain way would make it better or at least manageable. Dad never took his anger out on me, he would usually ignore me until he felt better. However, sometimes he did seem to like when I acted meek and sheepish, and he would respond with a smile or acknowledge me with my nickname, ‘hi puppy’. I thought that was the way to make the situation better. I still act that way with Mark and other people if they appear angry.

Picturing those times in the present moment, I cried. The feeling of helplessness and sadness filled me up and I cried hard for myself. A child shouldn’t have to feel frightened of their parent and definitely shouldn’t be made to walk on eggshells. I was a toddler without the skills to understand that someone yelling angrily, could have a different meaning. None of my family realise that it was damaging, they laughed it off because they found Dad funny. It wasn’t funny for the small girl, who was pressing herself into the wall hard enough to physically hurt because she wanted to get away from her dad’s yelling.

Comforting little me

I imagined grabbing that little girl and held her like she wished she’d been held by someone in that room. I stroked her hair and told her she didn’t need to feel scared. That the adults were not being very good parents right then and weren’t understanding what it was like for her. That it wasn’t her fault and she deserved to be hugged. That her daddy wasn’t perfect and this was one of his mistakes and it was wrong for him to act like that and it has nothing to do with her behaviour or the way she was.

I then went to the older me, sat in the living room with her parents, and I froze time, except for her. I pointed out her dad’s behaviour was wrong and not her fault. That she was a child and deserved her daddy to be protective and caring of her always. That nothing she could say or do does actually make him better, that his behaviour is on him and him alone. That she should feel confident, loved, cared for, and supported without her having to act in any way to ‘deserve’ it. Her parents are not perfect and the fact that her mum didn’t speak up for her when she could is just as bad as her dad making her feel as he did.

I am a scared and weak person who needs validation often. It makes sense after going back and looking at situations as to why I’ve learned to be this way. From being very young and having situations that were so contradictory - he sounds angry but people are laughing? Nobody explained it to me or comforted me when I was scared by it. I now question every situation, as I struggle with context. I have always been quiet and vulnerable and I approach conflict with either defensiveness and anger or I resign myself and accept it and take it to heart. There’s no balanced view of conflict in my mind. It's an area I want to get better at.