The Child in the Mirror

I knew that I really hated some child parts, but I didn’t realize quite how much I hated the ten-year-old until Sunday.  If I had compassion for her, the whole experience would have broken my heart.  Instead, it left me feeling haunted and incredibly anxious.

Allow me to set the stage:  We had a terrible night with the little one on Saturday night.  Baby screamed for hours.  My eyes were killing me on Sunday morning because I have a bad habit of never taking my contacts out. So I finally caved and put my glasses on.  Baby and I were sick with some sinus junk, so we were both pretty puny.  Morning sickness with baby number two was terrible on Sunday, and it was incredibly difficult to imagine standing at the bathroom counter to wash my face, let alone do the whole girly make-up, hair thing.  I also hadn’t plucked or waxed my eyebrows in a long time, well, because I have an infant, and for some reason, early pregnancy seems to preclude eyebrow care.

In spite of the adversity, there I stood, at the bathroom counter.  I glanced in the mirror, and to my horror, my ten-year-old self stared back at me.  That girl, with the glasses, the bushy eyebrows, the tired eyes, and the crazy frizzy hair.  I felt like I was in a horror movie.  I was torn.  I wanted to scream and run out of the bathroom away from that horrible girl, but I knew that she was me and would follow me, so I had to stay and fix it.  I had to stay in front of the mirror and kill her.  I frantically straightened my hair.  The ten-year-old has no idea what straight hair is like. She doesn’t own a flat iron.  I had to use the mirror, but my stomach lurched every time that I looked into it. Morning sickness and flashbacks DO NOT go well together. The flat iron process took too long, and once my hair was unequivocally straightened,  the ten-year-old was still there staring at me.  Still shaking,  I took out the makeup.  The child was still three years away from make-up.  So I tried to paint over her face, desperately wiping her out.  I finally was able to see a semblance of adult me in the mirror, so I quickly fled the bathroom, to get as far away from that mirror as possible.  For the rest of the day, I was haunted by that ten-year-old.

Cognitively I know that she’s just a traumatized little kid.  Emotionally, I feel repulsed by her. I feel so disgusted with her and shaming of her.  The thing about my ten-year-old is that she is the manifestation of all of the socially “unacceptable” symptoms of the trauma.  She is severely OCD, dissociative, anxious, depressed.  She predated the anorexia, which became the phenomenon that consumed all of the other symptoms.  With the anorexia,  I felt that I had successfully killed the child parts.  Now that I am no longer symptomatic with the anorexia, those children are rearing their heads again.  And they have stories that I don’t want to hear.

So maybe next time, instead of painting the children away, or flat ironing them out of existence,  I can have a conversation with them.  They have a right to be heard.  So next time the ten-year-old greets me in the mirror with her sad, exhausted, anxious eyes, I will try to honor her.

Categories Child Parts, HealingTags , , ,

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Message In Stanza

Poetry and Musings

Mustard Seed Blog

“With this news strengthen those who have tired hands, encourage those with weak knees,say to those with fearful hearts “be strong & do not fear” Isaiah 35:3

Tarbelite Confessions

Weaving a story to protect myself

The lovely dandelion

spreading a little joy into the world one seed at a time

insicknessandinfaith

He is faithful through the storm

cholley's musings

my thoughts and prayers about my journey with my Savior, Jesus

Pure Glory

The heavens are telling the glory of God; and the firmament proclaims His handiwork. Psalms 19:1

The Mind Connectory

Empowering A Better You

saralaurenlewis.wordpress.com/

Cultivating Community and Celebrating Creativity

health & Lifestyle Blog | Abigail Louise

HEALTH, LIFESTLYE & CHRONIC ILLNESS BLOG BY Abigail Louise

This Grateful Mama

Encouraging women with the truth of Gods uncommon grace

Molly in Progress

sermons to myself

My Beautiful One

"The LORD of Hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge." ~Psalm 46:7

this grateful mama

practicing gratitude and finding joy

mamiepackorg.wordpress.com/

marriage | motherhood | military life

Dirty Sci-Fi Buddha

Musings and books from a grunty overthinker

Lessons from Home

faith, homeschool, and healing from loss

Kingdom Habitation

Lord, I have loved the habitation of Your house, And the place where Your glory dwells. Psalm 26:8

%d bloggers like this:
search previous next tag category expand menu location phone mail time cart zoom edit close