I’ve identified the intense physical pain.
I feel it coming from my elbows, an electrical charge shooting down my forearms to the tips of my fingers.
My inner child screams, “Get it out! Get it out!” And yet, his screams are muffled under my adult curiosity.
I want to investigate. Understand what it is. Figure out what it means.
In the past, I’ve let him take control.
I will admit, running from these uncomfortable sensations to get them to stop is so much easier. I mean why would anyone subject themselves to physical pain?
I lie in bed trying to comfort my terrified little child. “We know what we need to do to help release this. Let’s try and figure out how to explain what is going on within us first.”
“Who cares! It hurts. Stop it! Stop it! STOP IT!” Then under his breath, “it’s her fault.”
How do I say this gently without getting Little Phoenix so upset he takes over? He always blames her.
“The actions are the trigger. It’s nobody’s fault. We need to figure out what’s going on in our body so we can better manage this trigger.”
“I don’t know. And I don’t care. I just want it to stop!” Little Phoenix is pleading with me, begging me to do anything to stop this ache.
“We will,” I comfort. “Until we know more. Let’s be a scientist and experiment.”
“NOOOO!!” my little boy is getting ready to throw a tantrum.
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